Date: Mon, 31 Dec 2001 19:32:50 +0000 From: Java Biscuit Subject: babying Reuben, chapter five This story involves teen/adult, male/male graphic sex and is not intended for reading by minors. If you are underage, or this type of material is illegal where you live, please stop now, and go read something else! This is a completely fantasized story meant only for the purpose of pleasurable reading. These people don't exist, this world doesn't exist, outside of this story. It is not in any way, shape, or form meant to encourage unsafe, unprotected sex. Apologies for the long hiatus. Feedback to javabiscuit@hotmail.com Babying Reuben ~ chapter five by Biscuit Jean wondered how something that had seemed like such a good idea, only hours before, now had all the earmarks of disaster. In the midst of moving Reuben's things into the cleared space on the third floor, Jean had suggested they go out to dinner, afterwards. Reuben had smiled, kind of tauntingly, and said, "Why don't you take me to Laurent's -- isn't that where you like to go with your friends?" Laurent's. Jean had smiled and nodded. "Good idea, we'll go when we're done." Not good. Really, not. They were hungry and tired and after a quick shower had headed out for the short walk to the bar/restaurant where Jean's friends did, indeed, tend to congregate. His friends who were rabidly curious about the boy he was seeing, and who, he realized now, were likely to scare him to death. "You know," he said, as they walked, "it might be better to get something and take it home. I'm pretty beat, how about you?" He looked at the boy walking beside him. Reuben was dressed warmly, at last. Jean had insisted on buying a decent coat for him. It was a heavy blue wool, long and well lined. Jean felt good every time he looked at him wearing it. A part of him relaxed at the sight of Reuben insulated from the cold, and another part of him enjoyed the way the youngster looked in it. "You don't want your friends to meet me, do you?" Reuben said, and the casual way he'd hit the mark made Jean wince. Am I that transparent? "Do you think I'll embarrass you?" Reuben asked. Jean sighed. On target but off by a mile. Now there would be no question of turning back. "Of course not. I'm afraid they'll embarrass me." He put his hand on Reuben's shoulder, holding onto him the last half block of the walk. The street was full of people, in spite of the cold. It was a bright stretch of bars and restaurants, shops still open for holiday browsers. A neighborhood, Jean lived on the edge of, where the gay community had made a home and the businesses that thrived on it flourished. He guided Reuben into Laurent's ahead of him. He sensed, more than saw, heads turning. Laurent's was intimate; a modest size, with a bar on one side, tables in the middle and booths down the opposite wall. The lighting was also intimate. Soft pools of light from bowled candles and wall sconces. You could see people but only if you looked. Good, he thought, eyes combing the bar quickly, not too many he knew well. And then he saw David. He'd thought that taking a booth would forestall the inevitable, but even as he steered Reuben in that direction, he saw his friend David get up from the bar. "Don't try to hide him, Jean," David said, gliding toward them with his drink in his hand. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, wishing he could somehow sit on both sides of Reuben to keep David from doing what he was doing, sliding into the curved banquette on the other side. David was someone Jean had known since he himself was Reuben's age. He had been Jean's friend and rival for a decade. Every few years they seemed to end up in bed together, briefly convinced it made sense. David's whole body was turned toward Reuben, relaxed back into the black vinyl cushions, but subtly aimed at the boy. Jean thought of insisting that David keep his hands on the table, but that would do nothing to control what he did with his long slender legs. He was tall and sleek, and spent just enough hours at the gym to fine tune his upper body with smooth taut muscle. He was fair-haired, with strong even features, and he considered his blue eyes and smile to be his best assets. Reuben wouldn't have disagreed. "Reuben," Jean said, "this is David. He's been looking forward to meeting you, I'm sure." "Exactly," David laughed. "You're a painter, I gather." "A student," Reuben said, one moment looking down to avoid making eye contact with David and the next wide-eyed, taking him in with an avid curiosity, as if he couldn't get enough of studying his face. Then, Jean saw him blush, and sit back sharply. "Whatever you're doing, stop," Jean said. David looked at Jean with mock innocence, and then his eyes darted to the bar. Thank God, Jean thought, he's here with someone. But David proved to be looking for Daniel, his favorite partner in crime. Daniel had emerged from the men's room and was making a beeline for their table. If David made Jean uneasy, Daniel brought an audible groan to his lips. Usually, he found the youngster amusing, if unsettling. Daniel was a recent convert to game playing, at the edge of boyishness himself, with a new found passion for boys. He was dark and whippet slim, and about the only thing Jean could think of that gave him any comfort, as Daniel approached them, was that he tended to pursue blonds. He and Marcel were friends and Jean was sure he'd heard more than anyone else about Reuben. Daniel scraped a chair up to the table, calling for the waiter. "Could I get another drink here? Should we all be drinking champagne, to celebrate, Jean? Oh my, something else for you, child," Daniel said directly to Reuben. "Maybe Daddy would let you have a sip from his glass while the waiter's not looking." Daniel laughed. "Oh God, I've made him blush already. This is going to be so much fun." "Reuben," Jean said, "this is Daniel. Daniel behave yourself." Not good. Not good, at all, Jean thought. The easy blush was flaming across Reuben's cheek bones and patchy on his neck. He wished he knew if he should touch him. Would it reassure Reuben or send him spiraling into panic? "Don't listen to Daniel," David said. "He's a baby himself, hardly out of diapers, sweetheart." God no, thought Jean. Had he ever said a word to David? He didn't think so, but maybe in the beginning, before it had gotten so serious for him. Could it have been a random shot? It didn't matter, the damage was done. Reuben looked like he'd taken an arrow in the gut and was trying to hide it. "Definitely champagne," said Daniel, turning to flag down the waiter again. He had to do something. Reuben looked like he was going to overturn to the table if he had to, to bolt. Jean's instinctive reaction was to physically restrain him and his body moved. The first touch of Jean's hand made Reuben start like he'd been burnt, but Jean was committed to subduing him. He got an arm around Reuben's shoulders and the other across the front of him, grasping his legs. Jean half twisted in front of him, and half drew him closer, dropping Reuben's head onto the back of the booth and his legs almost into his lap. He made as much of a shield of his body as he could and kissed him so hard he could have bruised him. There was a flash of fresh fear in Reuben's eyes, but he seemed too shocked to struggle. The blind assault of the kiss was becoming less blind, more passionate. Jean was amazed and grateful to feel Reuben's mouth open and the legs he'd trapped relaxing over his knees. He loosened his grip on Reuben's thigh, stroking instead of squeezing. The adrenaline rush that had spurred Jean to grab him, had become a steel bar of arousal in his pants. His heart was still beating hard. He made himself soften his kiss, hearing and feeling Reuben's pulls for breath. "Okay?" he asked him. Reuben's head hung back, over Jean's arm, on the back of the curved vinyl cushion. His face looked surprisingly serene, and Jean realized he was seeing the haze of arousal clouding Reuben's eyes. Incredible, he thought, almost smiling, wondering if there was a way he could keep Reuben calm by keeping him turned on. He'd have laughed if the thought was making him even harder. "Okay," Reuben said. His gaze slid toward David, who Jean noted, was unusually subdued himself. Reuben cleared his throat and lifted his head. Jean sat back a little, letting the boy sit upright, but staying very close beside him. "I think I'd like a coffee," Reuben said, eyes lifting shyly toward Daniel, who was sitting back in his chair with his arms across his chest. "And a smoke, no doubt," Daniel teased, but it was a decidedly gentle nudge and Jean was happy to see Reuben smile. The traces of his blushing had transformed into a lively flush coloring his cheeks that only made him more beautiful. "That would be nice, yes." This will work, Jean thought, watching Reuben accept a cigarette from Daniel, letting him light it without flinching. He'd never seen Reuben smoke and preferred that he didn't, but just then it just struck him as incredibly sexy to see the slim white cylinder in Reuben's ever-roughened fingers, the tiniest flecks of paint that stubbornly persisted in the cracks of his skin, no matter how hard he scrubbed at them. All of Reuben's clothes bore traces of paint. The shirt he was wearing was free, for now. It was new and the white cotton glowed in the candle light. It fit him loosely, as the boy liked, the collar spread under his thick dark curls. Jean watched him take a drag of the cigarette, eyes half closing, lips pursed, and his dick throbbed with a surge of longing. He tore his eyes away from him and met David's cool blue-eyed gaze, studying him. Barest hint of a smile and David shook his head. The danger abated, Daniel and David left them alone to eat and only a few others cruised over to say hello, blessedly briefly. Jean thought he was home free. Reuben was relaxed, enjoying his food, even basking in the attention he was getting from so many men, and a few women. But apparently, David had only retreated, not given up on unsettling things. He'd come back when he saw them getting ready to leave and dropped a bomb. "Reuben," he said, "it's truly been a pleasure to meet you and I would be so grateful if you'd come to a party at my place next week. Don't let Jean keep you away." He'd reached out and brushed at a loose curl on Reuben's shoulder. "You'll love it. Kind of a baby's first christmas party and it wouldn't be complete without you." I'll kill you, thought Jean. Slowly. "We'll be busy," he said, putting a protective arm around Reuben. "Don't be difficult, Jean. You can't hide your life from him forever." Very, very slowly. "Are you done now, David?" "God, you're so paranoid, Jean. I'm trying to make him feel welcome." To Reuben, in a soft, more intimate voice, "I am glad we've met, and believe me, we're a harmless bunch of players. We miss him." He nodded toward the bar, and the friends of Jean's Reuben had met that night. "Yes, well, thanks," Reuben said, with more ease than Jean could have hoped for, pulling the collar of his coat up. "Nice to meet you, too." ------------------- Reuben wanted to be home. He was tired, he was confused, and he was aroused. It felt like his dick hadn't been soft for hours. Since the shower before they'd even gone out. He'd been disappointed that Jean didn't shower with him, but philosophic. If he did, he'd thought, we wouldn't get out of here. But washing in the bathroom that now wasn't just Jean's but his own, had given him a hardon that never really subsided completely. At the bar, even with his nerves flaring, the edge of desire had sharpened. And when he'd panicked, it had sent as much blood to his dick as his heart. He thought he could have come if Jean's hand had inched to the inside of his thigh, when he'd kissed him. The kiss dwarfed everything else. As Reuben walked beside Jean, toward home -- our home, he thought with a shudder of pleasure -- he was replaying the moment. Dying, he'd been dying, with the echo of David's words deafening him. Then like magic, like his life was a video on pause, or an old fashioned record with the needle lifted, Jean had stopped the world and saved him. What did it matter if Jean's friends knew how they had sex? What mattered was that Jean was unashamed. Reuben had never felt more loved. It was like having Jean announce to his friends that he, Reuben, was more important, more cherished, more desired, than anything else in the world. Fuck you, David, he thought, smiling, as he remembered the man's attempt to feel his leg under the table. He knew the guy was baiting him, testing him. Him and that other one, Daniel. Fuck you both, he thought. You and your fucking baby's first christmas! But he wondered, would it be like that kiss, to have Jean make love to him in front of them? He was relieved to see they were almost home. The recessed doorway beside the shop, that he'd never really noticed until he discovered it was the entryway to the apartment. Now he stepped up onto the stone stair and fished his key out of his pocket. He felt Jean's hands on his shoulders and hoped that his lover would stop him before they ever got up the stairs. I'll stop him, Reuben thought, getting a few steps ahead of Jean and turning around; taller than he was, up two of the carpeted stairs. His pulse quickening, he took hold of Jean's collar. It was hard to form a kiss, Reuben was smiling so hard, but when he felt Jean's hands inside of his coa, gloved fingers tightening around his waist and moving down and around to his ass, Reuben's smile melted in lust. He was hard as steel, but his insides felt liquid. He stumbled down a step to get in reach of rubbing his cock against Jean, trying to feel something through the man's coat. "Baby," Jean said, squeezing his ass in his still gloved hands. "Don't you want to go upstairs?" "No," Reuben moaned. He did not want to go upstairs. He wanted Jean to throw him down on the steps and fuck him right there. He wormed his hand down, tearing at the buttons on the coat that was blocking his way, and got his hand on Jean's body, his firm stomach, feeling his way down to hard cock filling the crotch of his jeans. This, he thought, is what I want. Now. And he rubbed the length of it feeling rich, feeling a gloating pleasure that this was for him. "Fuck me right here," he said and felt Jean's erection surge in his hand. "Don't make me wait, Jean." He was working at the snap of the jeans and got it open, he'd have attacked the zipper next but Jean stopped him. No! "Take your coat off," Jean said, and Reuben obeyed, watching Jean pull off his gloves and open his pants. Then Reuben stood, clutching his coat in his hands, eyes glued to Jean's naked prick emerging from all of its cloth coverings. Oh my God, he thought, he's going to do it. "Your pants," Jean said and Reuben realized he'd frozen up, staring at him. He dropped his coat on the stairs and Jean was already reaching for him, undoing his fly, easing open the line of buttons that were stretched tight across his hardon. "Oh God, yes," Reuben said aloud, free of his jeans, feeling Jean's warm broad hands moving up his bare thighs. It was almost too good, to kiss, to feel Jean's naked erection stroking his own, to stop and do anything else. But he wanted him inside him and Jean was fucking his mouth with his tongue as his long finger, slippery with spit, slid into Reuben's ass. Reuben braced himself, his knees feeling the first sting of rug burn, his head on his forearm, his other hand clutching the edge of a higher step; frustrated because his pants were trapping his ankles together, but unwilling to stop and do anything about it. He couldn't. Not now. Not with Jean's tongue sliding over his asshole, making him shiver and his muscles clutch. Not with Jean holding his ass cheeks wide open and the tip of his tongue forcing into his hole. Reuben's dick was dripping, he could see it down the shadowed plane of his stomach, a long silver thread hanging from the shiny head all the way down to the carpet. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his excitement as Jean's tongue thrust deep like a wet velvet cock. ---------------- If he wants it on the stairs, he'll have it, Jean decided instantly. His own impulse was to get to a soft surface with access to pillows, towels, lube and everything else that made for luxurious fucking. But, if Reuben wanted it, he was getting it. Jean was so intensely relieved to have survived Laurent's and so grateful that Reuben wanted him, anywhere, after David's parting volley, that he said nothing to discourage him -- though he was afraid that Reuben would be regretting it when his knees and ass were hurting later. It wouldn't last long, he knew. The sight of Reuben on his hands and knees, whimpering to be fucked; Jean hoped he lasted long enough to get all the way inside him. He was bowed over Reuben, sweating, praying he'd last. Even with his eyes closed he could still see him in his mind as he fucked him, hear him, feel his soft hair brushing against his chin as his cock begged to unload in the tight hot sheath. "Touch yourself for me," Jean told him, he couldn't reach him, himself. He didn't know if Reuben managed to do it or not, but the boy exploded under him and Jean thanked God, letting go, relief making him weak even as he pounded the last hard spurting strokes into him.