Chapter Eight
Life is never direct, it is never straight-forward, it is always tangential, it always contains twists and turns and unforeseen possibilities and alternate routes.
So it was with Robin and Simon; in all of the Hollywood RomComs, the primary couple never has a straight path to the altar, they are always troubled by annoyances major as well as minor, typically the failure to fit together two entirely non-overlapping personalities.
In the infamous Hallmark Christmas heartbreakers, the happy couple is never happy until the very end, in which they fall into each other's arms and pledge to live happily ever after. Perhaps in some alternate universe, there is a `happy every after' awaiting some couple, but not in the realities of everyday life in coastal southern California.
In those realities, there is always the trash to take out, the dishes to wash, the dog to feed, the bills to pay, and the bushes to trim in order to not annoy the neighbors; for Robin, there was a raft of grad school papers to read and mark up, for which he kept handy several red pens. For Simon, there was always the pantry inventory to keep abreast of, the wine cabinet to monitor, the bills to pay for water, gas, electricity, rent, taxes, food, alcohol, and weekly wages.
Time is always the biggest enemy of smooth romantic relationships; if, after reading and marking three dozen grad school papers, accompanied by a bottle of scotch, there is any energy left, the lucky lover may be able to find an hour or two for his mate. If, after revising menus and ordering food supplies and paying the bills and cataloging the inventory and strategizing hourly schedules and managing the marketing campaign, there is any energy left, the lucky lover may find an hour or two for his mate.
Robin threw down his red pen and grabbed a nearly empty high-ball glass, and swigged the remaining half ounce of scotch, now clearly room temperature and with a sliver of ice. He picked up his cell phone and called Simon: voice mail. Damn. He marched to the wet bar and refilled his glass with three new ice cubes and a large splash of scotch and retreated to the sofa in the great room. As he was finding a comfortable spot to relax into, he heard his cell phone ring and could not recall where he had left it.
By the time he reached his study and found the offending electronic instrument, the ringing had stopped and Simon had left a voice mail message. "Hope you are well; call me later." Robin debated whether he should make the drive to the north side of Malibu to the restaurant, but given the time, already well past 8 PM, he decided that the phone was the reasonable remedy.
At 10 PM, when he was emerging from the shower and clearing his path to the bed, Robin's phone rang again: Simon again. This time, he reached it in time to avoid another voice mail message. "Hey, sorry I have been missing you, how was your day?"
"Hectic, we have had a half dozen holiday parties every day, so gearing up for all of that was massive, and that together with the usual winter percentage of flu and coughs and colds among my staff, it has been a major juggling act. But other than that, how have you been?"
"Missing you. Grading papers. Trying to stay sober."
"Why? It's the holiday season."
"True, but despite that, I am not necessarily a drunk nor an alcoholic, although I do enjoy my drinks, but I can't let that interfere with my duties."
Simon asked "What duties?"
"Oh, you know, grading papers, choosing a Christmas gift for you, cleaning the house, catching up with family back in the Midwest, other trivia."
Simon laughed; "There is no need to get me a Christmas gift, I have almost everything I think that I need." With one exception, he mused to himself.
"Well too late, it is a done deal. When can I bring it to you?"
"Let's see, it's another week until the big day, and we are going to be closed that day, so I suppose we could spend some time together then?"
"Perfect, but do I have to wait a week to see you again? I am not sure I can do that." Robin tried to keep the plaintive sound out of his voice but was not sure he was successful.
"OK, look, usually I have Tuesdays off, but this week I am working straight through the week because of the holiday parties we have booked, but Thursday is a little lighter load, so if you want to drop by late Thursday, say 8 PM, will that work for you?"
"I will make it work" Robin said.
Robin was hating his life for the next three days as he counted down the hours until he could see Simon. He spent time in his study, he spent time in his office at the grad school, he worked on his academic paper for presentation in the conference in Istanbul, he wandered through the mall at Park Pacific, he even researched selling the Mercedes.
He spent part of a morning surfing, and that same afternoon grocery shopping, thinking of having Stuart and Raj join him for dinner late on Christmas Day, with Simon, of course. Wine-braised short ribs, scalloped potatoes, broccoli with Hollandaise, store-bought crescent rolls, Grandma's buttermilk pie. Lots of wine. Not trying to compete with the culinary skills of Simon.
It was finally Thursday, but the tension was even greater. Forcing himself to sit still was more than he could handle; take a drive down PCH, he thought, but that was a ridiculous idea in holiday traffic. He finally left for Malibu three hours early, blaming the holiday traffic, which, inevitably due to Murphy's Law, slowed him down just enough to reach Malibu an hour and a half early.
He stopped in a little strip mall and picked up some flowers; he contemplated buying Simon a bottle of wine but that would be coals to Newcastle, he realized. He managed to shave a half hour off the excess time, and finally gave in and drove sedately toward the restaurant.
Staying in his car, he was playing with his cell phone and updating his calendar for end-of-the-year activities, when there was a knock on his window. Startled, he looked up to see Simon. He opened the door, and was embraced by the South African, and then kissed.
"Wow, that was unexpected."
"Was it OK?"
"Of course, but I am not sure it was done very well. Here, let's try that again."
They kissed again, this time much longer and with greater need and passion.
Unbeknownst to Simon, his maître d', together with the head waiter and the sommelier, were watching through the windows and were applauding loudly. When the pair entered the restaurant, the maître d' said "We need an encore."
Simon simply looked confused, but Robin grabbed him and kissed him again.
Simon blushed and said "So did you miss me?"
They all laughed; Robin's response was to kiss him again. That brought another applause from the staff.
Within an hour, Simon had cleared the restaurant of all diners and staff, flipped off all of the lights, and grabbed Robin and headed out the service entrance. Making sure everything was locked and secure, Simon said "Yours or mine?"
Standing in the anteroom of Simon's tiny third-floor apartment, watching the waves crashing in from the Pacific, they renewed their attempt at kissing, and found several ways to improve the original. Slowly undressing each other, soon enough they were on the bed, naked, hard, excited, and entwined in each other's arms and legs.
Robin had spent the past three years as the boy toy for Diego, and was begrudgingly accustomed to being a bottom, used in almost every conceivable position as long as it afforded Diego the chance to penetrate Robin's ass. Consequently, Robin naturally rolled to the side and made his ass available to Simon, assuming he was going to get the large, hard South African cock in his ass soon enough.
Simon was surprised by that action but did not question it; he was a versatile lover, and fucked as well as he enjoyed being fucked, and took this opportunity to plunge into Robin for the first time. Shoving his nine inches to the hilt inside of Robin's beautiful ass, he slowly built up a rhythm that had both of them moaning and gasping and cumming within minutes.
Spent, breathless, Robin rolled to one side and lay flat, and searched for Simon's hand, which he grasped. They were silent for a long time; Robin wondered if Simon had fallen asleep, but was assured his partner was awake when Simon moved to kiss Robin once more.
Simon muttered "You are fucking phenomenal."
"Humph; and you were fucking amazing."
"Ready for round two?"
"Of course; and this time I want to ride that pony."
Simon asked "Are you sure? I can take it if you want."
Robin replied "There is time enough for that. On your back so I can mount you."
And with not much grace, Simon was lying on his back and holding his cock upright for Robin to take and slide into his hole; this time the fucking was longer, and seemed more like making love, and was genuinely enjoyable for both.
Robin never slept well in a strange bed; awakening at approximately 2 AM, he quickly showered and dressed and exited. He finally slept, in his own bed, until nearly 9 AM, after which he made a vat of coffee and reached for his cell phone.
"I hope you will forgive my exit, but I wanted to let you rest. By the way, did you find the Christmas gift?"
"Yes, and you are forgiven; thanks for the flowers, and the bracelet is beautiful, what type of wood is this?"
"It is Koa wood, from, Hawaii. I want to take you there some day."
"And another thing," Simon continued, were you not comfortable in my bed?"
"Your bed is fine, it is just that I find it better to sleep in my own bed. When I am out of town on business, for example, I never really rest in the hotels."
"Ah. I guess I was just being paranoid."
"Don't be," Robin said, "it had nothing to do with you, it was just me. We can work that out. Anyway, you are a phenomenal lover, and I enjoyed every inch of you."
"You mean my cock?"
"Yes, and the six feet of the rest of you as well."
"Well, thanks, and you by the way are a wonderful lover as well. We might need a little more practice, though."
"I think you are correct, we probably need a lot more practice."
Simon asked "So just for future reference, are you a bottom?"
Robin replied "I am a confirmed and well-practiced versatile," and spelled out the sad story of his last very sexually selfish lover, Diego. "I don't even remember if he ever sucked my cock" Robin admitted.
Simon was saddened by that and vowed in his heart to make Robin as happy as possible, sexually as well as emotionally.
"By the way," Robin continued, "You said the restaurant is closed on Christmas Day. If you do not have dinner plans, would you like to come here and have dinner with me and my neighbors, Stuart and Raj?"
"I think that would be lovely; I usually go to Peter and Mario's place, but they are having a small family gathering with nephew Sam and cousin Paul. What time do you want me? Can I bring anything?"
"I want you right now" Robin laughed. "But no, everything is here that I need for the dinner, including the wine. How about 4 PM for cocktails and gossip, and dinner at 6 PM?"
"Lovely" breathed Simon; he was already dancing around his room, mentally gearing up for the double-date Christmas dinner. He had to shower and dress and get to the restaurant to open and prep for the onslaught of dinner parties for today but was looking forward to Robin's dinner in two more days.
Stuart and Raj were a few minutes early on Christmas afternoon for the dinner party, and eager to ask Robin a dozen questions; he made them wait until cocktail hour when Simon would be there to share their enthusiasm and gossip.
Simon was exactly on time, a virtue which Robin appreciated; west coast graduate school students seemed to have no knowledge of clocks or schedules or punctuality. When everyone was seated with a cocktail of choice in hand: (Robin=Boulevardier; Simon=Manhattan; Stuart=Cosmopolitan; Raj=club soda) the gossip began and all four began at once.
Stuart stood and rapped his glass and said, "OK, one at a time, Raj, you go first."
"Have you fucked?"
Stuart gasped, but Robin and Simon both laughed, and stared at each other and Simon finally responded, chuckling, "Yes, but it did not go very well so we have decided we need a lot more practice."
Both he and Robin laughed, and taking a large gulp of his cocktail, Robin said "He is infinitely better than He-who-cannot-be-named so I am looking forward to the practice."
Everyone was laughing again, and then seated, Stuart said "Well, now that is settled, we have a lot more questions. When is the wedding, where is the honeymoon, who is invited, etc?"
"Whoa, cowboy, way too fast" Simon chuckled, and taking Robin's hand said "I just barely found the only man who checks all of my boxes, so let's not get ahead of ourselves. Give us a minute to get to know each other. I do not even know his favorite color or his favorite ice cream."
Robin joined in, "And I do not even know if Simon can eat my cooking, or if we have to order out all of the time."
After another half hour of banter, gossip about grad school faculty and administrators and students and law firm clients and crazy demanding restaurant customers, and deep gossip about family and friends, Robin announced dinner was ready and they traipsed to the dining table at the far end of the great room. The noise and chatter settled down as they admired and enjoyed the short ribs, and finally the buttermilk pie and snifters of cognac.
Returning to the sofa, Robin volunteered, "It is not fair of me to bring it up, kind of maybe a tiny bit premature, but I was thinking of some place tropical to take Simon, I'm not sure yet, Tahiti, Coast Rica, something like that."
Simon was quiet for a moment; he finally responded "You know since I just had your cooking for the first time, why don't we stay here and just eat a lot and drink a lot?"
Stuart and Raj laughed, and Robin was merely smiling and staring at his new lover.
Without another word, Robin stood and excused himself. While his three guests were gazing at each other quizzically, Robin returned with three wrapped gifts. He handed each one a box, and then invited them to open them.
For Stuart, a boxed set of Armani Aqua di Gio toiletries, for Raj a silver bracelet, for Simon a pair of airline tickets for Vancouver, BC. Each was startled and surprised; many thanks and gratitude were expressed, as Robin volunteered to refill the cognac.
"And happy holidays to each of us, I am so grateful to have such good friends and neighbors, and you, especially," he motioned toward Simon with his snifter.
Simon stood and embraced him, and they kissed, with Stuart and Raj applauding.
It was 10 PM when the neighbors excused themselves, and Robin kissed Simon once more. "Can you stay?" Robin asked.
"Definitely; I'm so glad you asked."
Robin led him to the master bedroom after switching off the lights and securing the doors; he took a long moment undressing Simon, and when his lovely Boer cock was freed from his Calvin Klein's, he took only a moment to gaze at it and then engulf the semi-hard nine inches with his tongue and mouth, savoring his scent and his taste.
Robin did not consider himself the best cock sucker on the coast, but he was certainly competitive. Nine inches is a lot of cock to swallow; Robin was able to take all nine once or twice, but concentrated on the head and the glans.
When he tasted Simon's pre-cum, he was satisfied that his new lover was almost ready. He pushed Simon's legs to turn him around, and indicating that Simon should lean over the end of the bed, Robin spread his cheeks and dove into the twitching pink asshole and begun licking with gusto. Simon was moaning loudly, and Robin took that as a signal to plunge inside of his ass with his tongue, and then a pair of fingers. After a minute or two of fingering him, Robin pulled Simon up by his hips, and they kissed some more before Simon volunteered to kneel on the edge of the bed with his ass facing Robin.
Having retrieved his small bottle of Swiss Navy, Robin lubed up Simon's hole, and then his own throbbing cock; other than the twice-weekly J/O sessions, Robin's cock had not had any action in three years. He slowly placed the tip of his helmet against the hole, and pushed carefully into the South African; when Simon's moans signaled to him that he could advance, he managed to slide all of his seven inches into him, taking his time, and enjoying the magnificent sensation of skin against skin.
The heat, the friction, the lube, the rhythm, the desire, the moaning of his partner, all were the symphony Robin had been waiting for the three years he had been a sexual slave to Diego, and within a few minutes, much sooner than he desired, he was pounding his cum into the eager ass of Simon, holding his hips while unloading his needs and desires and passions.
Sex is one of those crazy, wonderful, weird and magical aspects of a relationship which can enhance and build or destroy every relationship. For his three years with Diego, Robin was never in control, he was subjugated to being just a hole, a cum dump, for the Guatemala refugee. Robin's sexual desires and preferences had never been discussed; when Diego wanted to cum, which was at least four times a week, Diego shoved his cock into Robin and came, usually without any romance or prelude.
With Simon, all of those terrible memories were swept away; here was a man, truly a man who could be both gentle and demanding and romantic and urgent and passionate and careful, and always curious about his lover's needs. Robin had a tear in the corner of his eye when contemplating these facts.
Simon rolled on to the bed and lying on his side, was cuddled at his back by Robin; "OK?" he asked Robin.
Chuckling, Robin murmured "Mhhm."
They fell asleep in that position; waking a couple of hours later, Simon gently nudged Robin and asked him if he was ready for round two.
It was 3 AM when they showered and fell back into bed; it cannot be said they were satiated, because on Boxing Day as Simon called it, after a gallon of coffee and some Danish which he had brought from the restaurant, they were back in bed, flip-fucking until early afternoon.
During all of those calisthenics, Simon remembered the remark Robin had made about not being sucked by Diego, and managed to pull a sizable amount of cum from Robin's very nice cock into his gut. Reminiscing on each of those moments, each of those fucks and each of those 69's and each of those rimmings, Robin was smiling broadly as they lay on the pair of lounges on the patio over the pool.
"What?" Simon asked.
"Oh, just thinking about what a joy it was to open my Christmas gift."
Simon frowned: "What Christmas gift?"
"You." Simon stretched and stood and placed a huge kiss on Robin. "Have we practiced enough?"
"Hell no. This might take another year or two."
Simon kissed him again; he looked at his Rolex.
"Do you need to go?"
"Not until tomorrow morning; the staff has everything taken care of for today. Just appetizers and cocktails and wine today, no dinners. We open again tomorrow for the regular season menu."
"OK, so, we have some time then."
Simon frowned: "For?"
"Talk, and fucking, and drinking, and surfing, and fucking, and those million questions I have for you."
Still frowning, Simon asked, "Questions?"
"Sure, like what is your favorite color, what is your favorite ice cream, where do you want to travel, when is your birthday, how do you want to celebrate our anniversary, you know, the usual mundane stuff."
"My favorite color is your eyes; my favorite ice cream is spumoni; my birthday is July 1st; I want to fuck our way through our anniversary (and by the way, when is that?)"
"It's whenever we choose it to be: the first day we met, or the first date, or the first fuck, or whatever."
"I choose the first fuck."
"Spoken like a true queer."
"Guilty."
And somewhere between perhaps fucks number 13 and 14, as they both laughed, Simon appeared to get quiet and serious for a moment. "I want you to know something, of course there is nothing I can do about Diego, all of that history is in the past, but please know I promise that I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy and trying to make you forget all of that crap."
Simon kissed Robin, and they lay together for a few minutes.
"So what are we?" Robin asked.
"I have a few ideas, but I have never been in a relationship that lasted more than a weekend, so you will have to guide me."
"I don't think it requires a title, you know like the junior high school Boyfriend stuff or whatever, carving our initials in the tree, but I think for just now, we should just spend time enjoying each other, spending time with each other, as much as we can, and let it develop naturally. I think the worst that can happen is for us to declare some sort of territorial ownership, which can quickly wreck a relationship if or when one of us steps over some imaginary line that upsets the other."
"Robin, you are very wise, and I am glad you can articulate the things that I have been thinking, but I also think that, judging from having watched my parents and grandparents, that we need to be as open and honest with each other as we can. We need to communicate, in other words."
"Simon, exactly. And so, let me acquaint you with my life and my schedule. I teach grad school courses and I am therefore tied up at least four days a week, and usually late one night each week, depending on the semester schedule. I am almost always available on weekends, with an occasional faculty retreat or symposium or conference thrown in. I have an academic conference coming up in May in Istanbul, and I usually go to Madison to visit my sister in June. Aside from that, I am pretty free."
"No other family?" Simon asked.
"No, only one sister, my father passed away when I was in college, and my mother passed away about five years ago. You?"
Simon replied "I was an only child; my parents divorced while I was in the Army, and both of my grandparents are dead; my parents are all over the globe depending on their whims, but usually in opposite hemispheres."
Robin chuckled. "So in the event of some special occasion, they are able to see us given enough lead time?"
Simon had a hunch he knew where this was heading, and said "Of course."
Raj leaned over the fence and said "Getting some sun?"
"Sure; are you ready for another cocktail hour?"
"We would love to have you come over here and join us this evening, if you wish" he responded. Both Robin and Simon agreed; they wandered inside to get dressed, and taking a couple of bottles of wine with them, went next door to ring the bell.
Stuart answered the door in the nude. "Oh," he said, and laughed; "Raj said you were sunning in the nude and so we thought,,,"
Robin and Simon both laughed, and Robin said "We are excellent neighbors, and appreciate you in every way, but not sure we are up to that as yet."
"Raj" he called down the hallway, and skipped away to throw on a pair of linen lounge pants and a T-shirt. Robin and Simon made themselves comfortable on the sofa in the living room, and were soon joined by their hosts.
Robin decided to break the ice and asked "Since I am the newest member of the Malibu Boys Club, please fill me in on the history. Let's start with that beautiful house which Peter and Mario occupy."
Stuart began the long history of the beach house which was built by his uncle, the late Mason Taylor, and included a little about Mason's background. He related how Mason and Mario had met and became partners and married, and how devastated Mario was after the death of his husband.
Peter came into the story in a casual way, Stuart related, and then he explained how all of the others belonged to the Boys Club: Paul Campbell, Peter's cousin, and Paul's husband, David Branson.
Sam Stephenson, Peter's nephew, and Sam's husband, Mickey Clarke, who had been a PA and then a law partner for Mario. Joaquin, who had been the husband of Mason's best friend and former lover, Ross James, and after the death of Ross had gone to Spain and met his new husband, Felipe Marquez.
Terry Baylor, the son of one of the founding partners of Mario's law firm, and his husband; Tad Carlyle, a surfer who had lived in an apartment across the street from Mason, and had come out under Mason's tutelage, and met his husband and business partner, Mike Williams.
Then there was Carlos Rivera, a refugee from Venezuela, who was originally a client of Mario's law firm, and lived in the beach house with Mason and Mario for several years while he went to college, before meeting and marrying his husband, Chris Martin, the gay son of the current vice president.
"And tell us how you and Raj met and came together" Robin asked.
Raj took over the story. "I was working as the chief of staff for the mayor of Los Angeles, now the vice president of the United States, Chris Martin's father, and I had been asked by the mayor to draft Mason Taylor as the chair of a research and advisory panel for the city council. After several brief meetings with Mason, he asked me and my sister Aneth, the chair of the Economics Department at Santa Monica City College, to come to the beach house to get better acquainted, and in that moment, when Stuart walked into the room, I knew instantly why the Hindu gods had sent me to California."
"Wow, I did not know that part" Simon offered. "I just assumed you two guys had been together forever, probably from law school or something."
"Actually, Stuart is the lawyer, my degree is in industrial engineering from India, and I later received a master's degree in Organizational Behavior here at USC."
Robin interjected "OB is very close to the area I research and write about and teach at grad school; you will have to come and be a guest speaker for one of my night classes next semester."
"That would be an honor. And you should also have Stuart come and speak about the politics which we both have mingled in."
"I'm blushing" Stuart said.
"Practical experience is really important, and I hope both of you would be willing to share how instructive and helpful your experiences have been. It would be an honor for me to have you visit my classes."
After several more cocktails, Robin and Simon excused themselves; walking home Robin asked if Simon was hungry.
"If there is more cock on the menu, then I am starving."
"Of course; and maybe pizza?"
"You always say just the right things, don't you?"
In the kitchen, Robin grabbed the take-out menu from Paisano's Pizza, and ordered a margherita pizza, and since the delivery would be at least 45 minutes, they dashed into the master bedroom, ripping clothes off while sprinting. Robin threw himself on the bed on his back and spread his legs, and Simon licked his asshole to get it good and wet and then mounted Robin, cock first, plunging in all the way to his balls.
They had just finished cleaning up when the doorbell rang; Robin volunteered to answer the door, and grabbed his wallet to hand a $10 tip to the driver. Seated at the bar in the galley, they slowly enjoyed the Paisano special, and when about half of the pizza remained, Simon took Robin's hand and guided him back to the bedroom.
He made Robin sit at the edge of the bed, and kneeling in front of him, took his cock in his mouth and slowly enjoyed all seven inches, pushing Robin back flat on the bed and shoving two fingers into his hole. When it was obvious Robin was edging, Simon straddled his cock and placed his own hole over it, and took it in all at once. He rode that pony for most of the next quarter hour, until Robin announced his climax: "Jeezus Mary and Joseph" was all Robin could say, catching his breath.
Three fucks later, Simon was showering in the ensuite bathroom in the master bedroom, and Robin was making coffee in the kitchen; "I hate to leave you" Simon said, wandering into the kitchen while toweling his hair.
"Well, I will see you at the party on New Year's Eve, correct?"
"Yes, and then can you stay at my place that night?"
"I would love to, and I will try to stay all night, not like last time."
"I was wondering about that. Whatever, we will cope."
They had coffee quietly, kissed, and Simon stepped out into the wan grey California winter.