her aside after the last Kleenex comment and mentioned how she was embarrassing the fuck out of him. Not that he could imagine his dad using those exact words, but…
“Robin?”
“Coming, Mom.” One last glance in the mirror assured him he looked okay. He stuffed his feet into his boots, grabbed his coat and wool hat, and left the bedroom.
Mom arched her eyebrows as he came into the living room. “Going someplace?”
“Yeah,” he said as casually as he could manage. “Thought I’d go ride my bike.”
Dad glanced up from his phone. “Again? You on some health kick you haven’t told us about?”
“Actually, I got a call from… Ben Taylor. He said I could come over and play on his PlayStation with him.” He hated lying, but it was way better than telling the truth.
Mom frowned. “Ben? I know that name.”
Robin nodded. “He graduated the same time as me. I ran into him when I went skiing on Saturday.” He held his breath, sighing inwardly with relief when no more questions were forthcoming. “I won’t be back late.”
“Be safe.” Mom always said that.
Robin went over to the couch, bent down, and kissed her cheek. “I will, I promise.” He gave a nod to Dad, and then he was out of there.
Outside, snow was falling, the first snow of December, and already Christmas lights were going up on some of the neighbors’ houses, so bright against the fresh white blanket that covered the roofs and sidewalks. Robin put on his helmet, switched on his light, and set off along the road.
He cycled past one house where someone had erected a giant inflatable Santa Claus, complete with rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes. Robin smiled to himself. It had been many years since his last letter to Santa, but maybe the guy in the red suit was exactly what Robin needed right then. Because what Robin wanted was a little Christmas magic of his own.
He’d left Dean’s house with his head in a whirl on Monday. He still didn’t know how he’d found the nerve to say all that, and he wasn’t sure what he’d expected Dean’s reaction to be. But being sent away to think about it had been tough.
He thinks I’m a kid, doesn’t he? Some horny little kid who wants to experiment.
Well, he was horny, he couldn’t deny that. But in the three days since he’d last seen Dean, something had changed. Some of the things Dean had said had really hit home, especially when he’d spoken about his own experiences—and how he’d wanted his first time to be. Robin didn’t want a quick, fumbling fuck—he wanted to take his time, to burn it into his memory.
Most of all, he wanted to enjoy it.
Dean’s comments made him realize Dean knew how important this was to him, and that gave him a glimmer of hope. And after Robin’s… experiments of the past few days, he was more than ready to experience the real thing.
Except that all depended on Dean.
Robin got off his bike outside Dean’s house, and wheeled it up the path. A shadow fell over the lawn, and Robin glanced toward the window. Dean stood there, watching him, back-lit by the room’s warm lights.
It looks like he’s waiting for me. Robin’s stomach clenched. But waiting to tell me what?
He leaned his bike against the house and climbed the steps to the door. Dean opened it before he could ring the bell. “Hey. Come on in.”
Robin followed him into the warm house, and Dean shut the door behind them. Dean waited while Robin removed his coat, then hung it on a hook. Robin toed off his boots, and for a moment they stood there in silence.
All of a sudden Robin saw the truth. He’s as nervous about this as I am.
“I’ve just made some coffee—if you even like coffee. I could make hot chocolate if you’d prefer. Or there’s juice, milk…”
Robin smirked. “I look that young?”
Dean laughed. “What do you want to drink?”
“Juice is good.”
Dean pointed to the living room. “I believe someone is expecting you.”
Sure enough, Lady was standing on the couch, looking for all the world as though she was waiting for him. Then a little ball of stripes and spots made a dash across the floor, aiming for Robin’s ankles, and he chuckled. “Well hello, Loki. And what chaos have you created today?” Robin crouched, and the kitten had its claws into his knee in seconds, trying to climb him like a tree.
“Be careful. Loki likes to climb things,” Dean