Page 38 of Resilience on Canvas

Chapter Twenty

Robert

In the morning, Robert awoke tangled up in Henry’s embrace.

After pressing a kiss to Henry’s forehead, he reclosed his heavy-lidded eyes and let himself teeter on the edge of sleep for some time, cherishing the feel of Henry clinging to him.

When the urge to relieve himself finally became too much, he slipped out of bed to take a leak.

He returned to find Henry still sleeping and climbed into bed next to him.

Robert kissed Henry’s plump, barely parted lips, and the sensation caused Henry to stir.

“Robert?” Henry said, his voice thick and slow. “How’re you up so early?”

Chuckling, Robert whispered, “It’s eleven.”

Henry hummed and opened his eyes, the corners of his mouth curling into a small smile. Robert smiled back. Damn, Henry was handsome. Handsome and sweet and lovely.

Robert’s stomach tumbled, his heart stuttering, and those feelings of want and mine slammed into him, making his breath catch.

Robert lunged forward, crushing Henry’s mouth with his.

Against his thigh, he felt Henry’s cock starting to stiffen.

Even though the newness of everything gave Robert pause, his yearning for intimacy was strong enough for him to overcome every bit of hesitation.

Gently, he touched Henry’s cock with his fingertips, and Henry hummed into Robert’s mouth.

God, how Robert needed to make Henry Sherwood come.

“Tell me that yer mine, Hen,” he rasped between kisses, wrapping his hand around Henry’s long shaft. “Please.”

“Always.” Henry buried his face in the crook of Robert’s neck, and Robert started to pump his fist. “Always yers.”

Only a few pumps later, Henry started to tremble, his breathing becoming ragged. Robert moved his hand faster, barely even noticing his own erection, for the only thing that mattered in that moment was taking care of his little wolf.

“Mine,” Robert whispered, his hand moving fast. “Always.”

With a low moan, Henry started to come, his cock pulsing in Robert’s hand and spilling warm ejaculate over his fist.

Before Robert could even clean the mess, Henry climbed on top of him.

He began kissing Robert with a wonderful ferocity, one that made Robert’s cock throb for release.

Heart hammering, Robert took his own cock in his wet hand.

He let out a throaty moan as the warmth of Henry’s orgasm coated his shaft with his first stroke.

Almost immediately, Henry’s hand was on top of his, silently requesting that he take over.

Robert let his hand fall to the mattress.

The two continued to kiss while Henry worked him, and soon, Robert felt that familiar tingling sensation prickling at the base of his spine.

It rippled upward and outward, and the rumbles of pleasure made him cry out as he came.

Robert was still lost in his orgasm when Henry nuzzled his cheek and said, “Goodness, Robert, what was that?”

Robert took some breaths to clear the fog cloaking his mind.

“I needed you,” he finally said with a sigh. “God, Hen, I couldn’t help myself. I needed to make you mine.”

Henry settled beside him. Robert pawed the mattress to search for a shirt they could use to clean up.

After he found one, he cleaned off his stomach and then wiped his and Henry’s hands.

Throwing the shirt on the floor, Robert turned to face Henry.

Henry started to stroke Robert’s cheek with the back of his hand.

Christ, that felt almost as good as Henry stroking his cock.

He liked Henry so much. He liked this so much.

And in only a month or so, they’d have this every morning, waking up next to each other as they started a brand new future together in California.

“You know, I’ve been yers, Robert,” Henry said, his fingers still moving slowly on Robert’s cheek. “Even before you wanted me to be.”

Smirking, Robert crooked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve liked you ever since my family moved here.”

Henry found Robert’s hand. Clasping them together, Henry raised them both up. He released Robert’s hand and started playing with Robert’s fingers, shaking them back and forth a little and squeezing the tips.

“That’s why I was so, uhm, excited yesterday, I think,” Henry said. “I’ve been imaginin’ what it would be like to kiss you for forever. For forever and then some, really.”

Henry pressed a kiss to the tip of Robert’s index finger, and Robert’s chest swelled with fondness.

“Did you used to think of me sometimes, too, then? When you touched yerself?” he asked.

“Only you,” Henry said before planting one more kiss on Robert’s finger.

And then, Henry took the tip of Robert’s finger in his mouth and sucked.

As warmth of Henry’s mouth enveloped him, Robert let out a shuddered breath, strange and filthy thoughts flashing in his mind.

Robert wanted Henry to kiss every part of him.

Every part. Would Henry ever want to try something like that?

Robert’s stomach tumbled from the thought. Was that something other men liked?

Softly, Robert said, “I started thinkin’ of you lately, too.

Only the last few weeks or so. Before that I couldn’t let myself think of nobody.

Or, I tried not to. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever meet someone like me.

It was easier to try not to picture no one specific when I.

.. you know... when I touched myself like that.

I tried to keep the focus on the feel of it, you know? Not fantasies or nothin’.”

Henry frowned, his brows knitting together. “I’m sorry, Robert.”

“Don’t be,” Robert said. He pressed his lips to Henry’s fingertips. “Because now I have you to think of.”

Henry’s cheeks became tinged with the loveliest shade of pink.

“Well, maybe we won’t be touching ourselves no more now that we can touch each other instead. Because this has been...” He blew out a breath. “Goodness.”

“Goodness is right,” Robert said, leaning in close. He rubbed his nose on Henry’s chin, relishing the feel of the short blond stubble scratching his skin. “Do you think we’ll be touchin’ each other every night when we’re in California?”

“Maybe every mornin’, too,” Henry said with a happy hum, but when Robert pulled back, Henry’s small, wistful-looking smile faltered. “Or... uhm...”

“What is it?”

“Will we really be livin’ together? I mean, I would have to tell my folks I can’t stay with them no more. Not that they’d want me to now. But Clara... what, uhm, what’ll she think?”

“Oh.” Robert’s stomach tightened. Would Henry be upset that Robert had been honest with his sister? “Clara knows now.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “She knows that we—”

“Yeah, I-I told her. After my pop passed. Actually, she kind of guessed that we liked each other in a romantic sort of way.” Robert squeezed Henry’s hand. “I’m sorry, Hen. I promise she won’t be mean or nothin’.”

Henry’s face pinched, and he recoiled a little. Before Robert could say something to reassure him that Clara was supportive of the two of them, Henry let go of Robert’s hand and rolled onto his back, covering his face with his palms.

“Oh, Robert, I think you might hate me, but I have to tell you somethin’.”

Robert’s muscles tensed. “What is it?”

“I told Clara I liked you weeks ago. I swear I never said that you liked me back, but maybe that’s how she figured everything out. Gosh, I feel so bad.”

Tension easing, Robert sat up on his elbow and tried to pry Henry’s hands off of his face.

“Don’t worry.” He kissed Henry’s soft lips. “I ain’t mad.”

But Henry’s forehead stayed creased with worry.

“I sort of told Rose and Joe, too,” Henry said. “I even told them what happened with the, uhm, the marmalade?”

Robert snorted. “Jesus, Hen, will you be runnin’ a story in the paper next?”

“I know, I know!” Henry groaned. “But they’re my friends.” Henry’s voice became tight as he eked out another two words, like maybe he was on the verge of crying. “I’m sorry.”

Affection unfurled in Robert’s chest. He ran a hand through Henry’s hair.

“I’m teasin’ you, dummy. It makes sense that you’d want to tell yer friends.

Not that I’d know. I’ve been a mean bastard for so long, nobody else in Guymon has the courage to talk to me, other than to buy my pitiful little vegetable hauls once a week or so.

” He kissed Henry’s cheek. “Except for you, Hen. You were brave enough to have a little crush on me, even when I wanted to kill you for not marryin’ my sister.

” Henry laughed softly, and Robert continued to kiss and nuzzle him.

“I know that you probably can’t see it yet, but you, little wolf, are the bravest son of a bitch in Guymon. ”

“Robert,” Henry said through a laugh. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“It’s the truth. And I swear to you, I will make you believe it someday.”

“Sure,” Henry said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Robert rolled his eyes. Even though he kind of wanted to keep arguing his point, it was nearly lunchtime.

Him and Henry needed to eat something and then head over to retrieve Robert’s family from the Sherwoods.

Which probably meant that they wouldn’t be having no more sleepovers for a while. Son of a bitch.

Letting out a sigh, Robert flopped backward on the bed.

“Dammit, I can’t believe we won’t sleep next to each other again for a while.”

Henry turned his head toward him. “Why won’t we?”

“Don’t you still want to travel with yer parents on the train? Ain’t they still payin’ for yer ticket? We can’t be... flauntin’ none of this in front of them. Not if you want yer parents to pay for some of the train fare.”

“Dang.” Henry frowned. “I wonder if they’ll even still pay for me now that I kind of hinted what we were to each other.”

“Guess we’ll need to factor in the cost of yer ticket, too, then, with the total of what we’ll need to make it to the coast.”

Henry rolled onto his side and kissed Robert’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Robert.”