Chapter Eighteen #2
“I haven’t even gotten started yet.” Dean emerged from behind the shed, armed with a couple of snowballs, and Robin let loose.
He flung his ammunition, aiming for Dean’s head, then launched himself into the air, knocking Dean to the ground.
Robin grabbed more snow and shoved it down the front of Dean’s jeans, doing his best to avoid Dean’s hands as he tried to grab hold of Robin.
They rolled on the snow, neither of them giving any ground, until their jackets and jeans were wet, and Robin’s icy T-shirt clung to him.
He managed to get Dean under him, then sat astride him, pinning his wrists to the ground.
“You give up?”
“Never!” Dean’s eyes gleamed.
Robin laughed. “Oh yeah? And how are you gonna get out of this one?”
Dean shoved at him, and sat upright, locking his arms around Robin’s waist. “By coming up with a better idea.” Then his lips were on Robin’s, and while Robin might have been freezing his ass off, heat raced through him.
“What idea?” Robin murmured against Dean’s lips, before claiming his mouth in a hungry kiss. Suddenly he didn’t want to play out in the snow.
He wanted to play indoors. With a whole lot less clothing.
“You and me…” Dean gave him a long, leisurely kiss. “Taking a bath.”
Okay, that stopped him in his tracks. “Really?”
Dean nodded. “Bubbles, candles, me scrubbing your back…” Another kiss, only this one was sweeter. “And any other bits of you that need a thorough washing.”
Robin was off him and on his feet in a heartbeat. “Last one in gets to sit at the plug end.” Then he ran toward the house, laughing.
His day was looking pretty damn perfect.
This was definitely a first for Dean.
Candles flickered around the edge of the tub and on the windowsill, and the air was filled with the subtle sweet scent of vanilla. His head rested on a folded towel, and Robin’s head lay against his shoulder, his back against Dean’s chest, Dean’s legs on either side of his.
Thank God for a corner tub.
“How long before we begin to prune?” Robin murmured.
Dean let out a happy sigh. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this content. The water had a silky feel to it, even though the bubbles had all but disappeared. “Remind me to thank Diane when I see her next.”
“Who’s Diane, and what are you thanking her for?”
Dean rubbed Robin’s chest in slow circles, the skin smooth beneath his fingertips. The only body hair Robin possessed was his pubes and on his legs. Dean had nothing against furry guys, but this was heaven. “She’s a friend. She bought me the bubble bath last Christmas.”
“Then yeah, thank her. It feels and smells amazing.” Robin peered over the side of the tub. “Er… don’t look now but we have an audience.”
Dean chuckled. “I think we’re safe. Lady hates the water. And Loki avoids the tub these days. He’s already fallen into it at least four times.” He turned his head and softly kissed Robin’s temple. “Can I ask you something?”
“Ask fast before I fall asleep. This is awesome.”
Dean bestowed another kiss. “What do you want out of life?”
“Ooh, a deep conversation.” Robin inclined his head to peer at Dean. “You always do your deep thinking in the tub?”
“Always. Now answer the question.” Dean had no idea what had prompted it. Maybe it was a desire to know more about his—boyfriend? Lover? Dean didn’t have a word that fully encompassed Robin.
“If I’m totally honest? To do a job I enjoy, and to have enough money and time to do the other things I enjoy.”
“Such as?”
“Canoeing, skiing… You already know I want to do the Classic one day. And then…”
Robin’s abrupt silence intrigued him. “What?”
“I always wanted to try my hand at sailing, but boats cost a small fortune.” Robin sighed. “I had this dream of taking a boat someplace hot and tropical, with crystal clear waters and lush trees. Living on a boat, diving into the ocean every morning for a swim, sunning myself on deck…”
“Sounds idyllic. Can I come too?” Dean teased. “I’ll be your cabin boy.”
Robin laughed, and the happy sound filled Dean with a lightness he’d never known. Dean grabbed the washcloth and soap, and washed Robin’s chest with slow strokes. Robin chuckled. “I think you already did that part.”
“Well, I’m doing it again. I didn’t do such a good job the first time.” Dean kissed Robin’s cheek. “What about kids?”
“Hey, if you wanna rent a few for the trip…”
Dean laughed. “So you don’t have any burning desire to have children?”
“Not really. Maybe later. Besides…” Robin craned his neck to meet Dean’s gaze. “Imagine if I fathered twins. They might turn out like Ryan.” His face contorted in a mask of mock horror.
“Or they could turn out like you,” Dean said quietly.
Robin straightened his features. “What about you? Do you want kids?”
Dean shrugged. “No burning desire here either. I’m happy with my cats. Now, if you asked if I wanted more cats…”
Robin laughed. “Now you’re talking.” He shivered. “I think the water’s getting cold.”
“Then how about we wrap ourselves up in towels, go downstairs, and sit by the fire?” He’d been intending to light one.
Robin’s eyes sparkled. “What are we waiting for?” He stood carefully, and Dean had the perfect view of Robin’s smooth ass, water trickling down his back and beading on those firm cheeks.
Okay, that was so fucking tempting…
“Wait a sec,” he said as Robin placed one foot on the tiled floor.
“What?” Robin’s breathing hitched as Dean spread his cheeks.
“I have to check I washed off all the cookie dough.”
Robin twisted around to stare at him. “I thought you did that downstairs.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being thorough,” Dean informed him, before leaning in to trace over Robin’s pucker with his tongue. Before he got there, however, Robin reached back to spread himself. Dean chuckled. “Apparently I’m not the only one who thinks like that.”
“You can never be too sure.” When Dean reached for the towel he’d used as a head rest, Robin gave him another hard stare. “What, you changed your mind?”
“Hey, I’d rather not taste bubble bath, okay?” He quickly gave Robin’s ass a wipe with it.
“Oh. Gotcha.” Then all talk ceased when Dean buried his face in Robin’s crease. Robin groaned. “Jesus, your tongue…”
Dean made a mental note to pick up supplies from his bedroom. Just in case.
Robin was in heaven.
A roaring fire, a soft rug to sit on in front of it, a warm throw around him, and a mug of hot chocolate.
Of course, the best part was sitting opposite.
Dean’s throw had slipped off his shoulders, and he sat there naked, the firelight casting dancing shadows over his skin, legs bent, his hands resting on his knees.
“I can’t remember the last time Dad lit the fire,” Robin murmured.
Dean stared into the flames. “When I was house-hunting, a working fireplace was one of the must-haves on my list. I remember when I was little, how we used to sit around the fire at Christmas.” He smiled. “Of course, I had on more clothes than I do right now.”
“I’m not complaining about the view.”
Dean chose that moment to lean back, and it instantly drew Robin’s gaze to his dick.
“You did that on purpose.”
Dean’s eyes twinkled. “I’m sure I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Robin glanced at the basket next to the fireplace. Lady and Loki were curled up asleep together, and it was the sweetest sight.
Dean followed his gaze. “Cats will always find the warmest spot.” He peered at Robin’s mug. “Are you done with that?”
Robin nodded. His heart raced as Dean took the mug from him, and placed it with his own on the hearth. “When do your friends get here?”
“Not until after dinner.” Dean looked up at the clock on the mantel. “It’s only five o’clock. We’ve got hours yet.”
“Hours for what?” Robin hoped he knew the answer.
“This.” Dean pushed the throw off Robin’s shoulders and shifted onto his knees, giving him a gentle shove as he eased Robin to lie on his back. Dean knelt above him, gazing at Robin’s body. “Do you know how sexy you are in this light?”
Robin stared at Dean’s firm body, drinking in his furred chest and that tantalizing treasure trail, his thick dick that curved up…
“Says you, who has to be the hottest fucking teacher that ever walked God’s earth.
” The words rang a bell, as though he recalled saying them before.
Then Robin laughed. My first fantasy about Dean.
“What’s so funny?” Dean demanded.
There was no way Robin could tell him. He held his arms wide. “You’re too far away,” he complained.
A moment later, Dean lay on top of him, his skin warm against Robin’s belly and chest, and their lips met in an unhurried kiss. Robin put his arms around Dean’s neck and pulled him closer still, bringing up his legs to wrap them around Dean’s waist.
“Gotcha,” he said with a smile, tightening his grip with his thighs.
“Now what are you going to do with me?” Dean said in that low, raw voice. He gave a leisurely roll of his hips, and his thick shaft slid against Robin’s erect cock.
“Want you,” Robin whispered.
“How do you want me?” Dean’s eyes were so dark.
“Want to feel you inside me.” Robin’s heart hammered, his breath quickening.
Dean knelt up, holding his dick steady as he brought the head into position, applying a little pressure. “Then that’s where I’ll be.” He reached under his throw.
Robin was too eager for what was coming to be amused that Dean had condoms and lube ready. He let out a low moan as Dean’s slick fingers penetrated him, only to gasp when Dean bent over to take Robin’s dick into his mouth.
Robin wanted to take things slow, but his body cried out for Dean’s touch, and he ached with need.
Dean kept the pace steady, however, sliding his lips up and down Robin’s shaft, his fingers stroking in and out of Robin’s body.
Each time Dean brushed the pad of a finger over his gland, Robin moaned, until white-hot desire pulsed through him, threatening to shatter him.
“Dean,” he pleaded.