A boy.
There was only one thing wrong with that. Robin didn’t want a boy. He wanted a man.
I want someone with a little experience.
And hadn’t that been why Ryan had come up with the whole ski instruction scenario? In hindsight Robin could admit how uncomfortable the situation had made him. He’d hated lying to Dean like that. Maybe I needed to come right out with it, and say why I was there. What I want.
Except the thought of getting what he wanted sent dual shivers of desire and terror skittering down his spine, and icy tingles spreading over his skin.
Do I dare? Will Dean say yes?
There was only one way to find out.
From beyond his bedroom door came the usual noises that told Robin his parents were going to bed. Problem was, he wasn’t sleepy.
I could always jerk off. That normally sent him off to sleep minutes after he’d come. He closed his eyes and pictured Dean in his tight jeans and tank top. Fantasy Dean’s crotch was pretty impressive, and not for the first time, Robin wondered what his dick looked like. Is he cut? Is it long? Thick? It was inevitable that such thoughts led to two vital questions.
Would it fit?
Fuck. How would it feel inside me?
Maybe it was time to find that out too.
Robin reached over and opened the nightstand drawer as quietly as he could. It would have made more sense to wait until he was certain his parents were asleep, but he was almost buzzing with the need to discover this new sensation. He removed the bottle of hand lotion, and set it on top of the nightstand. Then he reached under the comforter to take off his briefs. Upon reflection, he pushed the comforter back, and leaned against the padded headboard, his legs spread wide. A squeeze of hand lotion into his palm, and he was ready.
Robin stroked his dick, coating it with the lotion, not forgetting to rub over his balls too. He slid his hand lower, shivering as his fingers came into contact with his hole. There’s no rush. Take your time. He played with his cock, working its length until the shaft was rigid. Of course, by then he needed more lotion, because damn, it soaked in way too fast.
The first problem was one of logistics, namely, how to get his finger up his ass. In the end, he had one heel digging into his ass, while he drew up the other, the ball of his foot pressing into the mattress as he tried to raise his ass higher. He slid one hand down the front of his body, through the crease of his thigh, but it felt awkward. Then he tried with the other hand with a different approach, coming from behind, sliding his hand under his leg. It still wasn’t right.
In the end, Robin drew his knees up, spread his legs, and balanced on the balls of his feet, tilting his ass a little. More hand lotion, his hole exposed—now he was really ready.
He rubbed slick fingers over his hole, and his cock reacted with a jerk. He held it with his left hand, while he slowly pressed the index finger of his right into his tight, warm hole.
Oh God. He pushed it as deep as he could, wincing a little at the burn. After squeezing more lotion onto his finger, he tried it again, and this time it was better. When he’d gotten as far as the knuckle, he tried it with his middle finger, only now he was sliding it in and out, and fuck, it felt incredible. He alternated between the two fingers, his body writhing as intense pleasure washed over him.
Ryan has no idea what he’s missing out on.
The thought brought a smile, but then he pushed it aside, because thinking of Ryan while he was doing this? Ew. Another application of lotion, this time to his thumb, and then he pushed it deep, the pad facing forward. As it connected with his prostate, Robin shuddered. Oh fuck. He did it again, and again, and soon he was riding his thumb, rocking his ass, chasing the sensations, wanting more, more… His toes started to ache, so he planted his feet flat to the mattress, pushing into it as he lifted himself up and down, his thumb sliding in and out of him, his other hand gently stroking his shaft.
It was all too much and over way too fast. He stifled a groan as his rigid cock pulsed cum, spurting into the air and landing on his thigh, trickling down his dick and over his sac while he shuddered through it all, his body trembling, his legs most of all. When the shocks had ebbed away, Robin sagged against the headboard.
Holy fuck. And that was just my fingers.
He cleaned up with tissues, and stowed the lotion away in the drawer. Not that there seemed any point in hiding it now. Robin pulled the comforter up over his body, warm and sated from his orgasm. His last act before switching off his bedside lamp was to glance around his bedroom.
What have I got in here that I can use instead of fingers?
Dean poured himself a cup of coffee and walked into the living room, intending to see if there was anything worth watching on TV. Monday had seemed longer than usual, and what he really needed was to turn off his brain and watch something mindless and fun that wouldn’t tax him in the slightest. As he picked up the remote, a flash of light outside caught his eye and he walked out of the window.
Robin was coming up the front path with his bike.
Okay. Now what?
Dean went to the front door and opened it as Robin was leaning his bike against the house. “You’re back. You’d better get in out of the cold.”
“Thanks,” Robin murmured. He stepped into the house and Dean closed the door.
Dean folded his arms. “So, what is it this time? Let me guess. You’ve got something that needs unscrewing, and you want to borrow a screwdriver. Or maybe you’ve come to borrow a cup of sugar?”
Robin frowned. “Why would I be here for sugar?”
The question only served to demonstrate the gap in their ages. “Why are you here, Robin?” He knew it sounded harsh, seeing as the last time Robin had been there, they’d departed on more cordial terms. Except now, he was seeing that visit in a different light. That supposed Kris’s theory was correct, of course, and Robin really did have a crush on him.
“There’s something I need to clear up before we go any further,” Robin blurted out.
“And what’s that?”
“You are gay, right?”
Dean stared at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”
Robin looked relieved. “Okay, good.”
To Dean’s way of thinking, it sounded as if Robin was mentally checking a box. “Now suppose you tell me why it’s good.”
Robin’s breathing sped up, and Dean swore he was shaking a little. “Well… It’s like this… I wanted to ask…”
“For God’s sake, spit it out.”
Robin swallowed hard. “Okay. I’m… I’m a virgin.”
What the fuck?
Dean took a deep breath before replying. “That’s not only none of my business, it’s way too much information.”
“Please, don’t kick me out,” Robin pleaded.
That stopped him dead in his tracks. “I’m not going to do that,” Dean said quietly. “But I think you’d better go into my living room and sit down, and then we’ll talk.”
Robin nodded and dashed ahead of him into the living room. When Dean got there, Robin was sitting on the edge of the seat cushion, his hands clasped between his knees. Lady came over to sit at his feet, gazing at him, but he made no attempt to pet her.
Dean sat on the sofa facing him. He felt it was better to put some space between them. “Why are you telling me this?”