Chapter Text
Ziggy had taken to the goblin-woman instantly and had started calling her Rosie within a heartbeat. A worrying sign in Robbie’s opinion. Then again, he was biased.
Another worrying sign was the twitch in his mother’s right eye, which was miniscule, and you’d easily miss it, if you hadn’t been subjected to it for eighteen years straight as a foreboder of getting your ass handed to you on a platter. She’d never raised a hand, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t flay you raw by words alone.
Her green eyes bore down on him. “Care to explain this?” She pointed towards the patio outside facing the backyard. Her subtly engraved bracelets jingled out of the sleeve of her lavender dress shirt with the motion at the two other surprise guests, partly obscured by thin sheer curtains in immaculate condition. Just like everything else in her home.
Sportacus and Ziggy were waiting outside, entertaining themselves by playing with the pack of dogs while Robbie spoke with his mother. Well, Ziggy was, Sportacus was carefully hedging the canines, unsure of what to do with the massive number surrounding them. It was… A peculiar image. He couldn’t help the upward turn of his lips at the sight. Robbie had expected the overly friendly and excited elf to dive headfirst into the, literal, dogpile.
“You’re welcome to visit anytime you want, dear. But, if you’re bringing company, I would prefer if you called ahead. It’s known as manners.”
Yes, manners. He had them. Not inherited from her though. “When did you hear anything from your group of friends lately, or the 'community'?” Robbie said instead. Might as well start at that end, in order to explain this fine mess he’d just clambered out of by the skin of his teeth.
She tilted her head. “Nothing out of the ordinary, preparations for a minor gathering, not much else,” Rosalina peered apprehensively as she spoke, “why? What does this have to do with you popping in,” eyes travelling up and down his form, “looking like you’ve been in a tumble?”
If she meant the devil’s tumble dryer, then yes, he looked like it. “One of your dear friends tried to have me killed.” His mother’s hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock and he added, “oh, and steal your stuff.”
That had her lower the hand and she inquired in a frosty tone, “who?” Who was it that had dared to cross her.
“Dunno. Audi, I think she was called.” He gesticulated with his hand. “About yea high, Indonesian… I think? Obsessed with peacocks, does that ring any bells?”
“Audi is a car brand, dear. You mean Ibu Aidi.” The information sank in. “That bitch!” she spat, making Robbie gape in surprise at the profanity. “I gave her my support, and this is how the ugly shrew pays me back?” Her manicured nails dug into the dress shirt as she crossed her arms and paced, spitting other more vulgar words of abuse directed towards the treacherous hag.
Somehow, his older sibling’s colourful vocabulary was starting to make sense. Well, it was never too late to learn something new about your near and dear ones.
She stopped by the patio windows, taking a deep shaky breath through her nose and let it out, looking past the sheer material of the curtains at Sportacus. “And what about the elf then? What’s one of the huldu doing here?”
“He has a permit.”
She snorted, “ah, one of their heroes, I should have figured from the large blatant number on his back,” as if that was explanation enough. The woman pursed her red lips and shifted her gaze towards the heap of dogs licking and playing with the boy. “What’s the matter with the human child? He looks sort of…” She made a wavy gesture of her own and looked back at him. She must’ve caught on to Ziggy’s dazed state when they had walked the short stretch up to the estate building.
And that’s how Robbie came to retell, a somewhat edited… A very edited, version of the past few nerve-racking days, careful not to mention anything too personal. It was, more or less, a quick heavily censored summary; that the courts had been in cahoots, the greedy hag, that Ziggy had been under the mound, the new deal that Oberon had undergoing, and so on, “-your ex bestie hid a redcap in the court, Oberon found out and he wasn’t happy. At all.” He finished, “how could you not know what was going on, on your own doorstep?”.
“Believe me, I had no idea,” Rosalina murmured. She seemed calm and taking the news in stride. Her tone grew cold. “I’m going to have to make a few house calls. I do not appreciate being kept in the dark…” She was lost in thought, a slight crease in her forehead, until she continued, “and you, darling? Are you alright?”
About that. He cleared his throat, there was still one more thing he hadn’t told her. The icing on this disaster cake. “So, uh yes, but, I’m kinda, uhm,” he forced out the words quickly before he chickened out, “now also declared courtless as well.”
Her face blanched, making her red lipstick stand out more so in contrast to her already pale skin, and oh, that twitch was back. “You did what?!” she cried out and balled her fists. The temperature in the room did a funny thing, making him feel like he was freezing over and scorched at the same time, this hadn’t happened since his father was still alive.
“H, hey now,” his hands flew up and he took a few steps backs, “remember that part where I told you I saved your property? That’s pretty big, right? You can’t be mad at me for being a good son?”
She groaned in frustration and looked up at the ceiling, trying to convey divine revelation from the chandelier. “Whatever did I do, to deserve sons like these?” she lamented.
Should he start in numeral, or in alphabetical order?
“Do you have any idea what you have done to my name?” her hands flew to her chest then outwards. “Our name?!”
“You and Glanni, not I,” he pointed out. The head of the family had always complained over Robbie’s choice to change his surname. Bet she wasn’t so sorry over that now.
“I thought you were smarter than this, Robbie!”
“Well, in that case.” He stuck one hand within his west and presented to her the knife he had pocketed earlier. “I’m sure you don’t want this then?”
The temperature in the room stopped being on the fritz the very same moment as her eyes were drawn to the intricate handle, taken aback by the token. The carved green jade made little to no doubt of who its previous owner had been. Her gaze flicking up to him then back down at the offered knife. Tentatively, she took it in her own hands, twisting it and scrutinizing the craftsmanship.
She unsheathed the knife to inspect the blade, careful not to come in direct physical contact with the otherworldly metal. With a snap she sheathed it again and met his eyes with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Where did you get this?”
“Consider it dowry of a dead woman.” Dead, or worse.
“Pity. I would have liked to exchange words with her.”
He was sure she did.
“The elf and that poor human child are welcome to stay.” She snapped her fingers and the blade disappeared, probably to the rest of her collection of antiques, or whatever riches she’d come over. “Don’t make a habit out of this, Robbie, I have enough sorrow brought onto me by your brother.”
Robbie couldn’t argue with that really. Glanni could talk the talk, but sure as hell not walk the walk. A sharp tongue did not mean that you had a keen mind. Which brought to his mind. Glanni had been as twitchy as could possibly be after the statue…
“And stop making faces at me.” Rosalina brought him out of his musings.
He rubbed his nose to hide his tic. “I can’t help it, I’ve told you.”
She huffed, it was a perpetual argument between them, one out of many other, before she schooled her features, smoothed back and down her dark hair in loose curls. “Well, then. I believe I should invite my guests in. At least the elf is handsome. Sportacus, you said his name was?”
‘He’s off limits!’ was what he managed to stop himself from squeaking out, that didn’t however stop him from making a strangled panicky noise and visibly lurch by her side.
She gave him a teasing smile.
Oh, he had walked right into that one. Well played, mother, well played.
Rosalina drew back the curtains and opened the double doors to address the duo outside, her voice shrill and over the top friendly.
They were related alright. Switching between private to public masks in seconds.
He wasn’t sure what to make of Robbie’s mother. The woman appeared disarming enough, looking like an unsuspicious human high-end lady, but, her eyes had a calculated gleam to them that put him on edge.
She had a temper that matched her son’s, that was for sure.
“You did what?!” he heard her cry out from inside the large manor at Robbie. Sportacus was sure that it wasn’t his imagination that the window panes shook at the outburst.
“Why are Robbie and aunt Rosie fighting?” Ziggy asked from under the pile of the many dogs that Ms. Glæpur owned.
Aunt? He eyed the round face peeking out from a sea of fur, He’d taken to her more than he’d thought.
Where should Sportacus begin explaining? Half of it didn’t concern even him, and most certainly not a human child. “I think, it’s because he didn’t warn her of our visit,” he said and bent down to scratch one of the bigger canines behind their ears, some sort of retriever, he wasn’t sure, the chocolate brown pelt threw him for a loop. Ziggy nodded and dove back with a giggle.
The muffled arguing softened somewhat behind the closed doors, he could pick up the sound of Robbie’s baritone voice, however he couldn’t make out the words. Some sort of mediation perhaps?
A wet sensation on the back of his hand had him jerk in surprise, becoming aware that he’d unwittingly tried to listen in on what was going on inside the building. He looked down to the dog staring back at him with its big amber eyes, pushing its nose in under his hand instead, demanding him to continue with his ministrations. He laughed softly at the display and did so, soon he too was surrounded.
A short while after the angry voices had quieted down, they returned. Their hostess was beaming and smiling like she hadn’t just been in a screaming match. She put her hands together and cheerfully declared, “my dear Robbie has explained your predicament.” Robbie came into view behind her, not quite looking as blasé as his mother did. Cooing, she carried on, “Ziggy, your parents must be so worried about you, let’s call them and let them know you’re spending the night.”
Sportacus glanced up at the other man. ‘The night?’, he tried to convey by his face alone.
Robbie only gave a one shouldered shrug and pulled a face of his own.
The child crawled out from under the pile and put his hand in the woman’s, as she led them all inside. “Stay,” she commanded the dogs behind them. None of the canines followed and stopped just outside of the threshold. It was somewhat unsettling.
Stepping inside the immaculate household of spotless soft-hued interior design, Ms. Glæpur spoke again. “I have only one rule in this household,” she informed them, “no running.” She lifted a finger at him especially.
Why wasn’t he surprised?
Much later, after a long phone call with multiple reassurances and a heavy weight off his shoulders, Ms. Glæpur stated with a finely sculpted brow arched, “they gave him the good stuff,” while idly stroking, what Sportacus first had mistaken for a sentient wig and then had been pointed out for him, a Pekingese in her lap as they watched Ziggy pick at his plate. “I had to bring out the cake I had prepared for the reception this weekend.” She added dryly, “good luck trying to readjust him into human society.”
They were sitting in what their hostess referred to as The Green Room, overlooking the field of the backyard through large picture windows. They had entered it to find the glass table decked with cakes, as well as other food stuff more befitting of Sportacus’ diet. Ziggy had refused everything that he had been offered, until Rosalina with a long-outdrawn sigh had snapped her fingers and procured a rich chocolate cake.
Stiff as a board and equally awkward towards each other, Sportacus and Robbie shared a worried look from each of their far ends of the white pristine sofa in the mint green salon. So far, the few blatant symptoms of Poic Sidhe had been the child’s blind fondness towards the goblin-woman with a somewhat dreamy look on his face and his sweet tooth out ruling Robbie’s. Only time would tell now.
Oblivious to the adults’ concerns regarding his future mental wellbeing, he beamed up at their hostess. “That was almost as good as the cake I had earlier, aunt Rosie. Thank you.” His eyes shifted between Robbie and the woman before he blurted out, “are you sure you’re Robbie’s mom? You’re really pretty,” with a big smile, the lower part of his face covered in icing. Sportacus tried not to snicker at that, ending up jostling the retriever, that had found its way back to him, resting at his feet.
“Aww, aren’t you the sweetest?” Rosalina smiled and pinched his sticky cheek, “I could just eat you up,” she grinned.
“Mother, no,” Robbie protested listlessly.
Sportacus wasn’t sure if they were truly joking.
She turned to him. “I hope the fruit salad was to your satisfaction?”
“Thank you, it was perfect, Ms. G-” She got him with an icy stare. “Rosalina,” he changed mid-sentence.
Robbie snorted.
He cast a glance over the other end of the sofa. The man stuck out like a sore thumb in this setting. So far, he hadn’t seen anything that reflected Robbie’s own personality. Robbie was boisterous and, most of all, passionate. This manor was not his home. Too clean, too cool and toned down. Even the restroom had been too immaculate for a normal household. He had a hard time trying to picture Robbie growing up in this kind of surrounding.
“Oh, looks like someone needs to be tucked in for the night,” she sighed, and the motherly façade was back in place.
Sportacus looked at Ziggy and concluded that the small child was indeed starting to nod off, his eyes blinking blearily until his head tilted down to his chest. That was unusually fast, he noted. It wasn’t even past seven.
So did Robbie. “What did you put in the cake?” he inquired from his corner.
The woman didn’t answer him, no more than a wry smile as she sipped on a diet soda.
Overstepping another dog lying at his feet, they seemed to appear randomly and eerily silent throughout the household, Sportacus carefully picked Ziggy up. The boy was out cold, but seemingly unharmed, he hoped. He felt unsure if he could fully trust that his crystal would warn him of any harm, not after today. Robbie rose to leave the room as well with him.
“It’s nice with children, when they behave. Which reminds me,” she droned and put down her can. “I want a grandchild,” she looked up to her son humourlessly.
Robbie squawked and froze in his steps. “What, no? Ask Glanni. You know, the oldest?”
“Really? Glanni?” She levelled him with a stare, the toy dog in her lap managed somehow to mirror the judging look.
Sportacus should probably leave the room as fast as he could. Preferable now.
“Eugh, fair point. I’ll think about it.”
“Robbie.”
“I said, I’ll think about it,” he ended the awkward argument, ushering Sportacus out of the salon and kicked the doors shut behind them.
“Ueargh!” Robbie dragged one hand down over his face. “I’m sorry about that. Parents, what you gonna do about them?” he joked, laughing weakly.
Sportacus hummed and adjusted his grip on Ziggy, not sure how to respond to the uncomfortable situation, or the first words that Robbie had addressed to him directly since they’d arrived.
Robbie pushed off the closed doors and walked briskly by him. “C’mon, I’ll show you where his room is.”
Sportacus followed silently behind.
This uncharacteristic behaviour did not go unnoticed. After leading them to the great entrance and up the manor stairs, Robbie stopped mid-step and looked down at him. “Are you okay?” His expression unreadable.
He frowned slightly at the question. “That’s the third time I’ve been asked that.”
“Funny that... I can relate. It’s like people don’t believe you, or something.” He continued upwards again. “So, how are you?”
He couldn’t explain the uneasy feeling in his chest that he’d been carrying around for days now. Physically he was in top shape, he was almost restless, but, his mind was still trying to catch up with everything that had taken place. “I don’t really know… I feel worn thin? My head does anyway.”
“I get that feeling.” He led them along to the end of the upper corridor, framed by several doors on one side and the bannister overlooking the great entrance on the other. “It’s been one hell of a day… Also, thank you. For, you know… Uhm,” Robbie struggled with whatever he was going to say. “Saving me and all.”
Sportacus spluttered and his gait stumbled. He’d been about as helpful as a concrete parachute. “I wasn’t there for you when you met the redcap.” He refrained from shouting that out when he remembered his sleeping load. He hadn’t been there when he was needed, not for Robbie, and he’d done nothing helpful to get Ziggy back either, Sportacus thought while he was led to the end and into a bedroom.
“No, but the Mikumwesuk were. All in Oberon’s master plan, no doubt,” Robbie said sardonically at the king’s name while he stood leaning against the doorframe behind them, watching Sportacus tuck the sleeping human in.
That would explain the groups’ familiarity with the man.
Ignoring the feeling of the other’s eyes resting on him, he looked the boy over. “What did she give him?” He stroked the bangs out of the child’s face and adjusted the duvet.
“She probably gave him the same concoction that she gave me and Glanni whenever we became too much, and the nanny wasn’t close at hand,” the deep voice said from behind him. “Believe me, nothing short of the house falling down on us will wake him for the next couple of hours. I’m actually jealous.”
He looked back at him. “That’s horrible, Robbie.” There were other words for it. Unethical, dangerous, and many, many more.
Robbie just shrugged in indifference. “She’s better with dogs. And by that, I mean the trainers she has for them. Children are trickier… I want a grandchild,” he mimicked her comment and grimaced. “No, she wants an heir. If she could, she’d leave it all to the dogs. Some people turn into crazy cat ladies, she decided to become a crazy dog lady. Minus the dog hair that tends to find their way in everywhere.”
Sportacus didn’t know that much about dogs, seeing as how he’d never had one or grown up amongst any. The rules on ownership were strict in Iceland. “How so?” How many dogs would one require to be seen as crazy? And he voiced so as they exited the room.
Robbie rubbed his chin at the question before he spoke. “You want to find out why you’re not allowed to run in the house?” There was a mischievous spark in his eyes.
Sportacus looked up questioning at the taller man. “How’s that related to dogs?”
“Go ahead. Run to the far end of the corridor and back here and see what happens.”
“I’ll set off some sort of trap, won’t I?” It wouldn’t be the first time. If Robbie suggested anything that involved physical activity, then it had to be something nefarious.
“No,” Robbie grinned, “even better. It’s not dangerous. Just highly annoying for my mother,” he ensured him.
Sportacus looked to the end of the corridor and back to the smiling man. “Okay?”
He got about halfway down when the chorus of barking began and the sound of paws thundering towards him from all directions, and he turned back to Robbie, who opened another door and gestured for Sportacus to follow.
The dogs barked and tumbled after like a tidal wave of fur and wagging tails. “No running in the house!” Rosalina bellowed after them from the lower floor. Robbie shut the door behind them, ending up with excited howling and scratching on the other side, along with muffled angry commands for the dogs to stop.
“That’s for bringing up grandchildren,” Robbie laughed, unwittingly trapping Sportacus between himself and the door.
He understood now why there was a ban in place. “That’s… A lot of dogs.” Sportacus thought that he’d already seen all of Ms. Glæpur’s canine companions. He’d, evidently, been mistaken. Also, he felt guilty for tricking them, they were just excited. This house didn’t seem to be much fun for them either.
“Yes,” Robbie replied, “rumour has it, that every time Glanni messes up something big, he gets her another dog as a peace offering.”
“Really?”
Robbie made a noncommittal sound. “Honestly, I’m afraid to ask either of them.”
The noise ceased, and it was once again only the two of them.
Sportacus became aware of just how close they were. Not for the first time, could he feel the warmth of the other’s presence.
“I think the coast is clear, maybe, you could show me my room?” He assumed that the invitation for Ziggy to sleep over extended to him as well.
Robbie rolled his eyes at him. “This is your designated room, Sportadope.”
He looked to see that it was a new guestroom. “Oh.”
Another moment of silence.
He cleared his throat. “So, what does your mother get when you mess up?”
“Cold Iron,” was the monotone answer.
“What?!”
Robbie hushed him and finally stepped away to give Sportacus his space back. “I gave her a blade of Cold Iron I nabbed from the court, as a gift and apology for sullying her rep. Also, I wanted to get rid of the thing. Two birds.”
“You stole from the court?”
“Naeh, from the crazy trying to have me killed. Nice to have that off my shoulders,” he said flippantly and jostled said shoulders.
Uncertainly, Sportacus made way towards the centre of the room to look it over, keeping the other man in his peripheral vision, aware that Robbie was watching him in turn and it wasn’t just his imagination, before he sat down on the queen sized bed to face him fully again. Robbie’s behaviour since they’d arrived made no sense. He was… Too friendly, considering that they still hadn’t addressed the events that had taken place between them. So far, they had been oddly civil. And, well, Sportacus was waiting for Robbie to start up again with his verbal assault, on how Sportacus had broken some one-sided rule of good versus bad, any second now that they were alone again.
“About earlier…” Sportacus started.
He didn’t get to say more before Robbie spoke over him. “You said you liked me?”
Straight to the point then. “Yes,” he confirmed, although not sure if Robbie had understood the extent of how much, and in what way, he did so.
Robbie’s mouth tugged at the corners. “You like me.” A statement.
Sportacus nodded. The small upturn of the corner of the man’s mouth turned into a smile, and then a wolf’s grin that sent chills down his spine, and not all of them unpleasant.
“That’ll make things easier,” he advanced as he spoke, “because it seems, I’m not completely done with handing out compensations.”
Tilting his head upwards as the other approached, mystified at the behaviour, he asked, “what do you mean?”
He was by no means ready for when Robbie pushed him down on his back and climbed on top of the bed. This was, by far, the complete opposite of what he’d thought would’ve happened. Robbie’s low laughter rumbled against his chest with how close they were when he’d toppled Sportacus over and laid securely on top of him. “I mean this.” One hand dragged slowly up his side, sneaking in under his vest. Sportacus’ abdominal muscles tightened at the intimate contact.
His own hands found themselves gently placed on the man’s sides. “Robbie?” he exhaled, staring up at the man, feeling like he’d missed some important key moment that had led him into this compromising position.
The other man chuckled from above him and he ducked down close. “Consider this me showing my gratitude and paying you back,” his breath ghosted over his mouth.
Sportacus froze up.
Paying him back?!
Showing him his gratitude by paying him in natura was definitely not what he wanted!
He pushed Robbie off himself, rougher than he’d meant to and the man fell off the bed with a crash.
The rejected man took the reaction surprisingly well. “A simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed,” he stated casually, bouncing right up and dusting himself off before Sportacus had even gotten his own bearings back.
“Robbie-”
“No, no, it’s okay.” He raised a hand and strode towards the entrance. “I misunderstood, a simple mistake. Let’s forget this and move on. Goodnight,” he said far too cheerily and closed the door behind him. Leaving Sportacus sitting by the edge of the bed, feeling very confused of what just had transpired.
That… had been an act. This, and not the part before, when Robbie pushed him onto the bed. That part had been genuine! He groaned and got back up on his feet.
Of all the miscommunications, or rather complete lack of communications, they could’ve had. Sportacus needed to make this right somehow.
He didn’t find Robbie, instead he found their hostess curled up on a couch in one of the drawing rooms, reading a magazine.
“M… Rosalina, do you know where Robbie is?”
She didn’t look at him as she answered him cryptically, “he’s so much like his father, you know. Too many feelings than he knows what to do with.”
“Please.”
“He’s in the pavilion. Follow the stone path leading down the front garden and you won’t miss it. It’s impossible to not see that eye sore.”
“Thank you.”
“And no running!” she called after him.
The moment he was outside the building he began running down the stone path leading into the front garden. Finding the round pavilion was as she had said, impossible to miss. He’d spotted it the moment he passed a large flower shrub and there it was. It was so, so Robbie.
Once upon a time, he was sure it had been a homey little rotunda…
And then Robbie had happened to it.
It looked like the industrial revolution had grown out of the side of the pavilion, with big cog wheels, chimneys and what not, for what purpose eluded him. A warm glow shone from inside the colonial window panes and he could make out the dancing shadows of someone being in there.
The last stretch was hedged with signs hammered into the ground. The first one read in big black letters ‘Keep out!’ The penmanship was crude, one of a child’s, and a painted angry skull. The other signs read the same, some of them specifically referred towards Glanni and ‘Icky siblings stay away!’ He couldn’t help but smile at it all. This must have been Robbie’s grounded version of a play house. The one piece of the estate that reflected Robbie. The closer he came to the pavilion he could hear a muffled ranting.
“Idiot, you just had to jump to conclusions. Of course he didn’t mean it like that.”
Robbie?
“You had to push it didn’t you. Ugh, I should become a hermit and never show my face again, but wait I am already one! Nice going there! Moron, moron, moron…”
He couldn’t let the self-deprecating rant go on and he tapped on the wooden frame of the door, and opened it.
Robbie froze up and ogled him like a deer caught in the headlights from his position on the floor. He was sitting with his back against the bench edging the inside of the structure, clutching a throwing pillow wedged in by drawn knees against his chest. A quick survey concluded that there was a whole lot of pillows in there. Apart for the furthest end of the pavilion that had various scattered industrial knick-knacks, it looked like the bedroom department of a store had passed through the small round building, leaving a disaster of pillows, cushions and quilts in its wake.
“Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but stepped in without an invitation. The floor was soft and gave way under his weight.
The reaction was instant. “Can’t you read the signs? There are several of them. I would’ve thought that even someone as muscles for brains like you could read big bold letters.”
He made the short distance to the upset man and sank down. “Please, stop,” he rasped and sat on his knees opposite of the man. Some kind of tool was digging into his shinbone, but he tried to ignore it and focus solely on the man staring at him.
“Huh?”
“The name-calling, the petty insults,” he clarified. “I’m tired of them. I was hoping that you were too.”
“Oh,” Robbie murmured and looked away.
“You understand?”
“Yup… Sticks and stones. But, words…”
“They hurt too.”
“Yeah. Whoever said they don’t, is lying.”
They were on the same page regarding that at least. “What happened in there?”
“I have no idea what you are referring to.” Robbie looked at anything, but Sportacus.
He waited.
Robbie finally figured that there was no way around the subject and gave up with a forlorn sigh. “I misunderstood and made a fool out of myself. When you said that you liked me, I assumed that you meant that you liked me… You know, like that.”
“I do, Robbie. I do like you like that.” Robbie had understood the way Sportacus had meant it, and yet they had managed to botch it up. But, that was why he was here now, wasn’t it? To try to un-botch it. If Robbie would allow him to.
He gaped. “B, but, then, then why did you-?”
“You were angry at me and didn’t want anything to do with me,” Sportacus pointed out, “and then, suddenly you implied that you were going to repay me, with sex? What was I supposed to think?”
“I was trying to lighten the mood. It was a joke!”
“Sorry, but, your jokes suck,” he disputed.
Robbie sighed, “I suppose so,” and hid his face in the pillow. He mumbled something into the fabric.
“Sorry, what?”
“I said,” he looked back up at him, “I don’t understand. I am mean, you know; rude insults, calling you names and trying to drive you out of town by force. Why would you…?” His words dwindled out.
“Do you still want to get rid of me?”
“…No.” He nosed the pillow and kneaded his hands into it.
“I’m not a mind reader,” he stated, “you need to talk to me, tell me your intentions. I was convinced that you hated me and suddenly you didn’t?”
Robbie had drawn his shoulders all the way up to his ears and it looked like he would tear the pillow into pieces any second.
Since the other didn’t reply, he continued. “I do like you and… And enough that I’ve put up with the verbal abuse, but, I can’t keep doing that. I don’t think either of us can. I just… May I take this?” He took a hold of the throwing pillow, Robbie’s last physical barrier between them. Robbie pouted at the loss as Sportacus threw it over his shoulder and sat closer instead. Silently grateful of getting rid of whatever that had dug into his leg. “I wish that you would let me in.”
“What do you mean? You clomped inside here already,” he said in confusion and his brow twitched.
Trying to speak softly, he explained, “you keep everyone away and I don’t understand why. All this hiding, the personas you take on.” He pressed his lips together in a firm line before he continued, “your regular outfit is among your disguises for a reason, isn’t it?” He chanced to place his hand on one of the updrawn knees. “Please, let me in,” he begged under his breath.
The man didn’t answer him for a long while and with each second ticking by his heart sank. The last time Sportacus had broached the subject of his disguises and the reason behind them, Robbie had lashed out in anger. He could only hope that Robbie wouldn’t clam up again and ultimately shut him completely out.
Sportacus kept looking at him, patiently. Robbie couldn’t bear it, what did the man want from him? “I don’t know how,” he finally replied.
The edge of the other’s mouth tugged into a small lopsided smile.
That reaction made no sense. “You won’t like it so much, once you have to put up with this mess.”
“You don’t know that.”
He eyed him warily. If he understood Sportacus right, and that was a big if, then the other man wanted something more. A relationship. Those never ended well in his experience, in fact, they had a tendency to end before they’d even begun. How ironic would it be, if Robbie unwittingly drove the hero off, by subjecting him to what was the walking disaster that was Robbie himself? The ultimate scheme; fall in love and watch the man run for the hills like everybody else had. A fleeting sexual encounter was harmless in comparison, where he could hide behind the pretence of indifference.
He looked down at the hand still placed upon his knee, following the arm up and met the elf’s eyes.
“What do you want from me?”
“You.”
Robbie tried to make some sense of the short answer. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.”
Sportacus bit his lip with a small smile, ducking his head before he looked up again, looking far too boyish for his mature age, a flush creeping up his collar. “I want you. All of what you are willing to share,” Sportacus added and shuffled closer, letting the hand that had previously rested on Robbie’s knee to now grasp his shoulder, whilst the other came to place fingers gently under his chin. “I want to understand you better and be there with you.” The pressure of the fingers was very distracting, Robbie barely caught the last part. “-Your brilliant mind and the mess you leave behind.”
Robbie shivered. It sounded over the top cheesy, far too inane coming from the man’s lips. And yet, he couldn’t help wishing that it was true.
“I’m going to kiss you,” the other murmured.
He met him halfway, too impatient to wait for those last inches between them. The taste and pure feel of his dry lips was causing flutters in his chest, and dear lord, had he kissed him as planned up in the bedroom, then he was sure he would’ve fallen just as hard as he did now, and all pretence would’ve crumbled away to nothing. He couldn’t fool himself, he wanted Sportacus and should have known that this would happen beforehand.
Sportacus was smiling as he drew back, the fingers that had tipped Robbie’s chin up had moved to cradle the side of his face.
“Well, uhm, this goes without saying, I suppose, but I like you too,” he said, voice cracking to his embarrassment. Sportacus reply was to grin and give him another infuriatingly chaste kiss.
Patience, nor chastity had never been his greatest virtues. Grabbing hold of Sportacus’ shoulders, he got up on his knees and then fell to the side, pulling Sportacus with him and rolled them over until he had him under him.
Sportacus pulled a face and squirmed. Robbie’s heart hiccupped, afraid that he’d somehow misunderstood everything all over again. He was ready to scramble off, an excuse already on the tip of his tongue, when he got pulled back down with one strong arm, while Sportacus’ other searched the quilted floor under his back. With a triumphant noise, he pulled out one of Robbie’s old monkey wrenches from under him.
Oh, okay. That made sense.
Giving the offending tool a disapproving look before he discarded it, Sportacus returned his attention to Robbie. “Come here,” he said softly in his funny accent. Robbie more than happily obliged and kissed him hard and deep.
Sportacus pulled back, discarding his bracers and vest with a quick press and pull by the fastenings in the middle, placing them by his head, still making sure that the crystal’s casing was secured. Robbie didn’t waste time and tugged that infuriating hat off, googles and all, while he was turned away, humming in ill-concealed satisfaction at the rare view. Sportacus gave him an indulgent smile and a raised brow at his antics.
He smiled back while he carded his fingers through the unruly caramel locks before he dipped down again. He tugged a handful and brought them together in an open-mouthed kiss, letting his tongue lick into the man beneath him. Dancing, trying to mimic what he himself liked, and as per order, Sportacus groaned, surging upwards. He found his place between the elf’s thighs, feeling one hand holding him close between his shoulders before it settled in the small of his back as Sportacus answered back in kind.
If he ceased to be this very instance, then that would be alright by him.
Robbie thoroughly enjoyed the sounds he drew out of the other’s mouth and the hitching sigh when he dragged his hands down his sides before he squeezed and massaged the inside of his thighs, back to his butt cheeks to heft his legs over the crook of his arms. Digging his toes into the soft ground under them, he shifted his full weight forward as he pushed and manipulated Sportacus’ tight body however he wanted that’d give him the best advantage. He was more than aware that Sportacus’ other hand had made short work of his belt buckle up by his sternum and dragged the zipper down with an audible noise. Yet, he jolted at the feel of it finding its way inside and palmed at his groin. Still not inside his underwear, but...
Things were moving fast. He pulled up, gasping for air and looked down with bewilderment. “You really want this?” he breathed heavily. “With me?” A silly question, really, but consent and all that, he didn’t want to make the same mistake again.
The look Sportacus gave him was a mix of utter fondness and chagrin in equal measures. “Yes, I want this.” His hand had found its way down his backside inside his dress pants and squeezed his butt at the last word. “And more,” he purred as he rocked against him, making contact with his own hips.
Robbie made a rather credible impersonation of a surprised goose getting strangled. Sportacus laughed and continued his mission on getting inside Robbie’s pants. In turn, he bit down on the side of the elf’s neck. More determined in making the other feel it than leaving a mark. That, he didn’t particularly care of, since the loud groan he got was payment enough. Feeling pressure building and tauten his body. “Can’t just say things like that,” he murmured just beneath the man’s jaw and nipped at the jugular.
“Sure I can.” Sportacus replied and started to peel back Robbie’s layers, in more than one sense.
He had been more than ready to settle for a heavy make out session with groping galore, but damn it all, who was he to deny what was offered him.
“Then get naked” he said. It was both a demand, if they were doing this, if he had understood the implications correctly, but, if Sportacus objected, they could keep it at this.
To his utter delight, that went straight to his crotch, the other man rolled them over to straddle him. Unzipping and wrestling his shirt off, and unbuckled his own belt soon after as well. Robbie in his turn did the same to his vest and shirt, since Sportacus had already undone most of his obstacles, all he had to do was to get his shoes and tight dress pants off. He was about to do so when he was unceremoniously stopped by Sportacus’ sitting up abruptly over him.
His hands travelled around his throat and clavicle, tentatively touching. “Your neck,” he spoke, his voice tinged with worry and small, then said something in a tongue he didn’t understand when he spotted the bruise forming on his abdomen.
Right, the previously concealed marks that had started to mature.
“It’s alright,” he soothed him, using Sportacus’ arms to drag himself up in a sitting position, mindful of Sportacus’ own fading injury.
He didn’t look like he fully believed him.
“If you want,” he tried to bring the mood back, “you can leave your own when they’ve healed.”
“I’m sorry I fai-”
He was having none of it. “I’m here,” Robbie silenced him. “I’m here, and I’m more than fine. Now, please,” he implored as he took the other’s hands in his own and gave him a sloppy kiss. Following the man down as they laid back on top of the quilts and blankets. And finally, finally, getting rid of the rest of their clothes.
Before him laid one hundred percent naked elf. That wanted him. Flaws and all. His eyes met incredibly dark indigo, before they hungrily travelled down.
Robbie swore under his breath at the sight.
A notion of becoming self-conscious over his own less impressive physique tried to make it to the forefront of his mind, but he beat it fervently back to whence it came from.
He took his time to let his hands drag over the abs and ridiculous muscles on display as Sportacus stretched out beneath him with a content sigh. He began mouthing at the man’s chest and downwards. What was the use of that six-pack if you weren’t allowed to make the most of it?
Reluctantly, he allowed himself to be brought back up to his face. He’d barely gotten started, he wanted to taste every inch and find out just what made the elf tick. Any thought of complaining died when Sportacus put his hand on him and began stroking, and he was left to rest his forehead against the man’s and moan. The palm of his hand was dry, a bit too rough, but damn it he couldn’t do much else but to grind into it even more, before he returned the favour making them both move against the other.
And then Sportacus had to breathily say words that he’d never thought he’d hear from the hero; “Fuck me.”
Robbie just stared with wide eyes, gaping in mute shock.
“Too forward?” Sportacus squirmed again, looking unsure.
“You swore,” he eventually managed to sputter out.
He blinked. “That’s what made you stop?” Before he broke out into giggles.
In answer to Sportacus’ question he growled and did his damnest to make the elf’s laughter turn into moans.
Tearing his mouth away from his task between Sportacus’ trembling thighs he mumbled absently to himself, “I’m wondering if the lube I stashed here is still good.”
“Convenient,” Sportacus said somewhere above him on his elbows.
Robbie wasn’t going to raise to the teasing tone. They were both very naked and aroused. Shame had bid adieu and flown out the window ages ago.
It was still good.
Prepping, was slow and Robbie wanted to scream in frustration, at least the view of Sportacus working himself open from where he’d sidled up next to him to embrace the elf made it worth it. He didn’t have any toys, not here at least, to make it more pleasurable for Sportacus. If they were doing this ever again, he could only hope, it was on the top of his list.
For someone pointing out that he wanted clear dialogue from him, he himself wasn’t too vocal on when he was ready or how he wanted Robbie. Seeing as he wordlessly pushed Robbie down on his back with only a sloppy kiss that was more tongue than anything else, as warning and slicked him up before he arranged himself kneeling between Robbie’s legs, forcing Robbie to draw his knees up and spread his legs wide.
Puzzled, it took him a moment to realize the position Sportacus wanted them in, of course the damn hero could never do anything the normal way, but he shouldn’t complain, he most definitely shouldn’t complain when Sportacus twisted his hand and guided him in. The pain of the stretch of his thighs only added to the sensation as Sportacus slowly sank down, enveloping him, tight and hot. Any coherent thought fled his head and he nearly came there on the spot. And then Sportacus started moving, making Robbie grit his teeth and grunt with every rough downturn in a mix of pleasure and pain shooting up his hips and lower back. Sportacus was in total control of the rhythm and force as he fucked him, his brow set in concentration and gasping. However, the pain became too much after a while, overshadowing the bliss, and he begged Sportacus to slow down.
“Did I hurt you?” Worry marring his features, as he let Robbie unfold from his uncomfortable position.
He groaned and rubbed his back, “I’m not flexible enough.”
“Sorry,” he said lowly and replaced Robbie’s hands with his own to massage and ease the tense muscles, kissing him as he did so. “I got a bit carried away.”
Robbie snorted. That was about the last thing Sportacus had been. Someone had problems with letting go with self-control.
Not discouraged however, he gingerly got up and beckoned with his fingers in a ‘come-hither’ gesture to join him on the bench with a lopsided smile. “Wanna try this again?” Any trace of hesitation disappeared and Sportacus straddled his lap, letting Robbie guide his member into him again, this time balancing on his knees on each side of Robbie’s thighs, one hand gripping the frame work of the window behind them and the other ruining Robbie’s hair with carding and scraping his scalp with blunt nails. Yes, this was far better. He groaned his name into his mouth when they began moving again, digging his fingers into Sportacus’ flesh.
Sportacus couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, but the breathy moans as he rode him was like music to his ears. The cool exposed glass against his back between the pillows and the living furnace against his front, along with the raw feeling of the quick rise and fall, made him dizzy. He had to be dreaming, this was actually happening?
“You feel so good,” he near sobbed, blabbing everything that his scrambled brain translated his feelings into. “I’ve wanted you, want you, amazing, too good, too,” gasping, “fhhu, please, please, please!” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. Release, that it would never end, that Sportacus wouldn’t up and leave? All of the above at once?
He must’ve voiced some of it. Sportacus slammed down hard, making both of them shout, accompanied by the noise of creaking next to Robbie’s head when the wood under Sportacus’ grip splintered. His eyes snapped up to meet a too close blur of impossible blue. Awed, aroused and somehow feeling cheated when it dawned on him that Sportacus had still been holding back on him, Robbie let out a deep growl and wound his arms round him. He’d made a request and Robbie would deliver. He thrusted up into him as hard and fast as his waning strength and stamina would allow him.
Sportacus face went slack-jawed and he cried out as he desperately clung onto him instead, keening nonsense of his own into his neck of ‘yes, yes, oh god, Robbie’ and complete high-pitched garble when Robbie got the angle to press against his prostate with every push.
On reconsideration, this was music to his ears.
He’d been close already and he came far too quickly, despite trying to hold back the pressure of the built up. Groaning a curse and screwing his eyes shut in surrender, he let his climax overtake him. Every nerve ending was on fire and for a handful of seconds, he’d never felt so humbled, because here he was, doing this with Sportacus, and at the same time utter, complete exhilaration for the very same reason. Still thrusting until he ran out of strength completely, he felt, as much as he heard, Sportacus cry out against him, somehow having managed to wedge a hand in between them to bring himself over the edge.
Slowly, the world was coming back in bits and pieces. Sportacus was gasping under his chin and he was vaguely aware of the discomfort from strong fingers digging into his shoulders through the warm haze clouding his senses, as well as an insistent digging of the structure into the side of his ribs.
“Wow,” he managed to croak after a while and Sportacus chuckled weakly, slumped against him. They had somehow sloughed to the side, still entangled. He hugged the man and nuzzled his cheek against his own, the stupid moustache scratched against his face, but he kept doing it anyway until Sportacus decided to cup his face in his hands and kiss him. “This is going to hurt tomorrow, huh?” he joked between kisses.
Sportacus, that dufus, only laughed in lieu of a reply and gave him one of those brighter than the sun grins.
He was in for a world of pain then. He combed his fingers through the blond hair from the man’s forehead, before he flicked a pointed ear when Sportacus with a sigh tucked his head back into his neck. “No, no, no, you’re not leaving me with this mess.” They should have worn protection, if anything then for the very least reason of reducing clean up. It would be typical if the elf decided to conk out now. Robbie was supposed to be the lazy one for crying out loud and he wanted to sleep too, if it wasn’t for the elf in his lap and the wooden frame digging into his naked side.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sportacus slurred, warm breath puffing against his skin, “I thought you knew that.”
“You know exactly what I mean.” He couldn’t help the renewed fluttering feeling at Sportacus’ declaration. One problem at the time though, he was not sleeping in this cramped position. “Seriously, I can’t feel my legs. Get off.”
Sportacus peered back at him again, grinning and very much awake. ‘Oh, that little-’
It was before true dawn when Sportacus woke up by the insistent beeping from his crystal.
Feeling chilled in the damp cold, he sat up in the colourless twilight, looking around himself before he located his crystal and shortly after that, the source of its alarm in the form of the shivering figure of his lover. “Robbie?” All that came out was a small whimper past the man’s lips. He was on his side facing away so that Sportacus couldn’t look at his face properly. He saw however, that Robbie had snared his legs into the blanket, and took upon himself the task of untangling him slowly with care, in hope to alleviate his distress, murmuring softly, “I got you, Robbie. It’s me, it’ll be okay,” to him. Carefully placing the blanket over them again, he laid close behind the trembling figure, letting his hand rub circles over his upper back. “It’s alright, Robbie. It’s alright.” Shushing him in a gentle reassuring tone through out it. The dim light becoming slowly brighter as only indication of how much time passed. Slowly, Robbie became less tense and his breathing not as shallow.
Even when the episode appeared to have finally subsided completely, Sportacus was still letting his hand travel up his back, his neck, arm, all while still speaking softly. Trying to give physical comfort without crowding him.
“I’m sorry,” Robbie rasped out after another minute, “I don’t know what happened.” Sagging against his chest and letting Sportacus’ arm rest around his middle. Sportacus could feel the lanky frame relax. He fought the instinct to crush Robbie against him and hold him tight, to shield the man, even if it would be futile.
Sportacus buried his face in the back of his neck instead. “I’d be worried if you hadn’t had a reaction sooner or later.” That came out sounding belittling. He kissed what he could reach in silent apology. “It happens and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Was it a bad dream?”
“No, I woke up and then it felt like I was pushed backwards off a cliff, or, or, hit by a semitruck. And, well…” He jostled his now freed legs in demonstration. Sportacus hunch not to crowd or constrict him had been accurate then. Robbie had probably woken up, felt trapped and then panicked.
Sportacus hummed and continued snuggling him, basking in the body heat in the chill air seeping into the rotunda. Autumn was well underway in this region, and a stray thought, wondering if the heat in LazyTown would’ve finally abated when they’d arrive back, came to mind.
It had only been a day, however, it felt much longer. They’d been through a lot. Especially Robbie. The man made quips about processing emotional trauma, but reality was less jovial than jokes. “How are you feeling now?”
“Exhausted… And angry.”
“Angry?” Losing control over yourself and the feeling of helplessness could be infuriating, but turning it against yourself was not the answer.
As if sensing Sportacus’ thoughts, Robbie continued. “Your crystal went off,” he stated into the twilight.
“It did.” A pause, then Sportacus let out a soft ‘oh’, as it dawned on him what Robbie meant.
The crystal hadn’t worked when Oberon had been in LazyTown, nor when they had been down in the Unseelie Court, and if he didn’t miscalculate, then it should have gone off to warn him four times at the very least, while during there.
Robbie wiggled around to face him and curl so that Sportacus was in his embrace instead. “Damn midget kings and magic.”
Not the words Sportacus would’ve used, but he wholeheartedly agreed.
“I still can’t believe you were going to shoot that thing.”
Neither could Sportacus. He shifted in his grasp enough so that he could speak. “I should’ve known it was a set up. Two competitors and only one target.”
“He’d counted on you to give up… Jeez.”
He frowned and set his mouth in a firm line. He’d nearly ruined it all. If he had fired that arrow, if Robbie hadn’t stopped him from doing something horrible. And then the king’s enigmatic comment afterwards, about what lengths Sportacus was willing to go.
“Shut up. No, nope. Whatever it is, just shut it.”
He blinked in confusion and peered up. “I didn’t say anything?”
“You went from soft and warm to stonework.” He yawned wide. “All you can do is your best, I believe is what you spout to the kids. Now get back here, I’m cold.”
Maybe he should take his own advice. “Okay.” He settled back into the man’s arms. “Try to get some sleep.”
Robbie murmured into his hair, “I hate you.” Robbie tensed up the moment the words had left his mouth. “I mean, I hate how you can fall back to sleep on command, not that I hate you per se, I only meant, argh, I don’t hate you,” he spluttered.
“I know, Robbie.” He hushed him down. Trying not to chuckle and failing, he burrowed deeper. “Just lie with me?”
Robbie made an indignant huff and held him closer.
Sleep didn’t come to him as it usually would’ve. Although, for a long time, he hadn’t shared a bed with someone he cared about in this way either. He was distracted by the breathing pattern of Robbie, the nuzzling into his hair, the barest of caresses of lips against his sensitive ears. It was maddening, making himself actively physical as well. He stroked Robbie’s backside, feeling the outlines of ribs and shoulder blades under his palm before he smoothed out his hand down along the wiry muscles of his lower back, luring a sigh out from the other. In a moment of weakness, he shifted up against him. Inhaling sharply as his growing arousal brushed up against Robbie’s thigh, and, oh, he wasn’t the only one it would seem.
“Ohh, hello there.” Sportacus heard the smarmy smile on the other’s lips. “Here’s a crazy suggestion, but,” Robbie murmured huskily, “how about we postpone the sleeping part for a little while longer?” Fingers played over Sportacus’ spine, dragging downwards his spinal column a few vertebrae at a time, until he came to the base, only to shift to his hip, under the backside of his thigh and pulled him closer to throw the leg over his own hip, resulting in their groins to be flush against each other’s.
Sportacus had surprised himself the previous evening with how quickly he’d, not only had spread his legs for the man, but encouraged it as well.
This time, he wasn’t as surprised. However, on this occasion, he’d allow himself to be a little lazy and let Robbie do as he wished with him. As strange as it sounded, they both needed it.
In the light of the incipient dawn, colours of gold and magenta painted the interior of the rotunda and its inhabitants. He drank in the sight between deep kisses, wanting to mediate the opposite of what Robbie had slipped between ragged breaths last night, that Sportacus was too good for him, begging him not to leave. It had mirrored his own fears, and hearing them from the other made him realise how absurd it really was. He was no paragon and Robbie wasn’t bad to the core. Neither were going anywhere soon.
With a low rumble, grasping Robbie’s head between his hands to bring him into a dirty kiss and grinding against him, he now embraced the possessive sensation with open arms finally. This hobgoblin, this contradictive strange man, brimming with passion and crazy ideas -was his!
No less heated, they took it slower this time, getting more accustomed with the feel of the other, trying to find that muddled line between sex and making love.
He was dying, he was sure of it. Robbie winced as he struggled with the steps up the entrance and wedging the front door open. He could still hear Sportacus’ laughter at his misery echoing out there somewhere. Robbie had woken up after a rather cosy post coital snooze to discover, as he’d anticipated yet was by no means prepared to deal with, that his body had turned against him. If this was only the beginning of a muscle ache, then Robbie wasn’t looking forward to the following days when, according to a very unsympathetic and bemused Sportacus, was when the ache would peak. This right here was one, out of many other reasons, why he didn’t exercise. He didn’t even understand how certain areas of his body could hurt. His stomach and back he got. But, his arms?! What the hell had he done to aggravate them?! Lugged around the elf? Well… Maybe he had a little… The fresh memory of Sportacus crying out in ecstasy made his disgruntled features turn into a smile and a heat coil in his stomach.
The pleasant feeling wasn’t allowed to last for long however. He passed the open doors to the green salon and did a double take at the sight of scuffed Chelsea boots sticking out over the armrest of the white sofa. Pleasant feeling replaced by apprehension, he advanced towards the set. Coming within view, Robbie saw that the table was cluttered with half empty bottles and trash. What a wonderful surprise. Just the other person he wished to see.
“Taken up day drinking, have you?” He peered over the backrest at the disaster of a black clad man lying face down on the sofa. Looking like a sloppy charcoal drawing in contrast to the posh furniture with his excessive use of fake leather.
“Doesn’t count if I never shtopped,” his brother’s inebriated voice slurred from the depths of the cushions.
He pursed his mouth in confusion, trying to decipher the sentence. “How long have you been here?” Robbie hadn’t known that Glanni would be visiting their mother’s estate, or when he’d arrived.
“Hnng, what time is it? Neveh mind. Around nine…Ten… I thingk.”
“Dear lord, that’s it, I’m staging an intervention. You’ve gone too far.” It was baffling that Glanni was capable of coherent speech with the occasional slur.
Glanni kicked out in irritation, not even anywhere near Robbie and not helped either by his constricting faux leather pants, before he with difficulty and sluggish limbs turned around. Someone was zesty. He glared up at Robbie with glassy eyes, his fading makeup a disgrace and having left an art piece on the previously pristine furniture. “I have a legeh, legitimate reason. One of my assshociates fohwarded to me that my brother was dead! Dead!” Robbie was wondering just who that associate might’ve been. “I went straight over here last night to ask mother if it was truh.” He shook his head in a quick jerk and cleared his throat before he continued. “Not, not, not only did I find out that mah baby brother is vereh alive, but he’s balls deep in elf!” He muttered something about never going through the front garden again, but it was hard to make out clearly.
He felt his whole face heat up and his jaw dropped. “Well, I, uh,” he struggled. “What’s that to you anyway!?”
“I’m the wronged parteh here! I’m trying to erase the disgusting… Exposé from mah mind and to calm mah poor nervehs.”
And higher functions too. He grimaced. Hypocrite.
“Sooh,” Glanni carried on, “ere’s your boyfriend?”
“Not my boyfriend.” …Not just yet.
“Uhuh” he hummed sceptically.
Robbie had to ask, “why are you like this?” Glanni tried to kick him again. Having a sloshed Glanni would perhaps work in his favour. If alcohol loosened people’s tongues, then his brother’s should probably spill anything out. He wasn’t above exploiting an opportunity presented. He guessed that’s what he and his brother did have in common after all. “Thank you for ensuring that I’m not the biggest disappointment in the family. I’m courtless, and still am the favourite.”
He sneered in reply, “who died and made you Saint Robbie? And when the hell did you go and end up, urp,” he pulled a face and excused himself behind a hand wiping his mouth, “without your stahtus?”
“I can tell you who died,” Robbie retorted dryly, “Aidi.”
Glanni’s reaction was immediate and he lurched up on his arms. “She’s dead?!”
“Friend of yours, I take it?”
“We’ve… Shpoken.” He swore loudly. “She’s really dead? But, but, how?”
“Apart from total disregard for confidential stuff? She sent a redcap after me. But, you should already know all about that.”
His brother’s bushy brow set in a deep frown at the allegation. Something flickered behind his glassy eyes, a glimmer that he wasn’t that far gone under the influence after all. Sneaky ass.
He decided to go for gold. “What did she promise you?” Crossing his arms and stared him down.
“What?”
“Mother had no idea how this could’ve been going on under her nose. You were the one to start screaming bloody murder when the first attempt happened. After that green clad hag had panicked. Or, did you accidentally egg her on?”
“Did that elf screw your brains out? I have no idea what you’re talking about!” The slur was suspiciously absent now.
“You’re the only one with influence enough and motivation. So, what did she promise you?”
“You’ve gone insane,” Glanni dismissed him and reached out towards the glass table for a tumbler still filled with liquor.
Robbie hadn’t expected things to be easy and braced himself for the further abuse he would be putting his body through. Behind Glanni’s back he tugged a mint green decorative pillow free from one of the armchairs.
He examined the pillow in his hands, testing its weight and density. This would do.
And then proceeded to pummel his idiot brother with it.
“Oww! Hey!” Glanni yelled and tried to shield himself from the onslaught. Ending up falling on his backside on the hard parquet floor. “What the hell, Robbie?!”
“You almost had me killed!” He kept hitting him with it. “What did she promise you? The whole region?”
“She promised me a cut of the new land!” Glanni finally admitted, hiding his head behind raised arms.
Robbie held his upholstery weapon high to let the man speak, threatening to continue if he tried to make an unsavoury move. “And the part that was already mother’s? The one that was supposedly claimed to be invaded?” he inquired.
“I don’t, what?” He blinked up owlishly. “We’d keep it, of course? This was to ensure and expand our property!”
“And you believed her?!”
“She said, that after the split between the courts had been finalized, I’d get a piece of the new land under Unseelie flag,” he looked up over his forearms, “all I had to do was keep it from mother and anyone else snooping around. The less people who knew the truth, the more believable it would be.”
“I got news for you. Everything around here that was under the fakevasion would be hers. You’d lose land.”
“What? No.” Glanni dared to lower his arms completely to stare back in disbelief.
Robbie stared him down in turn, unimpressed and one eyebrow cocked.
“Shit,” Glanni swore under his breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I got played.”
“All that’s missing is if your slept with her.”
“Actually-”
“No, I don’t want to know!” he screamed. Screw intervention. Glanni should be neutered!
He hit him one last time, just for good measure, before he threw the pillow in his brother’s face. Robbie huffed and plopped down on the end of the sofa that was still fairly decontaminated, letting out a pained grunt.
With much ardour and lack of grace, Glanni struggled back up on the seat next to Robbie. Looking worse for wear now after the assault.
“I’m too sober for this bull.”
Robbie snorted. “Have you seen mother around since you got here?”
“Nah. Gone again.”
He nodded. She had said something about making house calls. Just as well. They sat in uncomfortable silence, or, he did, Glanni decided to refill his spilled tumbler. A fine mess this was. Oh well, it was none of his business now anyway. Glanni and Rosalina had a wonderful talk ahead of them once their mother had made her rounds to squeeze the facts out of her contacts, and Robbie planned to be as far away from it as possible. Let his brother with the same business-sense as a belly-up goldfish have his drink. Who knew, it might as well be his last.
Glanni made to bring the glass to his mouth and stopped halfway there, looking out the picture windows. “I think I see your boyfriend,” he stated.
“Still not my- Oh, I see him too.” Robbie forgot his protest when he saw the sight out on the field in the distance.
“I see he made some friends.”
Sportacus was either running with the dogs, or from them. It was hard to tell.
The hero had said something about being in dire need of exercising and Robbie had not paid too much attention after that. Somewhere the man must’ve taken the dogs off the trainers hands, but most likely and as he suspected, the canines must’ve rounded up on the lively elf. The two of them were now privy to a first-row seat of Sportacus running like the devil back and forth the greenery with a pack of hounds at his heels.
He was a little jealous if he was being totally honest with himself. Robbie liked dogs, unfortunately dogs weren’t so keen on him. His Robo-Dog had been created to be aggressive and function as an attack dog, and did therefor not count when it had turned against its creator. Meanwhile real-life canines just seemed to… Prefer other people over him.
Bah! Dogs were too much work anyway. Besides, he had an elf with the same intensity and attitude as a particularly energetic Golden Retriever now.
His eye caught a peculiar detail. “Is that Princess?”
“Yuup,” Glanni concluded.
The Pekinese struggled to keep up with the larger dogs, but what the spoiled toy dog lacked in speed, she made up for in sneakiness. Robbie could respect that. The yippy thing waited behind to intercept the flipping elf on his rebound and Sportacus nearly stepped on her, causing him to make an extra hop into the air. Which ultimately led to his demise when one of the Labradors full on body slammed him mid-air.
The brothers oohed loudly in mock sympathy.
This was better than daytime television, all he needed was a bowl of buttery popcorn and he’d be all set. There was however this nagging feeling that he’d forgotten about something important.
“They say that dogs have the same IQ as a four-year-old human. I don’t know if that means that dogs are clever. Or, if children are dumb as hell,” Glanni mused.
“I’m six years and three months,” a small voice said by them, making Robbie squeak in surprise and Glanni to slosh his drink, biting back a profanity.
“Is that man feeling okay?” A round freckled face peeked up over the armrest.
Ziggy! He had been on his way inside the manor to get Ziggy!
And, ooohh nope, no! No way on this earth that a six-year-old should be subjected to this repugnant display. He was up and out of the sofa in a second to scoop the kid up, biting back a hiss when his sore muscles protested under the weight of the rotund human. A drunken asshole was the last thing the kid needed to see, on top of everything else.
“Hey kid, you want some candy?” Glanni grinned a too wide smile.
“Ooh, yes please!” Ziggy squirmed around in Robbie’s grip as he carried him away.
“No candy from strangers! Didn’t your parents teach you anything?!”
“Aww!” he complained loudly and renewed his wiggling efforts when Robbie toted him away with a detached ‘Tah!’ from Glanni before he slammed the doors shut, getting a sense of déjà vu. “You give out candy all the time when you dress up.”
“That’s not the same thing!”
“Isn’t it?” Sportacus said from the patio doors, looking rosy and a slight glean of moisture clinging to his exposed skin under the hat. He looked… Happy. Such a stark contrast from these past days from hell. “They don’t know it’s you.”
“Sportawitty, take your insufferable child!” ‘Sportawitty? ’ Urgh, old habits were hard to kill.
“My child?”
“Short, blond, can’t stand still for a second. You two have to be related somehow,” he groused.
Sportacus snorted in amusement and made no move to liberate Robbie of his burden, resulting in him having to put Ziggy down on his own and watch the boy roly-poly over to his idol. Sportacus inquired if the kid had slept well, if he’d eaten breakfast. A negative on the latter. His lips thinned in displeasure at the answer and his eyes flicked up to Robbie’s.
If the kid didn’t want to eat, then the kid didn’t want to eat. And anything under this roof would only prolong the human child’s addiction anyway.
Robbie changed the subject to something more enjoyable. “Did you get a good run out there? Sorry, we didn’t have any wolves,” he added in jest, “the dogs seem to like you though.”
“They could do with regular activation.” Sportacus gave a small smile and looked back over his shoulder at the pack dutifully waiting outside, they knew they weren’t allowed in before someone had wiped off the grass and mud. Well-behaved, his mother called them. Brainwashed, Robbie argued.
“Where’s aunt Rosie?” Ziggy asked both adults with him.
“I was wondering the same,” Sportacus joined in.
“Out somewhere,” Robbie informed. “She won’t expect us to still be lingering around when she gets back. Get used to it.”
The kid looked downcast, Sportacus’ face looked more relieved. The elf had some sense of self-preservation. “Oh, I thought it would be rude to leave without thanking her for her hospitality,” he said.
Robbie scratched the back of his head. “Leave a note in one of the rooms, I suppose. Don’t enter the salon though. Glanni’s in there marinating in alcohol and regret.”
“Your brother’s here?”
He hummed in affirmation.
“That stinky man was your brother?” Ziggy piped up beneath them.
“Hard to believe, huh?”
He scrunched up his face. “Not really.”
Robbie’s own face twitched in irritation. Remind him again why they had to save him?
Sportacus outright laughed.
“Ugh! Go write your note with pleasantries at the front entrance and I’ll whisk up something for Dizzy to wear.” Ziggy had donned the full fancy outfit that he’d been given under the mound. If his parents or the other townspeople saw the finery, then questions would be asked. Questions Robbie didn’t feel inclined to answer.
“That’s not my name.”
“Shush, Sigfred Junior.”
If looks could kill, then Robbie would be a smouldering pile of ashes on the ground. Ziggy did not like his real name one bit apparently.
A spare of too big clothes, but in the right colours and easy to adjust, would have to do for now after he’d tore through one of the many wardrobes upstairs and came back down with an armful. To find Ziggy in another heap of dogs.
“Can I keep him?” Ziggy asked while petting a Terrier.
“No, absolutely not. And if you take him then aunt Rosie will be mad.” And that was an understatement. He beckoned the kid over to try on the clothes. “Alright, on my count to three. One -Done!” He spun the boy and shoved the spare material over him. “There you go, oh stop whining, you’re still alive, aren’t you? Now, where is that blue kangaroo? We’re on a schedule,” he spoke quickly and pushed the human child before him towards the grand entrance. The sooner they were out of here the better.
Sportacus was indeed in the grand entrance, just, not where a normal person should be. The hero hopped down from the upper bannister fluidly, cast one glance down at Ziggy’s new attire and leaned in for only Robbie to hear. “Is there a glamour on the clothes?”
“Regular clothes close enough to his regular outfit,” he whispered back. “No one will notice unless they look too closely.”
Sportacus gave him an unreadable look, but nodded. “How are we getting back to LazyTown? It’s a far way from here, wherever here is…” he trailed off.
“The same way we left LazyTown. Your people seriously don’t have paths of their own?”
“We do, but travelling takes the same amount of time as regular travelling. They’re just hidden from human eyes. Besides, I prefer flying.”
“Boring,” he huffed. “C’mon, I don’t want to stay around here.”
He knocked on the door to the salon and shouted that he was leaving, the other side remained silent. Whatever.
An inconspicuous hole in the wall down in the cellar served as an entrance for the faery path leading to the outskirts of LazyTown. Hidden in a side room to where they kept the wine and covered in a thick layer of dust, that made his nose itch and twitch, and not from his regular tic. It said a whole lot about how less frequented this path was.
The sensation of the underground streams that guided the path was familiar and soothing to him. A sensation he suspected Sportacus didn’t share, considering that he wasn’t a magic user as Robbie. Feeling the magic maybe, but not in the same way, judging by the expression dancing over his companion’s face before he stepped over the threshold.
A second later they were looking up on the welcome sign to the town. Ah, yes, home. About time!
Sportacus didn’t waste a second waiting with reuniting the family and soon the whole town was flocking around the Zweet’s residence. Robbie hung back, not wanting to take part in any way whatsoever. Let Sportacus play the hero that they craved and were used to.
“He’s going to be a bit of a fussy eater for a while,” the elf was briefing the ungracious father. “Be patient and it should sort itself out with time.”
Robbie spied on the conversation from a safe distance, but close enough, just in case.
“Where had he gone?” Mr. Zweet inquired over his wife’s shoulder as she held their offspring close, said offspring was complaining from Mrs. Zweet’s bosom in muffled cries. Trixie was sniggering at his struggle, but just as happy as her other friends surrounding them. However, their excited chattering ceased at the question and all looked expectantly up at their hero.
“Ehh,” Sportacus got tongue tied.
Cursing under his breath, Robbie emerged from his cover. Close enough in case this happened. “He ran off with a travelling circus. Anything the noise maker says is a product of his wild imagination and recollections of performances. Good bye, take care.” Robbie tried to tug the town’s hero with him, away from the family. “And for heaven’s sake, teach the kid some common sense!” he shouted. Sportacus bid an awkward good bye, excusing himself for not sticking around with the rag tag gang of kids.
“A circus?” Sportacus spoke up when they’d gotten away from the residence.
“Did you have a better idea?” he snapped. Sportacus tugged him back a step, making him come to a complete halt. Right, the elf only allowed himself to be pulled and pushed around if he felt like humouring Robbie. He looked down, meeting the scrutinizing glare. “Sorry.”
Sportacus hummed and shifted the grip to intertwine their fingers. “Apology accepted.”
They were out in broad daylight where everyone could see, then again, impulse control was for other people and he ducked down to give a quick kiss. The other man wasn’t objecting to the public display of affection.
Sportacus pulled back, looking a little dazed. “You like me,” he said with a growing smile.
“Weird, I know,” Robbie laughed lowly and started their walk again. Not entirely sure where they were heading. In many ways.
Maybe, they should go look if the cursed wire was still laying around... Later.
“I got to ask,” Sportacus said by him again, drawing away his thoughts of if the wire wasn’t there then that would be a worse discovery, “how will your new status affect LazyTown?”
Not a completely unfounded worry from the foreign elf. “Not one iota, thankfully. I own land by human rules. Milford isn’t that good with reading the fine print.”
Besides that. Things would never go back to normal again in this small, used to be, quiet town. Not that it ever had been. And, Robbie didn’t in particular mind, not right now anyway. For now, he was going to enjoy the moment.
A warm wind breezed past them, making the fall coloured leaves rustle.
“You know, there’s only two things I’m going to miss with no longer being invited to the fancy parties,” Robbie mused aloud. “The food, obviously, and getting to dress up nicely.”
“I don’t know about the first one. But, nothing is stopping you from putting on something nice. You look beautiful in a dress,” the man answered and ran his thumb in small circles over his knuckle. “I’ll miss the dancing with you.”
“I’m sure we can compromise on both parts.”
“Still no dancing games?”
“Definitely not. A waltz perhaps?”
Sportacus grinned up at him. “That was a foxtrot.”
“And still you-” Sportacus silenced him with a kiss of his own.
No, Robbie didn’t in particular mind at all.