If Robin was desperate enough to try it. Then he gave an internal snort. I’d have to be really desperate to even think about doing that.
Except he was that desperate, and he knew it.
Chapter Four
Robin’s Thursday was going to hell, and it was all Ryan’s fault.
It had started going downhill when Ryan’s message arrived shortly after ten a.m. Robin had only glanced at the screen, intending to check it out further when he’d finished working on the new gunwale, but Ryan’s cryptic message had intrigued him.
Some research for ya.
Robin should have known better than to look. This was Ryan, after all. Robin thought he’d gotten off lightly when there had been no comeback after their FaceTime conversation of two days before.
Yeah. No hope of that.
What appeared on his phone was a gif showing a naked young man on his knees, his head bobbing as he sucked off an older guy with obvious enthusiasm. It was kinda mesmerizing for all of five seconds until his dad walked into the room, and Robin hurriedly shoved the phone into his back pocket. His dad hadn’t noticed, thank God. As soon as Robin was alone once more, he pulled out his phone and stared at the moving image. The older guy’s cock was an impressive length, but the twink swallowed it with ease. Wow. He’s obviously done that before.
“How’s that new gunwale coming along?” Dad called out.
Back to work.
Half an hour later, another message arrived—another gif. This time, it was a twink on a bed, his feet high in the air, held apart at the ankles by an older guy who was fucking him—with a very large dick. Watching that monster spearing the kid over and over again was enough to make Robin’s hole contract. Then he noticed the message.
Do you think Mr. Ski Instructor fucks like this?
This time it was more difficult to put his phone away. Robin had tried very hard not to think about Mr. Quentin since his appearance at the boatyard Tuesday. Such thoughts during the day were a distraction, like his phone was proving to be. Every now and again Robin would think about removing it from his pocket, but then reconsidered. His dad was never happy when he caught Robin on his phone during the workday.
As lunch drew near, his phone pinged again. Robin took it from his pocket and peered at the screen. There was only one word in the text, Enjoy, followed by a link—and a couple of emojis that needed no explanation. One look at the URL told him it had to be porn.
Robin typed fast. Do I even want to know where you’re finding these? Is there something you want to tell me?
It’s my mission to get my brother laid. Problem with that?
Robin groaned internally. Don’t you have class or something?
A few seconds later, Ryan pinged back. Hey, I’m doing all the legwork here. All you have to do is sit back and enjoy. With tissues.
Robin rolled his eyes. You may not be working, but I am.
Ryan’s reply made him laugh out loud. If I can take time out of my day to find gay porn for my older, sexually repressed twin brother… The things I do for you… The sacrifices… ;-)
Chuckling, Robin replied. Sexually repressed. Big words coming from you. I guess college is good for something, huh?
Fuck you. Now do your homework and watch. Don’t let Dad catch you though. Got lube on you? Aw, pity. Looks like you’ll have to wait.
The next time Robin saw his twin, he was going to kill him.
The door opened, and Dad poked his head around it. “I’m going home for lunch today. Do you want to come too?”
Robin shook his head. “Go spend time with Mom. I’m sure you guys need some alone time.” He grinned. “You know, like you used to do before you had kids.”
Dad arched his eyebrows at that, but chuckled. “I’ll put up the Out for Lunch sign. I’ll be back in an hour.” Then he was gone.
Robin waited until he heard the main door close, then whipped out his phone. He glanced at the oil he’d used on the gunwale, then dismissed it. No way was he going to put that anywhere near his dick. It would have to be good old-fashioned spit.
He sat on the stool, popped the button on his jeans, lowered the zip, and fished out his cock, his heartbeat quickening. This was something new. He clicked on the link, then hurriedly turned down the volume. No point in attracting attention, should anyone happen to be walking past the boatyard.
And that means I can’t make any noises either.
He gazed at the screen, his breathing becoming shallow as he watched the scene unfold. His first thought was that Ryan had gone to a lot of trouble. This was no random link he’d sent.
There was a plot, for one thing. A teenager was visiting the home of a hot older man, making stupid excuses for his presence there. The older guy saw right through him, however, and they ended up fucking on the guy’s pool table. Robin’s gaze was glued to the screen, breathless as he watched the guy plow the twink’s ass, his cheeks hollowing as he thrust deep into the young man’s hole. Robin knew he had an hour, but that didn’t stop him from speeding up his hand. There was no way he wanted to be doing this when his dad got back. But fuck, it was awesome. Wicked. Hot as hell.
Thirty minutes later, he’d watched it three times, and shot his load twice. It had to be the best lunchtime ever, even if he spent the remainder of the time cleaning up and spraying the air to remove the smell of cum.
Okay, maybe I won’t kill Ryan after all. Looks like he has his uses.
There had to be some psychic connection between twins, because right then Ryan messaged him.
Had your lunch yet? Remember you need to eat too. You gotta keep up your strength. LMAO
Robin wasn’t stupid. He knew porn wasn’t real. But the scene had sown the glimmer of an idea. Maybe Ryan’s suggestion wasn’t so dumb after all. Could I do it? Because Ryan had been right about one thing—Robin was most definitely sexually repressed.
The only thing was this could go one of two ways. Mr. Quentin would either kick his butt and tell his dad, or it could end up being Robin’s luckiest day ever.
Dean opened his front door and knew instantly there was trouble. Lady was sitting in the middle of the hallway, looking for all the world as if she was waiting for him.
“Hey, cutie.” Dean put his bag down on the chair, then crouched to stroke her. “How long have you been sitting there, waiting for me?” He scootched her under her chin, and she purred, rubbing her head against his knee. “You miss me?”
A pitiful yowl came from the bathroom.
Oh God. Tigger. Dean had figured the safest place to leave him was in the bathroom. Lady gave all the signs that she didn’t mind the newcomer, but he wasn’t about to leave that to chance while he was at work all day. Maybe in a few weeks they could revisit the idea after he’d had the chance to watch the two of them together.
He opened the bathroom door and froze. “Oh my God.” The basket of cat toys sat untouched, but the rest of the bathroom wasn’t nearly as lucky. How much havoc can one small kitten wreak? The shower curtain was no longer hanging over the tub, but was lying on the floor in shreds, the hoops that had secured it to the rail lying with it. The rail was down too, hanging from only one end.
“What did that poor curtain ever do to you?” And where was the little monster?
Near the toilet, the tiled floor was decorated with shredded toilet paper, the roll on its holder, empty. The bottles of shampoo and bodywash he’d left around the side of the tub were now on the floor, and the contents of both had created a sticky mess. On the sink, his toothbrush was no longer visible. God knew where the little bastard had hidden it.