Date: Mon, 31 Dec 2001 19:32:50 +0000
From: Java Biscuit <javabiscuit@hotmail.com>
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.