Chapter Fifteen #2
Dean kissed him again. “I could get used to this.” Then he headed for the stairs.
Robin let out a happy sigh. “So could I,” he murmured. Upstairs, Dean was singing to himself. Robin glanced at Loki. “Your daddy is gorgeous, do you know that?” And judging by the sounds that drifted down the stairs, he could hold a tune too.
Robin went into the kitchen and set about heating up Dean’s dinner.
Thank God for microwave ovens. While the covered dish revolved, Robin set a place at the kitchen table.
He glanced around the neat kitchen for napkins to give the setting a special touch, and when he spied a box of candles on top of a cabinet, he grinned.
By the time he heard the water shut off above his head, he was ready.
A deep red paper napkin was folded neatly beside the silverware.
The opened bottle of white wine in the refrigerator stood on the table, along with a wine glass.
The centerpiece was an empty blue glass bottle, with a candle stuck in its neck.
Perfect. Well, as perfect as Robin could make it.
“Oh my.” Dean stood in the doorway, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweater. “This looks amazing.”
Robin glanced down, and quickly jerked his head up. Did he have to go commando? There was no missing Dean’s long dick that tented the soft grey fabric.
“Does that look good too?” Dean’s eyes twinkled.
Aw, crap. Busted.
The microwave pinged, and Robin cleared his throat. “Sit. I’ll dish it up.” Anything to avoid staring at Dean’s crotch. And now he was positive Dean had gone commando on purpose.
Not that Robin was complaining—he just hated getting caught in the act of ogling.
Dean surveyed the table as he sat. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble,” he said quietly. He met Robin’s gaze. “And I love it.”
Okay, that look right there was worth the indigestion he’d suffered through wolfing down his dinner in a hurry to see Dean.
Dean gestured to an empty chair. “Sit and talk to me while I eat. Tell me what you’ve been doing since I saw you last.”
That was easy. Thinking about you.
The movie was okay, not that Robin was concentrating all that hard. He was too busy relishing the feel of Dean’s hand on his thigh, gently stroking it. It was an intimate gesture, but not one carried out with any real intent: Dean’s focus was on the screen.
Robin would have been happy to sit like that all evening. Lady lay curled up in the armchair, Loki beside her. He had to smile at that. Maybe the little furball is growing on her.
Dean hit Pause. “Is this grabbing you at all?”
Robin smiled. “I’m enjoying being here with you.” He meant every word.
Dean studied him for a moment. “I’ve thought about you a lot these last couple of days.”
“Good thoughts, I hope.” The intense scrutiny made the muscles in Robin’s abs quiver, and deep in his belly, something fluttered. Talk about butterflies…
Dean’s slow smile sent a pang through Robin’s chest. “Very good,” Dean said at last. Then Robin shivered as Dean leaned over to kiss him, his hand rubbing Robin’s pecs.
Robin cupped Dean’s nape, and tilted his head to give him better access.
Dean slid his hands over Robin’s upper body as they kissed, and Robin couldn’t stop touching him, his breathing quickening with each light caress.
“This okay?”
Robin sighed happily. “This is really okay.”
“Good.” Dean kissed his neck. “Because I have been thinking about doing this ever since you called.”
“Then how about less talking and more kissing?”
Dean chuckled against his neck, and it tickled.
“We need to talk about this bossy streak of yours.” Then all talk ceased as they kissed, and Robin’s heartbeat moved into a higher gear.
He didn’t hold back, giving as good as he got, until it wasn’t only him making appreciative noises. That was all kinds of gratifying.
“Fuck, you get more receptive each time we do this,” Dean murmured against his lips.
Robin stilled. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Dean laughed quietly. “A very, very good thing.” He slid a hand under Robin’s sweater, moving it higher, his fingertips trailing over Robin’s abs and making them twitch.
When he reached Robin’s nipple and tweaked it between thumb and forefinger, Robin groaned.
“Fuck yeah. Like that,” Dean whispered, his lips soft against Robin’s neck.
Robin couldn’t tell which was turning him on more—Dean’s kisses or his fingers. He only knew he didn’t want it to end.
He shifted lower, sliding his ass toward the edge of the seat cushion, and Dean caught hold of Robin’s thigh, gently spreading him, hooking his leg over Dean’s.
Oh fuck. Robin’s heart pounded at the thought of what was coming.
“Want me to stop?” Dean asked.
Robin gaped at him. “You’re kidding, right?” This was all good.
Dean laughed. “Just checking.” Then he took Robin’s mouth in a hungry kiss.
Except now, the kisses had real heat. Dean’s hands were in constant motion, stroking Robin’s neck, his chest, his belly. Robin pushed his head back into the soft seat cushion, his breath catching when Dean kissed his neck again. “Oh fuck… when you do that…”
Dean slid his hand leisurely down Robin’s body, until he reached Robin’s crotch.
He molded his fingers around Robin’s stiffening dick.
“I kiss you here,” he whispered, his lips soft against Robin’s neck, “and suddenly you are so fucking hard.” He rubbed Robin’s denim-covered shaft, then moved lower, his fingers brushing over the seam of his jeans, pressing it against his hole.
Dean broke the kiss and looked him in the eye.
“Can I take these off?” Robin grasped the hem of his sweater, but Dean stilled his hand. “No. Only your jeans.”
He swallowed. “Yes.” It was barely audible. Fuck, this was hot.
Dean unbuttoned and unzipped the jeans, tugging them roughly over Robin’s hips, down to his knees, his ankles, and then off, dropping them to the floor. Then he paused to smile at the sight of Robin’s underwear. “Where did you get those?”
“They were a present from Ryan for my birthday.” And maybe not the most appropriate thing to wear, but Robin had figured they’d raise a laugh. The crotch was adorned with the Harry Potter scar, and the words Want to See My Wand?
“I do, by the way.”
Robin gazed at him, stupefied. “Huh?”
Dean grinned. “Want to see your wand.” And with one brisk motion, he pulled the briefs down and off. He gazed at Robin’s rising dick with shining eyes. “We never did get around to dessert, did we?” Then he leaned over and swallowed Robin’s cock to the root.
Robin arched off the couch, grabbed hold of Dean’s hair and held on tight. “Fuck.” Dean licked up the underside of his shaft, flicking his tongue over the head again and again until Robin was squirming, unable to keep still. When Dean stopped, Robin let out a loud howl, and he laughed.
“Patience. I’m merely warming you up,” Dean said with a grin.
“For what?” Robin demanded.
“This.” Dean got to his feet and Robin gaped at him. Dean sat at the opposite end of the couch, shifting his body until he was almost lying down. He beckoned to Robin with his finger. “Lie here.” He patted the cushion beneath him. “There’s plenty of room.”
Robin blinked. “Are you going to stay… like that?”
Dean chuckled. “Tonight is all about you.” His eyes gleamed.
“Actually, it’s all about that gorgeous ass.
” He took Robin’s hand and pulled him down onto the couch, lying with his back against Dean’s chest, his legs stretched out over the seat cushions.
Dean’s arm supported Robin’s neck as he stroked Robin’s chest and belly, moving lower, lower, lower…
Robin shuddered as Dean’s fingertips grazed the head of his dick, then shivered as Dean caught hold of his leg and spread him again as he hooked Robin’s leg over his.
Robin turned his head to meet Dean’s kiss, loving the illicitness of being bare below the waist while Dean remained clothed. Dean stroked his belly, making the muscles in his stomach jump.
Dean stroked Robin’s lips with a single finger. “Suck it. I want it nice and wet.”
Robin opened for him, his heart hammering as he sucked. Dean removed his finger and Robin let out a low moan as Dean rested his hand on Robin’s taint, that now-slick finger brushing over Robin’s hole.
“Play with your cock,” Dean murmured. “While I play with your ass.” Then he kissed Robin as slow as you please while he sank his finger unhurriedly in Robin’s body.
Robin moaned into the kiss, unable to keep his hips still.
Dean kept up the steady in-and-out motion, occasionally crooking his finger inside Robin, pausing only to wet his fingers before returning to his erotic task.
Robin tugged on his cock, chasing the climax he knew was heading straight for him.
“You’re gonna make me come… if you keep this up…”
Dean smiled. “That’s the idea.” Another crook of his finger, and Robin groaned. “I’m not stopping until there isn’t a single drop of cum left in you.” He paused, withdrawing his finger. “Reach under the seat cushion.”
What the fuck? Robin did as instructed, stilling as his fingers encountered smooth plastic. He pulled the bottle free of the couch and stared at it. “Why is there lube hiding in your couch?”
“Think of it as a contingency plan,” Dean commented, holding out his hand. “Now give me some.”
Robin squeezed the viscous liquid onto Dean’s fingers, then dropped the bottle onto his jeans. He moaned as Dean penetrated him with a second finger.
“That’s it,” Dean said approvingly. “I love how tight you feel around my fingers.” He stroked them in and out of Robin’s body, and it wasn’t long before Robin was pushing down on them.
“Can you squeeze my fingers? Tighten your hole. Let me feel it.”
Robin concentrated, clenching, and the groan that fell from Dean’s lips was the perfect reward. He did it again, and again, and the hunger in Dean’s kiss was intoxicating.
“Fuck, that feels so good.” Dean sucked on his neck, and Robin shuddered. “You like it when I finger-fuck you?”
Robin’s only response was to roll his hips, wanting more.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Good, because school is in.
Tonight’s lesson?” Dean pulled back slightly to look him in the eye.
“Getting fucked doesn’t always have to involve a dick.
” And before Robin could get a word past his lips, Dean kissed him, more forcefully than before, and Robin quickened his hand on his cock, tingling with anticipation.
Dean pushed his fingers into Robin up to the knuckle, Robin tilting his hips to give him access.
“Dean,” he pleaded, his body trembling.
Dean nodded. “You’re so tight now. You’re close.” Then he took Robin’s mouth in a blistering kiss, and Robin worked his shaft, hips rocking as he tried to get Dean’s fingers deeper inside. Dean’s tongue plunged deep, and Robin moaned, on fire as Dean pushed him to the edge.
And then he fell, shooting so hard that he felt dizzy with it all, tremors coursing through him, leaving him weak in Dean’s arms. He had no clue where his load had landed, but it didn’t matter. His entire focus was on Dean’s fingers wedged in his ass and Dean’s mouth locked onto his.
Then Dean broke free, reaching into his sweats to fish out his cock.
“Fuck, watching you, listening to you…” He gave three good tugs on his dick before a violent shudder rippled through him as he came on Robin’s thigh.
Dean gasped out in short, staccato breaths, squeezing his shaft until at last he was done.
I did that. Robin’s chest swelled, and warmth trickled through him.
When Dean’s breathing grew more even, he kissed Robin tenderly, his hand gentle on Robin’s chest, moving in slow circles. “Love watching you come,” he murmured.
“I think I got that part,” Robin said with a smile. He rolled slightly, until his chest met Dean’s, and Dean enveloped him, arms tight around him as they kissed, Dean’s leg hooked over his.
Robin gazed into Dean’s flushed face. “Yeah, the movie wasn’t that hot anyway.”
Dean stared at him for a moment, before laughing, his whole body shaking with the force of it. “So next time… another movie?”
Robin grinned. “Better still, no movie at all. We cut to the chase.” He glanced toward the window and waved. “Hey there, Dean’s neighbors.”
Dean jerked his head to look, and groaned. “I swear, you mess with my head.”
Robin stroked his cheek. “That’s okay. You’ve been messing with mine ever since you walked into the boatyard.”
Only, he’d never seen this coming.
Right then, what he really wanted was to see where it was going.