ASHTON
Was I coming on too strong? During the entire ride on the underground, I tried not to second-guess myself.
Robbie was a baby gay, barely out of the nest, and here was me asking him to fly.
The bubble of excitement I felt early was making my belly ache as nerves caught up with me.
Hands sweaty and my pulse racing. I didn’t want to scare him, but I also didn’t want to give up the possibility that this could be the start of something wonderful. Something real.
My jittery hands made unlocking my apartment door harder.
As the door opened, I had a slight panic that I’d left a mess behind.
Not just leaving the odd plate in the sink, or a few bits of laundry thrown over the floor.
No, it would be more of a personal nature.
Involving far too much lube. Just the thought of what I’d imagined while working myself over was enough to make a sailor blush.
The man I imagined doing that with was standing right next to me.
Completely oblivious of just how deep my interest in him ran.
If you were to look up the definition of a fanboy, then my face would be there under the heading of ‘hopelessly infatuated’.
When I was messaging with Rick, I was intrigued by his son.
When Robbie messaged me the other week, it awakened the part of me I’d kept sealed off from the harshness of the world.
I was more than aware that I’d been treading water, not going anywhere with my life. Burying my insecurity and lack of career satisfaction with sex. On an introspective level, I understood it. I just couldn’t seem to stop. Or really do anything about it.
That was another lie I told myself.
Sometimes I scan job listings for art docent or museum curator openings. In a city so full of culture, those jobs were scarce.
What did Robbie see when he looked at me? Did he see me as just a cam boy?
Or did he see past all of that? Seemed like he did.
I hoped he had.
I really, like, like him. He’s just so sweet and so handsome; when we kissed, it was-everything I hoped it would be.
Now he’s here with me in my space, and my heart was in my mouth.
“Do you live alone?”
I was so lost in my head that I almost missed his question.
“Yeah, I live alone, although my buddy Gavin is here so often it feels like he lives here.”
I looked around the room, wondering what Robbie noticed first. Was it the décor or my oversized leather couch, the one that took up half the room?
“Wow, that thing’s a monster.”
“Thank you, oh, you mean the couch...”
Robbie’s blush was adorable. For a hot second there, I thought he was talking about something else; I was trying to have pure intentions, but my mind went to the gutter faster than Gavin demolished cookies.
“It’s super comfy and long enough to stretch out on. Take a seat. I’ll go get you some blankets.”
I left him to his own devices while I hunted down some spare bedding. Rarely letting people stay over at my place. I shared enough of myself with the world. This part of my life I wanted to keep private.
Not from him, Robbie made me want to open up and share my deepest fears and darkest secrets, and everything in between.
Plucking the spare pillow from my bed and a quilt I picked up from a stall in Portobello Road, I headed back to the sitting room.
“Here you go.” I placed the bedding to one side; he was standing in front of one of my paintings.
“Wow, this one is...interesting.” He was turning his head from side to side, trying to figure out what the subject matter was.
Not really a surprise, seeing as it was a Leonid-Afremov a modern impressionist painter who liked to use bursts of vibrant colour.
“It’s a spectacular study of a cityscape, replacing grey shades with vibrant colours. ”
Shelves free from clutter. I wasn’t one for niknaks but I liked to fill my walls with art and my shelves with books.
Oh, shit, books. Including Robbie’s. Angling to the right, I hoped to block his view of it and instead steered him toward the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and sticking my head inside, looking for drinks while cooling my blush.
At some point I was going to have to sneak that book off my shelf and tuck it out of sight.
Having to explain its well-used condition would be-embarrassing.
I’d read it so many times that I knew the story by heart.
Hearing Robbie’s words in my head as I devoured each page.
I’d been counting the days until his next novel in the series was released.
Reading his work had made me feel close to him. Feeding a starving part of my soul.
But it was so much more than that; it was an escape from truths I wasn’t ready to face. It made me want to live in the reality he created.
Shoulders tensed; his crystal blue eyes held a weariness that spoke more of a deep inner battle than those of an indie author struggling with their sexuality.
I wanted to be a shoulder to lean on, a supporter to cheer him on, and a champion to help fight his battles, no matter what those might be.
Maybe I was getting ahead of myself-again.
Feet shuffling, his breath shallow, Robbie fixed his eyes on my lips as I peeked at him from around the door.
“I’ll take a Coke if you have one.”
Turning, I held out a can of soda, our fingers brushing.
Awareness of just how close we were standing struck me as Robbie leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine.
“Thanks.” His voice was soft, more like a caress.
Thanks? For what, being nice to him, forgiving him, somewhere to sleep for the night, or the kiss?
My words of ‘you’re welcome’ died on my lips as I reached a hand around his neck and held him in place. Covering his mouth with my own.
Our moans, the only sound. As our gentle kiss deepened. His arms drew me closer. Thoughts of drinks all but forgotten as my fingers threaded through his soft hair and held on tight.
We stumbled back toward the sitting room and fell onto the couch.
Twisting, turning, touching, burning.
Hands caressed, clothes sliding to the floor as Robbie straddled my hips, his bare chest pressed against mine as I writhed under him.
Frotting with our jeans on was not the most comfortable, and my dick felt like it was being strangled by my pants. This close, I could see the lighter flecks of blue in Robbie’s eyes, looking more like a soft, cloud-filled sky.
He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my throat, and I arched my back, seeking more of him.
The world outside the room melted away. Only his touch, his scent, his deepening passion mattered.
Every breath was a shared thing, every sigh an echo of the other.
I met his gaze, a silent question passing between us.
I answered the raw need reflected there with a buck of my hips.
Both of us were panting, desperate and aching. I was seconds away from blowing my load. Just the smallest of touches was all it took. Robbie’s hand moved from my hip to graze my nipple, and I was done. Shuddering through my climax while Robbie rode out his.
Grabbing the quilt, I pulled it over our cooling bodies. The soft fabric was a comforting weight as I settled into a peaceful sleep, Robbie’s warm presence beside me.