As soon as Finn got out of the car, Robbie was kissing him—not rough, but handsy, cupping Finn’s face, drawing him into the house like he had his own gravitational pull. Finn followed helplessly, desperate for more of Robbie’s touch, his lips, his tongue in Finn’s mouth.
He blinked and they were upstairs, peeling each other’s clothes off in the warm light of Robbie’s bedside lamp.
Robbie wasn’ttalking, which would’ve been strange, except how could he talk when his mouth was busy exploring Finn’s, or kissing down the side of Finn’s neck, or sucking Finn’s nipple? Finn couldn’t string two brain cells together into a word that wasn’t Robbie’s name if his life depended on it, so he could hardly complain. Not when Robbie made him feel so good.
Not when Robbie wrapped his lips around Finn’s cock and fingered him open, slow and deliberate.
“Baby. Sweetheart.” Oh,nowhe was talking—honey-sticky, low, like he wasn’t speaking for Finn’s benefit but couldn’t help himself. “You’re so beautiful. I want to make you feel so good.”
Sweat broke out all over Finn’s body, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. He let his legs fall open, arched his back. His limbs trembled. His breath caught.
Robbie caught him behind the knee with one broad palm, stretched his leg carefully back, baring Finn to him, making room.
When he finally pushed inside, Finn felt out of his body. He clutched blindly at Robbie’s shoulders, his back, his ass, burning with the stretch of well-used muscles. But he couldn’t hold the position, not with his leg pinned nearly to his chest, so he had to relax into the mattress. Had to let Robbie take him.
Only, Robbie followed him down, chased Finn’s mouth with his own. His free hand tangled with Finn’s against the mattress. Trapped between their stomachs, Finn’s cock leaked, fluid smearing over his skin, in the line of hair that led down from Robbie’s navel. Just enough stimulation to render him senseless.
His orgasm sneaked up on him; he was riding a slowly building wave of pleasure, settling in, until suddenly his whole body tensed, and a soft, high, broken sigh fell from his lips into Robbie’s mouth. Robbie licked it away, kept thrusting, and Finn keptcoming, numb with pleasure, until Robbie’s rhythm faltered and he bit Finn’s lip as he came.
Finn’s brain went suddenly, blissfully quiet. He vaguely registered Robbie dealing with the condom before flopping down next to him, sweat-sticky, and curling an arm over his stomach.
Which was sticky with a lot more than just sweat, but fuck it. It was all Finn could do right now to breathe and keep his heart beating and not fall apart.
And then Robbie’s nose brushed his and his hand traced a gentle line over Finn’s eyebrow and down the side of his jaw, as achingly tender as anything Finn had ever felt.
Robbie kissed him, and Finn had to close his eyes. How could Robbie be this sweet with him, take care of him this way, make Finn feel likethis, and expect Finn not to fall in love with him? That was crazy, right?
Just like it was crazy to stay here in Robbie’s bed, wrapped up against him, and pretend there’d be no consequences, but Finn could have that crisis later.
Finally Robbie broke the kiss only to peck Finn on the nose. “Much as it pains me to say this, we should probably clean up.”
Translation: Time for Finn to go.
He swallowed back a useless upswell of emotion and nodded, swung his feet over the side of the bed.
But Robbie continued to be the king of mixed signals. He kept kissing Finn’s cheeks and nose and shoulders in the bathroom, while they were wiping the fluids from their bodies,and then he fished around in a drawer and came up with a toothbrush for Finn, as though he expected him to stay the night.
So maybe he wasn’t getting kicked out after all. Maybe Robbie was just allergic to dried jizz. Which was fair.
Finn brushed his teeth. He put on the boxers and threadbare Beavers T-shirt Robbie offered him and let Robbie coax him back into bed.
Finn should probably ask what was going on here. But it had been a hell of a week—work upheaval, personal upheaval—and the adrenaline comedown was a bitch. Robbie turned out the light and curled an arm around him, and Finn sank into his stupidly plush bed that smelled like Robbie and fell asleep.
Finn woketo an empty bed, but the sheets beside him were still warm. He could hear Robbie talking in the hallway; the urgency in his voice carried even through the closed door. Finn didn’t think this was another mixed signal. This was Robbie trying not to wake him up with whatever shitshow was happening on the other end of the phone line.
“—can’t just do that. Can they?” he asked. “I mean, like—Sawyer’s settled here, he’s happy here, he has abedroomhere. Why would CAS consider a petition from his grandparents?”
And that explained the tone.
Finn grimaced, shoved down his own anxieties, and met Robbie’s eye when he turned around, mid-pace of the hallway.
Robbie offered him a pained look.
“You want coffee?” Finn mouthed.
Robbie’s dark eyes went pleading and he mouthed back, “Thank you.”
They’d kind of breezed past the kitchen the night before, but it didn’t take a genius to find the coffee maker (on the counter) or the coffee (in the jar sitting next to the coffee maker) or the mugs (in the cupboard above the coffee maker). Finn figured he’d better make a whole pot and stared intently at it as it brewed, willing it to fill faster.
