Chapter Nineteen #2
“Do we have to go down to the restaurant?”
Dean chuckled. “No, baby. We can eat here. I’ll call room service.”
Robin sighed. “Does that mean we have to move?”
“Well, unless you want to shock the waiter when he delivers the food…”
That earned him another sigh. “Okay.”
Dean kissed the tip of his nose. “But I promise, as soon as he’s gone, we can get naked again.”
“And can we eat dinner in bed?”
Dean kissed him on the lips. “We can do whatever the fuck we want. This is our weekend, remember?”
And he intended to get the most out of every minute.
The Metropolitan Museum was a treasure-trove of fascinating artwork, and Robin could quite happily have spent a week there, rather than a few hours. Of course, they would have had more hours if Robin hadn’t decided to awake Dean with his mouth on Dean’s morning wood.
A slow morning fuck could fast become Robin’s favorite activity. Too bad we won’t get the chance again. Dean could always arrange another weekend away, but Robin wasn’t sure his parents would buy another dance production.
Waking up in Dean’s arms had been… wonderful.
“What do you think?” Dean’s question interrupted his sensual recollection.
Robin gazed at The Death of Socrates. “If someone gave me the choice of giving up my ideas or drinking hemlock that was gonna kill me, I don’t think I’d have gone for the hemlock.
I mean, look at him. He’s on his deathbed and he’s obviously still talking.
He’s not ready to go yet.” He grinned. “And is it really bad that in my head he’s So-Crates?
You know, like in the Bill and Ted movie? ”
“Yes, it is,” Dean said firmly. He leaned in. “Having a good time?”
“No—having an awesome time.” Robin couldn’t decide what had been his favorite artwork of the visit.
He’d loved the paintings, and had found artists he’d never heard of, whose work needed a closer inspection.
Caravaggio was one of them. But the sculpture had blown him away.
The Sphinx of Hatshepsut and the human-headed winged lions were at the top of the list, but that statue of Venus…
She seemed so human. The skill it must have taken to get the marble to appear so lifelike…
He smiled as he recalled his remark to Dean, that she looked like someone had walked into her bathroom after she’d gotten out of the shower, and she was clutching her towel to her, saying something like ‘Will you get the fuck out of here?’
Dean had laughed his ass off at that.
All too soon, the visit came to an end. Robin hated this feeling that time was against them.
He wanted to hold onto every precious second, because who knew how long it would be before they’d get the chance again?
But Dean wanted to visit the Rockefeller Center before the show that evening, and Robin knew what that meant—ice skating.
“How come you’ve never done this before?” Dean asked in the taxi on their way to Rockefeller Plaza. “Lake Placid has a couple of ice rinks in the Olympic Center. I’m surprised you haven’t gone there.”
“Look, I know I wouldn’t be any good at it, okay?”
Dean blinked. “How could you know that without trying?”
“If you’d seen me with my brand-new pair of rollerblades on my seventh birthday, you wouldn’t need to ask. Trust me, I was crap at it. That was enough for me. If I couldn’t manage those little wheels, I sure as shit couldn’t manage thin steel blades. Fuck that.”
Dean stared at him for a moment. “You were seven. That was quite a while ago.”
“So? It scarred me for life!” Robin protested. Dean looked away, staring out the window, but his shaking shoulders were a dead giveaway. “This is not funny, okay?”
Except now that he thought about it, it was funny as hell.
Dean laced his fingers through Robin’s, and the intimate gesture filled him with warmth. “At least give it a try? For me?”
Robin sighed. “Fine.”
Who was he kidding? He’d do anything for Dean, and he knew it. Dean had him, heart, body and soul.
Maybe this is the perfect time to tell him how I feel. After the skating, though. As long as I don’t break anything, and we have to visit the Emergency Room.
What he really wanted was the two of them, alone. Heartfelt revelations would have to wait.
“It looks easy enough,” Robin observed as he watched the people skate serenely by.
Dean was already stepping out onto the ice. “Come on, baby,” he said with a smile. “You’ve got this.”
Robin glared at him. “Not necessarily. And is that ‘baby’ meant as ‘you’re adorable’ or ‘you’re such a baby’?”
“You’re adorable, of course. Look, what’s the worst that could happen? You fall on your ass or your knees. And as you’re not going to be going that fast, it won’t hurt. Much.” His eyes twinkled.
“Not helping,” Robin growled.
“Just step out onto the ice. I’ll help you, okay?” His voice rang with confidence.
Fuck it. Dean’s right. I can do this. How hard can it be?
Robin gingerly stepped out onto the ice, and his skates skittered over it. He grabbed onto the ledge to stop himself from landing flat on his ass. His feet kept slipping, as if they were trying to escape the rest of his body. He pulled himself upright and clung to the wall.
“I’ve figured it out. It works if I don’t move.”
Dean laughed. “How about trying a couple of steps?”
“No!” Robin didn’t dare breathe, let alone move.
“I know what’s gonna happen. I’ve seen the cartoons.
My legs are gonna go in opposite directions, and I’ll end up breaking something.
” He took a deep breath and surveyed the skaters sailing past them.
“Okay, I’ve done it now. I’ve been on the ice. Let’s go.”
Dean held out his hand. “I’ve got you,” he said simply. “And if you fall, I’ll pick you up. Every time.”
Robin narrowed his gaze. “You say that like I’m gonna fall more than once.”
Dean moved in closer, his hand on Robin’s cheek. “I wish you could’ve seen me the first time I went out on the ice. It was awful. But I didn’t give up, and now it’s one of my favorite things to do. And I want to share that with you.”
That got through to him.
Robin sighed. “Okay. Here goes.” He took two tentative steps before his legs shot from under him, and he landed hard on his ass. “Ouch.”
Dean helped him up. “Do it again. Like I said, you’ve got this.”
Robin rubbed his ass. “Says you.” He took another step, and slipped again. When Dean helped him to his feet, Robin sighed once more. “This is not for me. It’s cold, for one thing.”
“You ski, so let’s scrap that excuse.”
Robin pointed to the skaters who flew by them. “It’s too fast.”
“No one says you have to go at that speed. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”
Robin rubbed his ass again. “It hurts.”
Dean’s eyes sparkled. “That’s what you said your first time, but it didn’t stop you coming back for more. And after last night, I’m not surprised.”
“Okay, okay.” Robin made one last attempt. “I don’t know how,” he said at last.
“Then let me show you.” Dean held on tight to his hand. “Keep your legs close. Now walk. That’s all, walk.”
Robin took a step, and to his relief he stayed upright.
“Yay.” Dean squeezed his hand. “Now… move your right leg, then your left. Repeat. Keep repeating. And don’t stop! If you stop, you’ll fall. The key to this is skating with one leg, while the other pushes you forward. That’s called gliding.”
“No. Really?” Robin rolled his eyes. He did as instructed, however, and when he remained upright, he felt invincible. Together, they made their way around the rink, Robin taking it easy, holding Dean’s hand in a tight grip. Once they’d done a complete circuit, Robin grew bolder.
“Gonna try it without using you as stabilizers,” he announced.
Dean nodded and let go. Robin gave a little wobble, but he didn’t fall over.
He set off, his arms out to his sides for balance, and amazingly, he kept upright.
Dean was beside him every inch of the way, giving encouragement and praise, and by the time they’d been out on the ice for an hour, Robin was ready to take on anything.
Okay, so he was never gonna be Nathan Chen, but he could go ice skating with Dean, and that was what mattered.
They got to the side, and Robin stood there for a moment, drinking it all in: the music; the silver flags all around the rink, fluttering in the breeze; the trees with their tiny white lights; the gold statue at the foot of the tower, gleaming in the spotlights; and the tree, so huge, its surface covered in thousands of lights, a white star shining at its summit.
It was a magical moment.
It was also getting dark.
“Do we have to go?” he asked.
Dean nodded. “Time to head back to the hotel and change for the performance.”
Robin took one last look around. “This was great.” And way too short.
Dean leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Then we’ll come back next year and do it again.”
Robin smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
It wasn’t until they were walking away from the Rockefeller Center in search of a taxi that Dean’s words sank in.
Next year? Robin really liked the implication.
“Well, what did you think?” Dean asked as they strolled along Eight Avenue, heading for the restaurant where the after-production party was taking place. The street was full of traffic, horns honking and lights flashing.
It was Saturday night in NYC for sure, and what felt like a million miles away from Lake Placid. It also served as a reminder of why he’d swapped Chicago for Lake Placid.
Give me peace and quiet any day.
“It was louder than I thought it would be.”
“The music?” Dean hadn’t found it that obtrusive.
“No—the sound of their feet landing on the stage. Do you think they edit that out when they show dance on TV?”
Dean laughed. “I suppose. But did you enjoy it?”
Robin coughed. “You didn’t tell me it was gonna be like that.”
“Like what?” Dean knew what was coming.
“So freaking hot. I mean, tights don’t hide a lot anyway, but whoa… That was one helluva sexy number near the end. They did everything but fuck on stage.”