Page 37 of Resilience on Canvas

He half expected Robert to tell him that he could take off his shirt his own self, but instead, Robert only nodded.

Henry popped the first button, revealing a few curls of dark chest hair.

Henry’s trembling hands kept working the buttons while his eyes remained fixed on the coarse-looking brown coils, more and more of them coming into view with each inch of Robert’s chest that was freed.

God, he wanted to run his fingers through it.

Staring, Henry’s breathing became slightly ragged, lurid fantasies running through his mind.

Oh, how he wanted to kiss Robert’s chest, to bury his face in Robert’s chest hair, to feel it tickle his nose and chin and cheeks.

When Henry reached the middle of Robert’s stomach, he paused to pull the ends of Robert’s shirt from his pants, untucking it.

Heart still hammering, Henry returned his focus to the buttons once the rest of Robert’s shirt was free.

And after Henry had unfastened enough of the buttons to reveal Robert’s stomach—the taut muscles that were covered in even more beautiful hair—his knees became weak, those lovely, filthy fantasies fading into a haze as the blood left his face.

Lightheaded, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on Robert’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said. “Need a minute.”

Henry felt Robert push his fingers through Henry’s hair. “Take yer time, little wolf.”

After inhaling and exhaling a few breaths to steady himself—concentrating on the feel of Robert’s fingers becoming entangled in his locks—Henry lowered his hands to Robert’s belt buckle.

And he unfastened it .

Henry sucked on his bottom lip, his breath catching from the sound of the buckle’s metallic clinking, which, Lord Almighty, was probably the most obscene sound Henry had ever heard in his life.

After managing to unfasten the two buttons on Robert’s pants, his fingers found the first of the two tiny buttons on Robert’s blue-and-white-striped boxer shorts.

“Goodness,” Henry said, his voice shaking. “Look at them stripes.”

Robert huffed a barely-there laugh. “Geez, Hen, if you think those are interesting...”

Henry smiled to himself, Robert’s teasing sending his heart a-flutter.

He tried to laugh, but fear was keeping him from it, and the chuckle became strangled in his throat.

Exhaling a shuddered breath, Henry unfastened the first button and then lifted his head from Robert’s shoulder.

He wasn’t sure if he could keep going. Not while he was still fully clothed himself.

“Want to take my shirt off first? Before I... you know... see what’s, uhm, what’s more interesting than the stripes?” Henry asked.

“Yeah,” Robert replied, his voice cracking. He winced. “Sorry. Yes.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m, uhm, I’m nervous too.” Henry unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt himself and said, “There. I, uhm, I started it for you.”

Robert swallowed hard. He sucked in a long breath.

It shook on the exhale as he reached for the next button.

Henry had to smile a little. All these years, he’d had a very particular picture of Robert in his head—one of a man who was bold and confident and headstrong—and while Robert still was them things, he was so much more than them too.

Henry liked seeing these other parts of him.

Robert’s nervousness was only making him more beautiful .

Henry’s chest warmed, Robert’s obvious unease as he worked the buttons rekindling that small spark of protectiveness in him, the one Henry had first felt on the eve of that huge black blizzard, and with that spark came a fiery courage that had Henry feeling bold.

“I’ll help,” he said, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

He started to unfasten the bottom buttons, working his way up so that they’d meet in the middle.

Once the last of the buttons was undone, he shrugged off his shirt and let it fall to the floor.

Robert placed his hands on Henry’s chest and slowly ran his fingers through Henry’s chest hair, which was both lighter and sparser than Robert’s. Closing his eyes, Henry let out a sigh.

“Can I feel yers too?” he asked, his eyes fluttering open and finding Robert’s chest.

“Of course.” Robert removed his hands from Henry’s chest and shrugged off his shirt. “Just was caught up in... everything.”

Tentatively, Henry touched his fingertips to Robert’s skin, enjoying the way the smattering of coarse curls was making his fingertips tingle. When he flattened his right palm, he could feel Robert’s heart hammering beneath it. He wondered whose was beating faster.

Robert let out a contented hum, and then the two men finally locked eyes. Robert’s beautiful brown eyes were shimmering with so many things—things like fear and lust and excitement—and Henry knew for certain that they were a perfect mirror of his own.

Robert’s hands fell to the waistband of Henry’s pants. Without breaking eye contact, Robert unfastened both the buckle and the buttons. Henry began sucking on his bottom lip, trying not to let himself come undone from hearing those tantalizing sounds.

Gently, Robert reached up and touched Henry’s mouth with his thumb, coaxing his lip back out.

“God, Hen, look at these lips,” he said. “ I need to kiss you.”

Robert leaned in. Henry closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Robert’s soft lips on his own. When they parted—each of them staggering back a step—they both removed their shoes and then kicked off their pants, neither of them saying a word.

Once their pants were off, they stood for what felt like a long while in their underwear—Robert in his boxer shorts and Henry in his briefs, the outlines of their half-hard cocks visible beneath the fabric.

Henry swallowed thickly and said, “Can I see you?”

“Yeah,” Robert replied. “I want to see you, too.”

Simultaneously, they each removed their underwear, and then the only thing they were left wearing was their socks.

Henry’s eyes traveled from Robert’s long white cotton socks up his legs and stopped when he reached Robert’s beautiful cock.

It was perfect. Long and thick. Becoming longer by the second, really, a vein running the entirety of its length.

Above it, there were wonderful curls, brownish-black in color.

Drinking him in, Henry felt his own cock swelling.

It became so erect that his foreskin retracted enough to reveal some of the pink head beneath it.

Henry’s cock wasn’t as thick as Robert’s, but maybe it was a little longer, and the hair on his pubic mound was a couple of shades lighter.

Gosh, he hoped Robert liked the look of him.

Running a hand through his hair, Henry took a shaky step forward.

“Good God, Robert.”

Robert laughed softly. His hands found Henry’s hips.

Henry copied, stroking Robert’s skin with his thumbs.

Robert closed the space between them. Both men shifted their hips forward and their cocks touched, but only barely.

Henry shut his eyes, excitement rolling through him faster than a fierce wind, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, Henry lay his forehead on Robert’s shoulder.

“Look how nice they look together,” Robert said.

Henry opened his eyes to see their hard cocks positioned right next to each other, close enough that they were practically touching. What a sight it was.

“Want to lie on my bed?” Robert asked.

And Henry could only nod.

Before climbing onto the mattress, Robert picked up the blanket and shook it a couple of times over the floor. Henry tried not to notice whether anything had fallen out of it.

“Just, you know, because of the centipedes,” Robert explained, as though Henry needed the explanation.

Henry stammered, “Yeah, I-I know. I live in Guymon too, remember?”

“Right.”

Robert balled up the blanket and set it on the mattress near the foot of the bed. Then he climbed up, and Henry climbed up next to him.

“I hope you won’t mind me leavin’ it over there. It’s warm enough in the room that we probably won’t need it,” Robert said, lying down. “And I want to make sure there’s nothing in the way when we... you know.”

“Smart,” Henry said, settling beside him.

Henry’s cheeks warmed, and Robert was blushing too.

After a moment, Henry laid a hand on Robert’s chest, letting his fingers become tangled in Robert’s chest hair as he caressed his skin.

Gently, he shimmied closer and then leaned in to bury his face in it.

Kissing Robert’s skin, Henry breathed in his scent.

Musky and sweaty and earthy. Sweet Jesus, he wanted more of it. More and more. For forever and ever .

Inhaling deeply, Henry kissed Robert’s chest twice more, savoring the smell.

He let himself rest there for a moment, enjoying the way the little hairs felt on his face.

Robert then let out a sigh, and Henry shifted his hips forward.

When his cock brushed Robert’s thigh, the sensation sent a little blip of what felt like electrical current coursing through him, making his heart thump wildly in his chest.

“God, Robert, I want to . . . to . . .”

He thrust forward once more, massaging his cock on Robert’s leg, and groaned.

Chuckling, Robert cupped Henry’s chin. “Maybe we can kiss some more?” he suggested.

Henry pressed one more kiss to Robert’s chest and then moved up toward his lips, planting more kisses on the way—some on his shoulder and then on his neck and finally on his cheek.

Last, he pressed a firm kiss to Robert’s mouth.

The moment their lips connected, Henry started rolling his hips some more, seeking friction.

Robert placed a hand on Henry’s hips, steadying him, and broke their kiss.

“Wait, Hen...” He moved his hand toward Henry’s cock but then paused and hovered above it. “Can I...?” His eyes flitted back up to Henry’s. “I want to touch you. I want to touch you like Itouch myself sometimes.”

Henry swallowed thickly, only barely managing a nod.

When Robert’s warm hand then curled around Henry’s shaft, Henry let out a whimper. Slowly, Robert started to move his hand, and Henry’s eyes rolled back as he let out a second whimper-moan, louder this time.

“Does that feel okay?” Robert asked.

“Y-yeah,” Henry said through a ragged breath. “Better than my own hand. Way better.”

“Yeah? ”

Robert started pumping his hand faster. Henry squeezed his eyes shut, his leg and stomach muscles tightening, pleasure intensifying. Goodness, Robert Davis was touching him. Robert Davis was... Jesus Christ, Robert Davis was going to make him come .

Embarrassed by how fast he thought he might finish, Henry leaned forward to hide his face in Robert’s neck.

He let himself linger there for a few moments, enjoying the warm heat pooling low in his belly while trying to concentrate on not letting himself finish yet.

But, God , it felt so incredible. Desperate to see Robert’s hand working him, Henry tilted his head forward to look.

Enchanted by what he saw, one more pathetic whimper-moan escaped his lips.

Robert muttered a curse to himself as he shifted forward, massaging his own cock back and forth on the mattress and leaving a wet spot on the sheet.

Even though Henry’s mind was still hazy—swimming from the pleasure he was receiving—seeing Robert’s cock leaking, practically begging for his touch, was enough to make him realize he ought to be pleasuring Robert too.

After a breath, he mustered the courage to take Robert’s weeping cock in his hand.

Somehow, even though he’d touched his own cock plenty of times, he was surprised by the way it felt—the stiffness of the shaft, the smoothness of the skin, the weight of it in his palm.

A wave of pleasure rippled through him, one so strong he thought he might climax on the spot.

Somehow, he managed not to.

Henry began to move his fist, and Robert let out a husky moan. Henry’s stomach tumbled, the knowledge that he had caused Robert to make that noise taking him closer to the precipice of his own release.

He continued stroking Robert’s cock, reveling in all the sounds Robert made, and they exchanged sweet, soft kisses every couple of strokes.

It wasn’t long before Henry felt his balls tightening, the muscles in his thighs starting to tremble.

Before he could tell Robert that he was close to orgasm, he noticed Robert’s toes start to curl.

“Hen...” Robert breathed, bucking into Henry’s fist. “I think I might come.”

Robert’s words sent Henry tumbling over the edge.

Kissing their foreheads together, Henry cried out as his cock started to pulse, warm white liquid shooting out, some onto Robert’s stomach, the rest onto the sheets.

Still shuddering slightly from his orgasm, Henry had to concentrate on continuing to pump his fist, and then Robert came, too, some of his seed mixing with Henry’s on the mattress.

Overwhelmed with some kind of fierce mixture of elation and shock and fondness, Henry captured Robert’s mouth in a long, passionate kiss, so intense that he even knocked their teeth together for the briefest moment. Robert chuckled but then kissed Henry back with the same liveliness.

What felt like hours passed while they kissed like this, completely lost in their post-orgasm bliss, and then, when they were finally exhausted—truly and utterly exhausted—they used Robert’s shirt to clean up the mess they’d made and fell asleep in each other’s arms.