#ignore that the art is awkward i was trying to pin down their resemblance

[kkoct-ik]

completely chaotic collection of oc doodles from the past six months

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 10: The Midnight Duel

The purple light from a fading sun gave every burnished piece of gold the effect of being on fire. Trophies, awards, medals, and several plaques all kept a highly polished look about them and stuck to their walls to the exact degree they'd been placed on even as a crash erupted and slightly shook the glass casings.

"That's it, new rule!" Sirius growled as he unstuck his face from a glittering cup boasting of some long ago Transfiguration award. "If you get close to the end of the chapter, you have to warn the rest of us!"

"Seconded," James groaned, having landed in the cradle of a statue, and sure he'd have a bruise for it later.

"Err, I'll agree with whoever gets me down," Alice squeaked from atop the tallest case of a life sized trophy of the school's first, and last, troll wrestler, except someone had the brilliant idea to have the prize be the size of the opponent rather than the student. The misting reflection from her breathing on the face of the bronze statue wasn't leading her to the confidence of getting herself down, considering she feared if she moved a finger to grab her wand she'd topple right off.

Frank tried to instantly jump forward and help, but in his haste hadn't taken note he'd landed on a precariously shaped hourglass award and knocked it over as well as himself, creating a domino effect that ended with the one she was on anyways. Thankfully her perch didn't so much as shiver even with the others now leaning against it. Still unbroken, the leaning cases now resembled an odd staircase.

She shrugged, taking this in stride by edging to that side of the lopsided head and now awkwardly shimming herself down each level, testing her weight before trying the next so as not to further upset anything, and finally making it onto level ground and patting Frank on the shoulder as he got to his feet with a blush.

"Well then," James sighed as he got to the floor and pulled the book out of a display of a dozen other books...leading him to ignore the question of who won a book as an award? "Now that that's settled," he only cast one more look around to make sure everyone was present as he started, rolling his eyes at Sirius now checking his reflection to make sure his hair was still evenly parted from his fall.

He had to hold the book just slightly awkwardly from his hand that still didn't enjoy anything being brushed against it, but was instantly pulled in by the chapter title alone. This was easily going to be the most interesting thing Harry would be doing yet, a duel! He found quickly this to be his favorite chapter just from listening to Harry explore their world even more through so much talk of Quidditch.

"That Malfoy," Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed at him. "As if he even knows what a helicopter is, let alone bragging about getting away from one."

Lily looked at him in complete disbelief, which only doubled when his friends nodded along in agreement. It had been maddening enough listening to Dudley do all that to Harry and their mutters about that, but she really couldn't believe they couldn't see the hypocrites they were being now.

Torn between continuing to ignore their presence, especially in light of the last chapter, and giving them such a piece of her mind they wouldn't have any of their own left, she was grateful when Alice gaped open mouthed at them for a moment before bursting out laughing and turning to Frank, "you ever seen a bigger lot of idiots?"

"Not in all of my years," Frank agreed as he browsed further away from them, pretending to admire some Special Awards to the School given to a student rather than keep staring at such imbeciles.

Sirius spluttered with indignity, Remus and Peter exchanged a look and chose to say nothing, while James rolled his eyes without remorse and kept going, he wasn't going to defend himself to two people he'd never really spoken to, instead he just gave an anxious look at Evans and didn't want to linger on the subject.

It didn't help that the more Malfoy continued to antagonize Neville, the more filthy looks she shot him, as if picturing his messy black hair instead of the sleek blond. When the Remembrall was stolen for a second time and all Malfoy did was laugh as the poor kid was taken away for a broken wrist, James couldn't help but snap at her scoff of disgust, green eyes still lingering on him, and not because he'd been the one to say it.

"Honestly Evans, you really think so low of me? I've never nicked someone else's stuff, certainly not laughed when they were injured!"

"No, but you certainly cause plenty of the injuries," she refused to give in.

"This could go on for a while," Sirius sighed as he wandered over next to Remus, who'd gone over to look at some Defense Against the Dark Arts awards.

Remus agreed noncommittally, he was watching Alice Smith and Frank Longbottom. They were holding hands and whispering to each other, and he found it sweet how clearly worried they were for a kid sharing Frank's last name, whereas James and Evans were bickering loudly over Harry surely about to do the same thing as he mounted his own broom for the first time in chase of a much better flyer.

Peter was watching the bickering pair eagerly, looking at any second about to jump in and save James, though as he'd never actually stepped in between any of their fights neither of them were sure why he kept bothering.

That was all the looking Sirius did before he leaned in to Remus and muttered, "bored yet?"

Remus gave him a sideways look, glanced around at the spacious room that had a few darker alcoves, and shrugged before walking as if checking to see that both doors to this room were locked as well. Obviously he didn't want to go right past the two sparring, so he should check the one around the corner first.

Sirius followed with a curious smirk in place, only a step behind as he turned the same corner, but still wasn't expecting to be seized and pinned to the wall. Remus was still being gentle, holding his shoulders as their lips met, as if still politely asking if this was okay to be doing while not exactly waiting for permission to do it while keeping Sirius pinned. Sirius was having none of that.

The rush from this seized him, he pulled him in tighter, pressing their lips heavily together and only remembering to breathe through his nose when he had to at the slight catch of his breath. He'd already had his fun testing the waters of just kissing with another, and he wanted this to go further like he had before. Now that his first male companion would be leaving at the end of the year, he was going to enjoy this new company, and was still easily pushing aside who exactly he was doing this to lest things get awkward.

A groan he at least tried to muffle escaped him as Remus seemed to instantly understand like always, his hands sliding down tantalizingly slow towards his hips, when he realized what he'd forgotten at the same time he interrupted.

"Unless you two are planning on snogging over there, do you mind if we keep going before time actually ends us."

"I forgot about Regulus," Sirius hissed, pulling away at once and watching the corner with a leer as if expecting him to come bursting around and spot exactly what he'd just said. He in fact hadn't taken note of where his brother had been this whole time, he could have been in this very spot and they likely wouldn't have noticed!

"You tend to do that a lot," Remus said in an honestly conversational tone of voice, releasing him at once and stepping away as if to actually inspect how many trophies a school could hold for the largest Shrivelfig bush.

Sirius hadn't been expecting that, and his first instinct was to reach out and pull him back in arm's length, or even keep going just to prove that they could, there was no reason to stop, when Prongs came around the corner instead with Peter, the first still looking ruffled despite how much he was trying not to.

"Can you believe her?" James muttered, loud enough the whole place could likely still hear anyways. "A bully, honestly, why doesn't she ever go after Snape as often as he curses me! He started it. What's Regulus doing anyways, never seen him bother to say anything before this even while he's been hanging around Snivellus more than she has lately."

"Can't imagine the idea of being interrupted like that," Sirius huffed while crossing his arms.

James seemed to miss the sarcasm.

Peter gave Prongs a reassuring clap on the shoulder, still looking inexplicably pleased by all of this like he'd just seen a great show. "It's alright James, she'll come around."

James gave him a sideways look, like he was trying to detect mocking in that, while Remus finally looked at them and said, "ever tried using some reverse psychology on her?"

"I told you Remus, you can only take two electives, and why would you want to take more anyways-"

"No you idiot," Remus cut off with an eye roll, "I mean, if you don't want her to think you a bully, than try to stop cursing her friend for a bit."

James just looked at him before looking to the other two, "you ever wonder if Moony invented his own language without sharing it with us?"

"All the time," Sirius agreed.

James kept going then just to ignore Remus rolling his eyes at them again.

His excitement grew heavily almost at once, easily blowing off the still foul grumblings he could hear from the redhead at reading of Harry with such a natural on a broom! He was twirling through the air with ease, without a trace of fear, and then he actually caught that little glass ball without a scratch on him! Even McGonagall's arrival couldn't dampen his suddenly good mood, one little detention no matter what the kids fear was trying to tell him otherwise wasn't going to ruin his pride at hearing his Quidditch abilities being passed on!

Somehow the moment got better the longer it kept going!

"I think he actually stopped breathing again," Peter said conversationally as James didn't quite seem able to spit out the reason of why Wood was in the room.

"Probably shouldn't have been letting him get so excited, what with recently being electrocuted and all," Remus agreed with a touch of concern.

"Alright Prongs?" Sirius asked cheerfully, finally heaving himself off the wall with one last look at Remus before going to his best friend and patting him forcefully on the back. "I'm happy for Harry to, he'll be a shoo in for Quidditch in his next year-" he froze though as he glanced down at the words James couldn't get past his lips but Sirius then shouted at the top of his lungs.

Evans actually face palmed at the news of Harry being made Seeker. All four Marauders were over there laughing, applauding each other, and generally pleased beyond all measure for such an accomplishment. Even Alice and Frank looked politely startled at such a feat. Regulus just huffed and sank even lower next to the roster of all past Quidditch players and the various trophies earned over the course of the school. Of course no one was going to mention that he'd made the team in his second year. Obviously his older brother had done nothing more than look on at him in surprise when he'd seen him in the last few games as if he'd forgotten his only brother's existence except when they were playing. He'd show him though, when they got out of this crappy time, whatever was going on here, and played their Quidditch finals that weekend.

The din was deafening from the four and Regulus was honestly tempted to get up all over again and shove that book up Potter's arse if he didn't keep going. Thankfully his image needn't be used, this time, when he kept going at shouting levels all the way up to and past Harry getting into a midnight duel, and only ended with that little Hermione girl getting in the way of their merriment.

"What a little shit, threatening to tell a Prefect on them," James said, that smile finally slipping from him at such a turncoat move.

"She's as bad as Snivellus, more so than Malfoy," Sirius agreed, his nose turned up in disgust.

"Nosy little bugger, hope Harry or Ron shake her off before they get there," Peter nodded along.

They were all sure Lupin agreed as well, though his quiet mutter didn't carry as far like Potter did when he kept going.

Alice and Frank got a moment to smile again when they heard Neville was alright, and had inherited his father's memory problems, and they were all listening unabashedly to the duel about to come when the four kids got there, which meant they all said something quite unique to the little pint not even showing up.

"What a little shit."

James nearly fell over he turned so hard to get his head back around the corner to see Evans looking in his direction, arms crossed, and face still just as red from their fight, though clearly she was putting that aside for now to curse while saying, "never heard such a cowardice move, the least he could have done after starting the fight was finished it!"

Regulus frowned at her though, interrupting whatever fool hearted comment Potter was fixing to agree with. "I found it rather clever actually, why get yourself in trouble when you can just as easily setup your enemy?"

"I can see the merits of both sides," Frank agreed, "the underhanded tactic while he's just saving his own skin from really having to face the fight."

"It's purely ridiculous is what it is," Alice scoffed as she looked at her boyfriend. "There was no winning side in any of this and I'm honestly surprised it went this far instead of all the kids backing down."

"You lot have never been in a real fight have you?" James said aghast at all of this.

"And you've been in too many," Evans snapped testily, causing him to back down and go right back to Harry's problem.

It was a bit entertaining honestly, watching the kids panic and treating getting away from Filch like such a harrowing journey, but the amusement died instantly when the three headed dog entered the picture. Then no one was smiling, minds honestly frozen from shock of hearing of such a monster in their school and if it was really going to get away with eating a bunch of first years!

No one spoke, the rooms shadows feeling more vast than ever and the echo of a massive dog barking in all of their minds until James finally declared all four kids safe no matter what they tried to discuss afterwards.

"That was unbelievable," Peter was the first to find his voice, his light brown eyes still a little wider than normal. "Absolutely ghastly! Whose ruddy idea was it to have that thing in the castle!"

"Du-Dumbl-" Remus stuttered as if a child trying to speak the name for the first time.

"He wouldn't," James said at once. "The Forest he can't really control what comes in and out of there, but he'd never have that thing where so many students could so easily get to it."

"Well this certainly wasn't all Hagrid's doing," Sirius disagreed.

Remus flinched and no one really had much more of an argument, but the mystery still lingered like nothing they'd ever experienced in school. Just what was going on around there?

"Well here's my warning," James sighed as he read the final lines of this chapter.

[thiswasinevitableid]

#56, OT4, NSFW if possible. Thank you for providing Winter-y cheer for us all!

You’re welcome! And this is indeed NSFW

56. my little sibling/cousin makes me sit on santa’s lap and when santa asks me what I want for christmas, I blurt “someone to love” and you’re the cute elf that overhears (or I blurt ….[insert here]) 

He’s exhausted, but he promised he’d take his cousins to see Santa after work while his aunt does some shopping. As is traditional, half the Newton family is already in town, even though it’s three and a half weeks until Christmas. 

Dove and Robin each take their turns, and then insist in that terrifyingly forceful way of six year olds that Duck do so as well. Given he nearly blew it last year when they asked him if Santa was real, he decides he should play along. At least he changed out of his work uniform first so fewer of the other mall employees will recognize him as a twenty-three year old man sitting on Santa’s lap.

“And what would you like for Christmas, young man?”

“Ned, please, make this easy” he hisses at the man playing Santa. 

“Well, then, answer the question dear boy.”

“I, uh, I really want…”

He can’t lie and say something bland, and the only thing he’s really hoping for this winter is-

“I want to get laid.”

He regrets the words and all of his life choices as Ned booms out a laugh. His cousins are too busy studying the toys strewn about the room to hear, so he counts that as his luck for the day, takes their hands, and hurries off into the mall.

------------------------------------

“He really said that?” Barclay looks back at Stern as he restocks cookbooks.

“Yes. I was photo elf today so he didn’t see me cracking up.”

“Don’t know why they hide their cutest elf away like that.”

“Because I’m tall.” 

Barclay turns, glances around to be sure no one is watching, and kisses his cheek. 

“Nah, you’re perfect.”

He blushes; even after nine months of dating, Barclay has a way of acting as if he’s in a perpetual state of falling for him. 

“What did the guy look like?”

“On the shorter side, and his eyes where two different colors. Works at R.E.I.” It’s his best attempt to protect Duck’s dignity.

A conspiratorial smile crosses his boyfriends face, “Keep an eye out for my manager for a sec, babe?”

“Of course. What are you doing?”

“Matchmaking. I hope.”

-------------------------------------

Duck’s on duty in the tent and sleeping bag area when Indrid Cold appears. Indrid works at the tattoo shop across the way, and has a habit of taking lunch the same time Duck does, sitting on a metal bench and trying to draw. The mall gets crowded and loud around then, and two months ago Duck started sneaking him into a back corner of the store so he can have lunch in peace. Indrid, a few years his senior, with his tongue piercing and tattoos, the ratty black pants and various tank-tops that show off a skinny frame Duck would love to get his hands on, is the kind of guy Duck would’ve had a crush on.

Now, Indrid is the kind of guy who makes him so hard he does embarrassing-ass things like say “I need to get laid” in front of his cousins.

Indrid leans his shoulder on the wall, grinning, red glasses making him resemble the mothman tattoo on his right arm. 

“Howdy, sir, got questions about the tents?” Duck smirks. 

“Indeed. Which one is best for sex?”

Duck barks out a laugh, claps a hand over his mouth when a nearby shopper gives him a funny look. 

“Any that ain’t a one-person deal. That your way of tellin me you got a hot date tonight?”

“I might” Indrid peers of the rims of his glasses, “a little bird told me you had a rather, ah, explicit Christmas wish.”

“Aw fuck, who even heard me othern’n Ned?” 

“I suspect it was Joseph. Poor man is stuck being an elf, and it was Barclay who texted me the hint.”

“Ughhhhwait-” Duck stares at him, “you came over here to ask me if, uh, if I wanted to, uh-”

“Yes. Oh dear, was my innuendo unclear? Or was it not even an innuendo?”

Duck has him against the wall in two steps, not touching him but bringing his mouth up to growl in his ear

“Your place, sugar?”

“I get off at seven.”

“Won’t be the only time you get off, I gauran-goddamn-tee it.”

----------------------------------

Indrid’s grip is flatteringly eager as he pins Duck to the door of his trailer.

“Damn, sugar, didn’t know you wanted me that badAhnnnnnohfuckyeah.” He rolls his hips as Indrid yanks his collar down to set hickeys in his skin.

“I have though you were attractive from the moment I saw you, and have wanted to fuck you since that time you made yourself laugh so hard you nearly snorted soda out of your nose.”

“Kinky.” 

“I meant” Indrid grabs and shoves and guides him across the floor, “that the moment I saw that smile I wanted to see what other smiles I could draw from you.” The kiss is a counterpoint the heated touches, so gentle and sincere Duck changes course.

“Fuck it” he hops up onto the kitchen table, discarded illustrations crunching under him, “I can’t wait anymore, you’re so fuckin cute, all fuckin romantic and shit.” He pulls him down into another kiss, groans as clever fingers undo his pants. Duck shifts as Indrid gets them mostly down, refusing to break the kiss all the while. The wire of the taller man’s glasses bumps his skin, and he finally gives in, pulling away so he can guide them off Indrid’s face. 

“I’d very much like to touch.” Indrid’s fingers are tense, poised on Duck’s thighs. He looks shyer without the glasses, almost virginal, which is fucking remarkable for a guy who came onto him in broad daylight. 

“Touch whatever you like, sugar, long as you let me do it back.”

“Gladly. I, ah, that is, should I stay on the outside?” 

He thinks, trying to sty a step ahead of his own brain to see if this is a day where penetration might set it off. 

“This time, yeah.” Duck hooks his legs round Indrids, keeping them close. 

“Does...that mean there might be a next time?” Indrid is gnawing his chapped bottom lip.

Duck waits for him to meet his eyes, then nods so Indrid can know what comes next is pure teasing. 

“Depends on how well you doOHfuck, ‘Drid, that’s it sugar, c’mon, jack me off.” He grinds his hips, Indrid experimenting with different movements, grinning every time Duck moans. 

“Touch me, please, Duck, I want you, want you so much.”

It takes a few seconds of fumbling and two muttered “fucks” before he gets Indrid’s pants undone enough to get his hand around his cock. A tattoo peeks out over either hip, and Duck decides his new plan for the winter is to discover every inch of Indrid’s skin with his mouth and hands. 

There’s a whine as Indrid buries his face into Duck’s shoulder, working him harder as Duck’s fingers go slick with pre-cum. 

“I, I am not going to last very long, wanted this too long, too much”

“Then cum for me, sugar.” He picks up the pace and in four strokes discovers Indrid isn’t kidding, the silver-haired man cumming down his hand. 

“D-don’t stop, don’t stop until I’ve made you cum. AH, ahnnnyes, yes” Indrid squirms with a delighted smile.

“You like that? Knowin I’m gonna wring you dry unless you get me off?” 

“Yes!”

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin needy, you’ll even take me bein rough just so you can fuck me.” He gives up on being gentle, moans when this makes Indrid find just the right pressure and speed. When he cums he let’s go of his cock, uses both hands to drag Indrid into a kiss and feels him shuddering with pleased little sounds. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” He slumps back on his elbows as Indrid drops into a chair, forehead resting on the table “shoulda opened my big mouth in front of Joe sooner.”

“Mmmhmm” Indrid bumps his arm with his nose. Then he cracks his eyes open, the shyness back full-force, “if, ah, if you need to get home I understand but, ah, I was wondering if you’d like to stay awhile?”

“Told my folks I’d be out late. You anglin to cuddle and steal my body heat?”

“Maybe.” A kiss to his arm now, Indrid gazing at him adoringly. 

“Then I’m gonna snuggle the hell out of you.”

Soon they’re nestled under the covers of Indrid’s bed, watching the Repair Shop and talking, Duck’s head on Indrid’s chest. 

“Kinda funny that our exes set us up, ain’t it?”

“You consider Joseph an ex?”

“Kinda? Sounds better than “friend I fucked a few times Freshman year of college.”

“True. I must admit, the thought does make me wish I’d been a fly on the wall.” Indrid freezes as soon as the sentence hits the air, “ah, that’s, I apologize, that just sort of came out.”

“No harm done.” Duck kisses the top of his head, ignoring the ideas conjured up by the admission. Why stick to Indrid watching when he could be involved? And he bets Indrid goes full-on tease with Barclay, something he’d love to see, and there is definitely a recurring fantasy of fucking Joe from behind while someone else came down his throat….

Later. He can think about those things later. Right now, he’s utterly content and happy to focus on the lilting voice rambling about art restoration and the bony hand holding his own. 

------------------------------------------

A side benefit of Duck and Indrid getting together is that they can now go on double-dates with himself and Barclay. Or, as Joseph is starting to call them “put all three men he’s attracted to in a room to see if he cracks” dates. He honestly didn’t mean for it to become that, but the more time they all spend together, the less he can deny the wish that it was just one, four-person date. 

His feelings for Barclay are self-explanatory; he’s his boyfriend of nearly a year who, among other things, treats eating him out as something akin to a religious experience. Indrid, he now understands, plays at his long-running interest in the strange and unusual. The fact his intriguing exterior hides someone a little awkward and very well meaning makes it all the better.

And then there’s Duck. They’d hooked-up a few times in college, when Joseph was newly out as trans, and being with someone who wasn’t weird about it had been the icing on the beefcake (a phrase he used once and made Duck laugh and fall off the bed). Duck has only gotten better with age and, looking at his strong arms and rounded face, the ass he wants to sink his fingers into, Joseph understands that the awe he felt whenever Duck was naked wasn't solely to do with the newness of the act. If ever there was a body to be worshiped, it’s Duck’s.

So, yeah, he’s had a lot to think about while listening to parents art director their children for their picture with Santa. 

Tonights “double date” is a little odd. He and Barclay are each getting a small tattoo (not matching, he’s too sure that’s a way to jinx things) courtesy of Indrid, with Duck tagging along so they can all go to dinner after. Barclay is the last client of the day, and Indrid’s boss locked the four of them in with a reminder to Indrid to arm the alarm when he leaves. Duck flips through magazines as Joseph reads off Buzzfeed Unsolved conspiracy theories for his entertainment. 

“You should do one of those shows. You got that whole nerdy but stylish thing going for you.”

“Duck, my work uniform is an elf costume.”

“But the rest of the time you look like Special Agent Cooper.”

He blushes, “Special Intern Stern is more like it.”

“You’re gettin there, city mouse.”

He looks up at the old pet name, just in time to see Duck throw an Adbusters up as cover and start talking about the image he’s staring out. Joseph lets him. For now. 

--------------------------------------

“There. A safely wrapped present to yourself.” Indrid double-checks the bandage on Barclay’s upper arm. 

“Thanks, man. Can’t wait to see what it looks like all healed. Sure it’s gonna look fucking great.” Barclay still sounds a little shaky from the adrenaline. 

Indrid allows himself a burst of pride that his friend thinks so highly of his work, “I just need to clean up and then we can be on our way.”

Barclay gives an affirmative grunt, staying in his chair. There’s a spike of fear in Indrid’s stomach; did he do something wrong? Is Barclay about to pass out?

Circling the chair to check replaces the fear with pure, skin-prickling lust. 

“My, my, is this why you’ve waited so long to get a tattoo?” 

Barclay whines, shaking his head, his eyes shut and his cock pitching an obscene tent in his jeans. 

“Are you lying?”

“N-no. I, uh, I mean I like pain, but I didn’t think this would happen.”

“That’s a new development.” Indrid leans against his workbench, enjoying the view. 

“Joseph and I have been trying out a bunch of things, figuring out what we like.”

“How very methodical. And unfortunate; if memory serves, once you get wound up it takes time for you to unwind.”

“Indrid please” Barclay’s gritting his teeth. Indrid’s remembering just how fun it is to have such a big man wrapped around his finger. 

“Please what?” He cocks his head.

“I, fuck, I dunno, talk about weird morbid shit. Disasters. Anything that will make it go down.”

A sinful image enters his mind, unshakeable in it’s appeal. 

“I can do you one better. Joseph? Would you come here? I need your help.”

Barclay’s eyes snap open, Indrid grinning at the excitement in them. 

“Is everything alright?” Joseph steps through the door, Duck poking his head in worriedly after him. 

Indrid points to Barclays cock, “I have to clean up, and that needs to be seen to.”

“And you want me to, um, see to it with you two in the room?”

“Only if you are both comfortable-”

“Yes” Barclay and Joseph say it at the same time, the dark haired man crossing the floor and dropping to his knees in front of his boyfriend.

“Should I, uh?” Duck glances between the three. So polite, even when Indrid can see the flush spreading up his skin from here. 

“Please stay.” Joseph is panting, in spite of only now getting Barclay’s zipper down. 

“Barclay?”

“Fine by me, man. Long as you know I’m gonna fuck your boyfriend into the floor for fucking with me like this.”

“That I’d like to see.” Duck shuts the door, grabbing Indrid’s chair so he can sit.

“There is one caveat, sweetheart; you are not allowed to cum right now. I promise I’ll show you new ways of being rough with me if you do.”

“You drive a hard bargain, sugar.”

“No fucking kidding, maybe you should get to fuck him before me since he’s being so meEEan, fuck, yes babe, goddamn I love your mouth.” Barclay arches in the chair as Joseph sucks him off. Indrid’s own cock perks up at the sight, becomes insistent as he turns his back and cleans to the sound of Barclay growling profanity in time with the wet sound of his cock defiling Joseph’s throat. 

He gets things cleaned and in order as fast as his rapidly dwindling focus will let him, turns back to see Barclay whimpering as Joseph kisses and licks along his shaft. Duck is still seated, rubbing his thighs together as he watches them, hands digging into the faux-leather seat. Indrid supposes he should scold him for stimulating himself, but he looks so very handsome right now.

Instead, he strides over to the pair in his client seat and fists his hand into Josephs hair, gelled strands breaking free in his fingers as he guides his mouth back over Barclay’s thick cockhead.

“We do not have all night, pet. So get to it Snap twice if it needs to stop.” He pushes him down by his hair until Barclay’s pressing the back of his throat, then yanks him almost all the way up. Joseph moans steadily, blue eyes darting between him and Barclay beneath black lashes as Indrid forces him up and down. 

“Fuck, babe, you look so fucking good on your knees, taking my cock like a good boy.”

“Ahem.” Indrid manages to look stern. Barclay is just able to tilt his head up enough for Indrid to dip down and kiss his full lips.

“Thank you, baby, thank you for letting me get offAHshitshit.”

“Close, dearest?”

“Uhuh, socloseohfuck”

“Do you want to cum down his throat?”

“So bad, Indrid, please.”

“You heard him, pet.” He holds Joseph’s head down, pre-cum thoroughly staining his pants as Barclay jerks up and Joseph frantically gulps him down. He brings his head up without warning, gathering the stray droplets of cum from his lips and fucking them into his mouth with his fingers.

“Good boy.” He purrs and Joseph whimpers happily. 

He looks at Duck, and for a moment he’s terrified he went too far, ignored him for too long. His boyfriend’s eyes are wide and dark, locked onto where Joseph is still eagerly sucking his fingers. Slowly, his gaze drags up to Indrid, crooked smile blossoming as it does. 

“Indrid Cold, you’re a fuckin genius, and I am gonna fuck you into next week.”

---------------------------------

It’s not next week, but it is ten at night and Indrid is being fucked well into it. 

They’re at Joseph’s apartment, his lack of roommates giving them optimal privacy, and Indrid is on his back on the tidily made bed. Barclay fucks him hard, grunting out thank yous for the privilege, which Indrid would reward with praise were his mouth not currently occupied with Duck riding his face. Joseph is near his head as well, having cum earlier via Barclay’s tongue (“this one of the best goddamn things in the world and I’m gonna show you two how to do it right”) and now rapturously groping Duck. Indrid can’t quite hear all the praise he’s directing at Duck’s body, but he’s going to hazard a guess he agrees with the statements.

“Can, fuck, can one of you make him cum? Wanna feel this demanding little ass tighten.”

“On it.” Joseph grips his cock and oh, no wonder Barclay looks so blissful most days. The man gives masterful handjobs and Indrid cums hard, whimpering when neither Duck nor Barclay lets up. The base of Barclay’s cock thuds against his ass so hard he’s wondering if that part of him can bruise, and Joseph switches his attention to Indrid’s nipple piercings, toying with him just like Duck demonstrated, Indrid squeaking as he sucks Duck’s dick. 

There’s a groan as Barclay cums, working himself through it in Indrid’s increasingly sensitive ass while Duck cums on his face, petting his hair as his hips jerk. 

When he’s finally able to sit up, it’s to a portrait of tender debauchery. Barclays head is on his stomach, his beard and hair a royal mess that Joseph is gently stroking down to some semblance of order. Duck is snuggled up beside him, kissing his shoulders and holding Indrid’s hand. 

“That was, um, something.” Joseph murmurs. 

“A whole hell of a lot of somethin.” Duck opens his free arm so Indrid can nestle against him, Barclay shifting to put his head onto Joseph's thigh. 

“Is it...something we wish to happen again?” Indrid’s nerves creep back up.

“Hell yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Thank goodness. I. Ah. I am realizing I am fond of all three of you and, ah, very attracted to all three of you as well.”

“We should lay out some ground rules, right?” 

Barclay’s stomach growls, “For sure, babe. But can we please get dinner while we do? I’m gonna start eating the strap on. 

“You better not, that one was expensive.”

They clean up themselves and the room, frequent kisses prolonging the process. As Barclay orders pizza and Indrid starts water for tea, Joseph loops an arm around Duck’s shoulders.

“We should get you to blurt out Christmas wishes more often.”

“You got a deal. Just, next time, not in front of Ned.”

[vagrantblvrd]

That bit in the Get Fried! - Left 4 Dead: All Gus August video where Jeremy mentions he almost went to school in Savannah?

Just like.

So many Jeremwood AU possibilities?

The adorable romcom where Jeremy’s a bright-eyed bushy-tailed art student who meets Ryan there?

Ryan’s like. Look, idk a newly minted professor or TA. Maybe just a forever student. Maybe IT. Something, I don’t know because it’s been forever since I slept, but!

He and Jeremy meet and there are all these Feelings and Pining.

Ryan’s a newly minted professor/TA or something, or maybe a forever student or an IT guy and there’s adorable fail-flirting and their friends giving them endless grief about everything?

OR.

Jeremy going back to college after having to pick up a job right after graduating from high school or there was a family emergency and life got derailed for a few years, but now!

Now everything’s more or less back on track and he’s got some money saved/his parents pitching in to help/a scholarship or grants or whatever and all that.

He’s a little nervous about being older than most of the freshmen there but totally up for bettering himself and all that.

And he meets Ryan who is one of the above options mentioned for him in this romcom scenario only there’s less of a power imbalance between them – Ryan’s not his professor/TA in either scenario (or maybe he is??? Reader’s choice I guess) and anyway, they’re smart enough not to get themselves in trouble.

Just you know.

The Pining.

Awkward flirting that is adorable as hell until someone interrupts or they realize how inappropriate it all is and scurry away/make awkward excuses and then scurry away.

More Pining until the end of the term or one of them graduates and then it’s like.

“So, hey. Would you like to get coffee sometime?”

Whoever is asking is freaking out wondering if they’ve read the signs wrong and oh God, how embarrassing??? And the other one falls all over themselves (literally or figuratively) saying yes and anyway, just all kinds of adorable shenanigans and like. Cuteness overload with occasional bouts of Drama. (The whole thinking the other one id dating someone else and the :((((((((((((( heartbreak only to realize it’s one of their BFFs or something.)

Also, also, maybe Jeremy decides to try out for the college gymnastics team or wrestling and Ryan is like OH NO because muscles and flexibility and he’s a dirty old man at the ripe old age of *mumbledysomething* while his friends despair of his idiocy so much. (SO MUCH.)

Because you know Jeremy invites Ryan to one of his meets or competitions or whatever for moral support, hahaha, like Jeremy doesn’t have his own tiny, super enthusiastic cheering section.

And Michael, who side-eyes Ryan so fucking hard just to see him squirm. (Jeremy will not shut the fuck up about the guy, and it gets a million times worse when the idiot’s drunk and omg, Jeremy, omg, just fucking man up and ask him on a date. Or bone him, whichever.)

OR.

The Battle Buddies/agency AU/FAHC AU where they were both students there at the same time (Plot Reasons) and they have this drunken one-night stand they both kind of forget about? (But not really?)

Jeremy young and stupid and there’s this hot guy at a party with his stupid floppy hair and he’s had enough to drink to make ill-advised decisions that (probably) won’t haunt him years into the future in unforseen ways?

And Ryan, it’s the one (1) time he gives in and lets his buddies get him (somewhat) drunk to the point he will also make those same sort of ill-advised decisions.

And look, okay, look. There’s this guy there with his hair dyed some ridiculous anime color and this smile and this laugh and Ryan’s.

He’s not drunk, just kind of stressed because exams just ended and he’s always been the Good Kid and college is supposed to be where he has this kind of fun, right? Not hurting anyone and figuring himself out and is the guy checking him out? (Oh God, the guy is totally checking him out.)

And then you know, one-night stand where they have a nice time and everyone’s happy, but clearly this was an ill-advised choice and anyway, anyway.

Ryan gets caught up in shenanigans that end up with him joining up with the Battle Buddies agency/life of crime and he doesn’t really have the luxury to pursuing anything of a ~romantic nature with the hot guy from the party. (Didn’t even really catch his name, so there’s that to consider too. Also, it would put him at risk and hell, the guy probably doesn’t even remember him.)

But, you know. There’s something oddly familiar about Jeremy when they meet (Jeremy has the same feeling?) But it’s been years since that night and Ryan’s taken to wearing his hair short/in a ponytail and the whole Vagabond deal, and Jeremy’s taken to shaving his head. (Also being drunk-ish at the time helps in the not recognizing one another thing for Plot Reasons.)

And like.

All this Pining between them not realizing they’re that memorable one-night stand from college/the one that got away shenanigans until they get a mission in Savannah and Jeremy mentions he went to school there and everything comes flooding back and they’re like, OH SHIT because they never forgot that night and all that.

MORE ridiculous Pining only with ~Memories to back it up and everyone around them stuffing popcorn in their faces waiting for these idiots to get their shit together because it’s been a long time coming.

OR.

The Battle Buddies AU/agency AU/FAHC AU where they end up in Savannah because a target’s connected to the university or whatever?

While they’re setting up surveillance gear or doing reconnaissance Jeremy’s like, “Oh, hey. Did you know I almost went here? Even did a campus tour.”

Ryan, who’s doing some troubleshooting with their tech/driving/whatever and listening with half an ear is like “Oh yeah? Talk about a coincidence, huh?”

And Jeremy, okay. He thinks Ryan just means it’s a coincidence they have a mission that brought them back here, but no.

Not really.

Because once upon a time Ryan was a student here or something, but maybe Jeremy doesn’t know that part? Ryan doesn’t think much of what Jeremy said other than being an interesting little tidbit about Jeremy’s past?

But the longer they’re in the city and around the campus the more memories keep surfacing of his time there, and he’s like.

Shit.

Because there was. Look, Ryan switched majors a couple of times when he was in college, shifting interests and whatnot and that’s kind of what college is sometimes.

Anyway, anyway.

Before his life kind of went to hell and he joined the military/government agency/became a ~terrible criminal he went to the university, right.

Saw his fair share of student tour groups coming through or whatever, and maybe, maybe, there was this one kid who kind of looked like Jeremy? (His Jeremy.)

And he only noticed the guy at all because he was loud and boisterous, laughing it up with his buddies and this laugh that he couldn’t not notice because it was infectious as hell.

Ryan glancing over and watching these dumb kids so full of life and totally unaware of what life held in store for them regarding college life, because ~suffering with the being forced to resemble functional adults?

Didn’t really think much about it after that day, except when he first met Jeremy. (His Jeremy.)

Thought oh, wow, because it had been years and years since he saw that group of high school students and saw the kid with the infectious laughter? But damn if Jeremy doesn’t have the same thing going for him.

Thinks nothing of that either because there are just people like that sometimes, and Ryan’s too busy keeping up with Jeremy and his shenanigans to connect the dots. (Doesn’t really have reason to, does he?)

But then!

Then there’s Jeremy and his idle comment, just dropping a nugget of info about himself that happened to pop into his head and Ryan!

Ryan is like.

WAIT.

Because did he actually sort of kind of run into Jeremy before they officially met? (Not the weirdest thing to happen to him if it did, but what are the odds?)

But they’ve got a mission to see to so he shoves all that to the back of his mind to pick apart while they murder the hell out of some asshole or whatever.

Later, after the target’s dead and they’re back home, Ryan does some digging.

Goes to Matt or whoever is their techie guy and asks a favor. Ignores the side-eye he gets for that and the favors he’s going to owe in return because this little ~mystery has been nagging at him the whole time.

Some time later Jeremy happens across Ryan who’s got a yearbook or copy of a student paper or something, this look on his face like that time they ran into some asshole Ryan thought was dead.

Real piece of work who faked his death and came after Ryan for revenge or something and it was a whole Thing (Jeremy’s got this wicked scar to show for it and Ryan gets this look to him when he sees it, but that’s a whole other Thing they still need to deal with whenever Jeremy can pin Ryan down for it, but anyway.)

“Everything okay?”

Ryan laughs, kind of dorky and everything and tells Jeremy that hey, wow, yeah. Everything’s fine, but remember how you said you almost to school in Savannah?

And Jeremy is a little concerned because he mentioned that weeks ago (a month, almost) and Ryan’s still thinking about it?

So Ryan shows him the yearbook or student paper and there in stunning black and white is this photo of a bunch of asshole high school kids touring the campus. Some dumb little caption about prospect for the upcoming school year, but the thing that captures Jeremy’s eye is the fact he’s one of the assholes in the picture.

Stupid teenager Jeremy with even more questionable fashion choices and -

“Where the hell did you get this?” Jeremy asks, dumb little smile on his face because jfc, what was he thinking with that hair?

Not to mention the clothes, and oh, God, he was such a disaster back then, huh?

And Ryan points out this little cluster of college students at the edge of the photo, almost out of the frame.

One of them is stupid tall and has this ridiculous mop of floppy hair and some nerdy t-shirt and holy fuck, that’s Ryan.

“Oh my God,” Jeremy says, in shock and delight. “Oh my God.”

He snatches the yearbook/student paper out of Ryan’s hands and goes off running to show whoever the hell he can because look at this idiot, okay. Just fucking look at him.

Never mind Jeremy’s own dumb face, fucking looking at Ryan’s, okay.

And Ryan is like JEREMY NO and chases after him and anyway, anyway, just like. Idiots in love who maybe already know/have yet to figure it out and this weird little coincidence of a connection they didn’t know about before.

So...yes.

[brookeap3]

Post-its and Paperclips Regina’s Birthday

Well it's a little late (I'm sure no one is surprised) but Happy Belated Birthday to Regina!

{ ffn } { Ao3 }

The idea had come from one of Roland's preschool projects. Belle has been teaching them how to make origami animals, flowers, and all manner of things. His boy has been quite taken with his new found hobby. Begging Robin to help him fold brightly colored paper into an entire Noah's Arc worth of creatures. Elephants and tigers, whales and crabs, more frogs than he can keep count of.

So when Robin had learned that Regina’s birthday was only a few days away, he’d decided to try his hand at some of the flowers. It’s cheesy and a bit ridiculous, but it’s become their thing. These little flirty, post-it battles and notes, always trying to one up each other. It’s his deep hope that she finds the bouquet he’s planning enchanting rather than silly.

Robin had even gone out and purchased a new pack of neon colored post-its for the project. Blue and pink and green and orange. He sits at the kitchen table, fingers large and clumsy as he attempts to fold the tiny squares into something resembling a petal. Youtube pulled up on the laptop laid open on the table, a woman who clearly has far too much time on her hands telling him in an overly sweet voice how simple it is. And look at that? Now you have a petal.

Well, she can bloody sod off, because Robin does not have a petal. All he’s managed is a wrinkled bit of orange paper vaguely formed into a cone shape that he tosses across the table in frustration. Perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea after all...

“Whatcha doing, Daddy?” Roland’s voice sounds through the room as Robin is scrubbing his hands over his face, just as he’s decided to give it another go, reminding himself that Regina will be charmed by the gesture and for all his struggles it will be worth it just to put that elusive but satisfying smile on her face.

Ocean blue eyes land on his son standing in the doorway, clutching his grey stuffed monkey to his chest, wild mop of brown curls even more unruly courtesy of the nap he’s just woken from. Robin smiles sheepishly at him, scooting his chair back against the linoleum with a squeak and opening his arms in welcome. One Roland happily accepts as he climbs up into his father’s lap.

He presses a nose to Roland’s hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as he explains. “I’m working on a surprise for Regina. Her birthday is coming up and I thought she might like it.”

“Her birthday!” Roland exclaims, the last dregs of sleepiness instantly forgotten as he twists in Robin’s arms with wide eyes. “Is she gonna have a party? Can I come? R’gina’s my friend I wanna wish her happy birthday!”

Chuckling at his son’s exuberance, Robin holds up a hand. “Slow down. I have no idea what Regina’s plans are.”

“We need to celebrate. Birthdays are the best day of the year. We gotta make it special.”

The serious and matter of fact manner in which Roland declares this has Robin fighting back a grin and silently snickering. “How would you suggest we do that?” He asks, curious what plans his son is concocting inside that imaginative mind of his.

“We could have a party for her here…” Roland suggests slyly, dimples puckering in his cheeks as he grins.

Hmmm...while Robin is certain at least fifty percent of Roland's motivation behind this suggestion is the prospect of chocolate cake and icing, it's not an entirely bad idea. Of course, he hasn't a clue how Regina would feel about it. In fact, it's even rather likely she already has plans. Though they've been acquainted for years, they've only just begun to truly know one another. Surely there is someone she typically celebrates the day with.

“And what did you have in mind for this party?”

Roland takes a minute to mull the question over, the tip of his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he concentrates. “Well… we could make her dinner! And cake! And then we can watch a movie. Like when she comes over on Sundays!”

It comes as no surprise that is Roland's suggestion, but it amuses him just the same. Honestly, he's a tad surprised he hadn't listed his favorite things to do at his birthday with the assumption that surely Regina must want the same. Somehow, as wonderful as she is with his son and how quickly and easily they've bonded, Robin doesn't see her being all that enthusiastic about pin the tail on Uncle John and balloon animals.

Hoping to nullify him for the moment, Robin offers, “How about this? I will ask Regina if that's what she would like to do for her birthday, but if she has other plans we will just have to see her another day. Does that work?”

He thinks it over for a few seconds before nodding, curls bouncing around his face. “Okay! But she'll say yes!” Roland replies with complete confidence that both tickles and warms Robin's heart.

Roland’s attention shifts back to the table scattered with supplies. “They’re post-its, Daddy, like our Christmas tree. Regina will like that.” His son’s eyes twinkle as he asks Robin if he can help make flowers for Regina to which Robin agrees. And with Roland’s practiced skills in the art of origami the two of them manage to create a plethora of petals they carefully glue together to form the flowers they then group together with a rubber band and lay out on the kitchen table for Robin to take to work.

Who knew the help of a toddler was all it would take?

. . .

Today’s just like any other day. At least, Regina wishes it were. Except it’s her birthday. Which means a day consisting of a mixture of frustrations and painful longing for days long since passed. Doubly upsetting when she considers how much she used to love her birthday. So she’s not in the best of moods as she swings her car door closed with a gentle, yet firm bang and heads into the office. She would like nothing more than to get through this day and start over tomorrow. With another whole year before she has to feel this way again.

“Good morning, Regina.” Ashley greets her merrily as she walks into the office.

But she’s annoyed. Has already suffered an awkward and uncomfortable phone call with her mother this morning and the young girls youthful energy is too much for eight o’clock in the morning. Regina merely gives her a mild glare and ignores her, breezing past her desk on the way to her office.

Once there, Regina shrugs out of her coat and hangs it in the cabinet behind her desk before sitting down in her chair to power up her computer. She spends the next half hour wading through emails and answering this and that, double checking her scheduling for the day. Following it up with a conference call that lasts over an hour and leaves her with a dull throbbing in her temples. The day looking like it’s going to pan out exactly as she’d expected.

She’s just rubbing her fingers over the sensitive muscles along her hairline, eyelids closed as her hands move in soothing circles, when a voice sounds through the room. The one person in this office whose presence is a welcome distraction rather than an annoyance.

“Good morning, lovely.”

Robin stands in the doorway, arms clasped behind his back as he leans a shoulder against the frame. A subtle smirk gracing his features that has a slight smile forming on Regina’s own lips.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

As he pauses to take in her appearance, Robin notes the minor signs of stress that emanate from her. The tense, hunched set to her shoulders, the vein that only pops up on her forehead when she’s agitated, her hair slightly mussed as if she’s been running her fingers through it repeatedly. “Rough morning?” Robin asks, frowning a bit. She still looks beautiful of course, but he’d hoped to find her a bit more cheery on her birthday.

“You could say that.” Regina replies, standing to round her desk and leaning back against the edge of it, waiting for him to enter the rest of the way.

“Hopefully I have something that helps with that. Or at least enough to brighten your day a bit.”

Striding a few steps into the room, Robin then brings his arms from around his back to present her with a brightly colored arrangement of flowers, that handsome grin etched onto his face. It causes one of her own to slowly spread over her face as she looks down at the bouquet, reaching out a hand to take it from him. When she realizes upon closer examination that it’s made up of little post-it notes Regina lets out a laugh and shakes her head at him.

“What is this?”

There’s a nearly invisible blush to Robin’s cheeks, so faint that if she wasn’t coming to know his facial features so well, Regina might have missed it. But it’s there and her heart trips a little at the knowledge that he’s bashful over his present to her.

“I thought you might like this better than a traditional bouquet.” Clear blue eyes meet hers, affection shining within them as he reaches out a hand to brush a lock of hair behind her ear, enjoying the feel of the silky strands for a second before he says, “Happy birthday, Regina.”

Surprise flickers over her face before her gaze drops to look at the neon groupings in her hand again. “How did you know what today was?” She questions curiously. Regina certainly hadn’t mentioned it.

“Little birdie told me.”

Frowning, Regina twirls the little bouquet between her thumb and index finger in a nervous gesture. “Oh really? And who might that have been?” Her birthday isn't Regina's favorite time of year. It used to be. But not since Daddy had died. Now the day just feels empty and lifeless, another year gone. It's become par for the course for her to not make a big deal out of it.

Guilt lances through her when Robin bites his lower lip between his teeth in clear confusion before supplying, “Mary Margaret.” Of course. The tiny, dark-haired, sprite of a woman in charge of their human relations department would be the one to go spreading that information around. Damn woman can't keep anything to herself. “Regina, have I done something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not.” Regina assures. She's being ridiculous and inconsiderate when he's been sweet enough to make her a flower bouquet out of brightly colored post-its.

Turning his back to her for a moment, Robin strides over to close her office door with a quiet click before returning to his place a step in front of her. He places a gentle hand on her elbow, touch light as he strokes his thumb over her exposed skin, just below where her sleeve caps off. “Are you sure?” He asks. “Because you don't seem too pleased with the gift.”

“I love the gift!” Regina is quick to exclaim, setting the origami flowers on the desk behind her before popping up on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips. Dropping back down to her thin stiletto heels she mutters quietly, “I'm sorry. My birthday isn't something I've really celebrated the last few years.”

Robin's fingers weave their way through her hair, as is his habit, gently massaging her scalp in that way he knows instantly relaxes her. He's unearthed so many of her quirks in the last near month and a half they've been dating, yet there's still so much they don't know about one another. This, for example. This troublesome wound that hasn't quite healed itself back to what it once was.

He's shockingly skilled at reading between the lines when it comes to everything she says though and Robin catches on to the root of her discomfort instantly. “Only the last few years? Because of your father?” He asks, those bright blue eyes she falls for more and more with each passing day so filled with understanding. They’ve talked enough about her father and how close she was with him, how hard his death was for her to cope with, that it’s not shocking to him to discover the loss has bled over into this occasion as well.

Nodding, troublesome, pesky tears threatening her composure for a brief moment before she blinks them rapidly away and confirms in barely above a whisper, “Yes.” Regina sighs and takes a step backward until her hips meet the edge of her desk and she can rest her weight against it. One of her hands reaches out to weave her fingers with Robin’s, tugging him closer to her and leaving them tangled together as she looks up at him.

“My father always went above and beyond to make my birthday special. For as long as I can remember he would plan something memorable for me, just the two of us. When I was really little he would set up a fairy garden for me to play in and I’d chase him through the back yard. He built me a castle when I was six. Just a play one but I felt like a princess. One year he even got me my own pony. By the time I got to be a teenager it was pulling me out of school for an entire day at the stables or taking me to a play. All through college he would plan a little trip for us. Just a few days somewhere we’d never been to sightsee and explore. To relax.”

Regina has to take a second to pause, her heart clenching painfully as the many wonderful memories she has with her father on this day overwhelm her. Three years without him and it still hurts so much. Grief is a funny thing that way. But Robin is there, ever thoughtful and understanding. He doesn’t push her. Merely runs his nose along the side of her forehead and wraps an arm around her to pull her into his embrace while she collects herself.

Breathing in the familiar scent of him, Regina buries her nose into his chest while she fights back tears for a few minutes. His hand strokes gently up and down her spine in slow passes that eventually have her settling again.

Pulling away just enough that she can look into his eyes again, Regina continues. “It’s been tough. Without him here. My birthday just isn’t as exciting anymore.” She brushes away a stray tear with the side of her index finger and then scoffs when she says, “And it’s never been of much interest to mother. Not once has she ever fussed over the day. It was always Daddy.”

Robin’s palm shifts to cup her jaw, thumb stroking over the apple of her cheek. Every new piece of information he learns about this woman leaves him in awe of her, proving how strong she is, how resilient. All he wants to do is give her the world, to see her smile, and make her feel as adored as she is. “I’m sorry. I wish he could be here.”

“Me too.” Regina sniffles, letting her head rest in Robin’s palm. “I’ve been in a funk all morning. I didn’t mean to appear like I don’t appreciate your gift. I love my flowers.” She assures him, though Robin is quick to dismiss her concern over him. Today is about Regina.

“Do not even worry about that. I only want today to be a happy one for you.” Robin hesitates for a few seconds. It seems a bit odd to ask her over for dinner after such a heavy admission, but perhaps it will do her some good also. Take her mind off of her father. So he continues with, “Actually, I was also coming to ask you a question. I was wondering, if you don’t already have plans, of course, if you would like to come to dinner tonight.” Robin bites his lip a bit sheepishly before admitting, “Roland wants to celebrate with you. And to cook you dinner.”

Regina chuckles, perfectly picturing the image of the little boy insisting to his father that he wants to celebrate her birthday. It’s enough to lighten the mood out of the somber atmosphere she’d created. “Only Roland?” She teases with a watery smile.

“I would certainly like to spend the evening with you also, I assure you.” He leans down until his lips are an inch away from hers and mutters, “There may be a surprise or two waiting for you if you agree as well.” Her laughter brushes over his mouth with a quick burst of air as she places a hand in the center of his chest and gently pushes him back.

Regina thinks the offer over for a moment, though she certainly has nothing better planned. Or anything at all really. Then asks, “Are you sure, Robin?”

“Completely.” He replies with no hesitation, gripping both of her hands in his and squeezing. “Let me make this birthday special for you again. Please, Regina.”

Her grin spreads like molasses over her face and then she’s nodding in agreement. “Alright. What time shall I come over?”

“Seven.” Robin answers, leaning in to kiss her for a full thirty second before drawing back and muttering something about letting her get back to work, asking if she’d like to grab lunch later to which she informs him she already has plans. Robin smiles and tells her he’ll see her at the staff meeting later then. And then he’s gone.  

Regina returns to her desk, a silly smile etched firmly on her face as she realizes with the prospect of an evening with her two favorite boys that this birthday might not be such a terrible one after all.

. . .

It’s their tradition. Lunch on her birthday. Regina doesn’t have many people that she’s close with. Ones she trusts, who’ve never let her down. But Mal is one of them. They’ve been friends since college, had been paired together for an assignment in their gender studies class and the woman had swept into her life like a tornado. There’d been no going back after that.

Regina is already seated, tapping out a quick email on her phone, fingers racing over her screen when the blonde arrives. Looking stunning as always, of course. She's dressed in one of her powerhouse suits, paired with thin heels and a matching hat to boot. Her hair is curled in tight ringlets and pinned to the nape of her neck, lips painted a bright red. When she spots Regina, her mouth curves into a smile as she quickly and regally strides over to her.

Leaning down, Mal places a kiss to Regina's cheek, careful not to leave a smudge of lipstick behind, before taking the seat across from her. “Happy birthday, darling.”

“Thank you.” Regina replies. Coming from Mal she doesn't feel like she has to put up any front, can simply accept her well wishes gracefully and honestly. This is a part of her birthday she genuinely enjoys.

Mal studies her for a moment, with that intense blue gaze that always makes Regina feel as if she can see straight into her soul, even if she's used to it by this point. “So, tell me dear, how is thirty-three treating you thus far? Though you still don’t look a day over twenty-five. You bitch.”

Regina chuckles, sipping on her white wine and grinning at the woman across the table from her. “Oh please. Like you aren’t drop dead gorgeous. And we can’t all be 5’9” platinum blonde, badass district attorneys. We have to have something else going for us.”

The other woman merely lifts a single eyebrow and shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly, doing her best to hide the way her lips curve subtly in a smirk of her own. “True. We do make a lovely pair.” Her eyes dart down to the leather menu in front of her, though it’s merely a distraction, she always orders the same thing when they come to this particular restaurant, as she asks, “Truthfully though, how is this birthday looking up? Any word from the insufferable mommy dearest?”

The sigh Regina exhales is both weary and expected as she focuses on her own menu for a moment, debating between the garlic black pepper chicken and the red curry. “Yes. She called early this morning per usual. At five o’clock in the morning mind you. Apparently she forgot about the time difference between here and London.”

Mal rolls her eyes so hard, Regina thinks for a moment they just might stick that way, before she scoffs, “Always so considerate, your mother.”

Shrugging her shoulder, Regina replies, “It is what it is.” She truly wishes that she and Cora had a better relationship. That they could talk for longer than twenty minutes without it turning incredibly awkward. That she could feel even a semblance of the connection she’d had with her father. Unfortunately, the two of them have never understood each other and it’s made it impossible for them to form any sort of real mother daughter relationship.

But it’s a sore subject for her and Mal knows it so she quickly moves on. “Let’s not talk about her anymore. Please tell me you have some sort of big birthday plans and you’re not intending to sit at home on your couch all night.” She pauses, angles her head down to give Regina a firm look beneath her lashes. “I will drag you out this year if I have to.”

Count on Mal not to take any of Regina’s excuses. She’d bitched at her last year for moping about because her father would not have wanted that for her. So Regina is pleased to be able to answer with, “As a matter of fact, I do have plans this evening.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

Regina can’t contain the silly smile that forms on her face as she admits, “I’m going over to Robin’s. He and his son are making me dinner.”

Mal hums consideringly, “Mystery man, huh?”

“He is not a mystery man.” Regina replies in exasperation, though she knows her friend is only teasing her. They are interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, however, and their conversation pauses as Mal orders her own glass of wine and an order of hot pepper chicken. Regina ends up with the curry, in the mood for something with a bit of kick and then they pick up where they’ve left off.

“Well I haven’t met him yet. How do I know he even exists and if I drop by unexpectedly tonight I won’t find you in leggings and that ragged Boston U tee you’ve owned since you were a freshman?”

Laughing, Regina sips from her wine glass and shakes her head at Mal. Things are still new between her and Robin. She hasn’t been quite ready to unleash her dragon of a best friend on him yet. Though, Regina has to admit, the image of them two of them facing off together for the other’s approval is a rather amusing one. “Robin exists,” she answers instead, “and you’ll meet him soon enough.”

Resting her glass back down on the table, Regina leans forward and lowers her voice, still touched by his gift. “He made me a flower bouquet out of post-it notes. It might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever given me.” She feels almost foolish saying it, but the gesture had been adorable and thoughtful and (after she’d examined it in a bit more in depth) time consuming. A warm feeling still rises up in her belly just thinking about it.

She’d relayed everything that had happened on Christmas Eve to the other woman shortly after, so she’s aware of the history behind it, has heard all about their little post-it wars and despite her sometimes cynical attitude toward the world, Mal’s lips twitch. “And you were charmed by this adolescent display?”

“Yes I was,” Regina giggles. “It was sweet.” Mal teases her over how dorky their entire little game is some more, not for the first time, until the arrival of their meals, but Regina lets it roll off of her, too pleased with her relationship with Robin to care.

Scooping rice and sauce up onto her fork, Regina’s dark brown eyes focus directly on Mal’s, telling her with complete sincerity, “Honestly, he’s wonderful. I know it’s happened at lightning speed, but I’ve never been with anyone who makes me feel like this. He’s caring and thoughtful and makes me laugh. Not to mention I’m absolutely crazy about his child.”

Nodding as she picks over her own dish, Mal comments in an even tone, “I haven’t seen you this happy in awhile.”

“I haven’t been this happy for a long time.”

She waits a minute, seemingly considering her next words before saying, “Well, then I suppose I have to give the man some credit.” She picks up her wine glass, takes a deep drink from it before steadying her gaze on Regina. “I’m happy for you. Truly. You deserve it. All of it.”

“Thank you.”

The pair chit chat for the remainder of their lunch, Regina catching up on what’s been happening in Mal’s life and listening to her bitch about her boss. Something she can certainly relate to with Gold for a boss. Not long after, the women part outside the restaurant with an affectionate hug and two quick kisses to each of the other’s cheeks and promises of wanting to hear how Robin measures up with this birthday dinner in a few days.

When Regina gets back to the office that afternoon, she feels even more uplifted after her lunch with Mal, ready to power her way through her meetings this afternoon, including a full staff meeting, before going home to get ready for dinner with Robin and Roland. There’s a goofy grin on her face at just the thought of this evening as her heels click on the marble floor of their lobby, all the way into their portion of the building.

She passes Ashley at the reception desk, shooting the woman a sunny smile that she had most certainly not had this morning when she’d arrived. Greets Leroy on her way past his desk into her office, ignoring the cranky remark he replies with. That’s when she sees it.

A paper to-go cup in the familiar and tell-tale red cup of her favorite coffeeshop sitting on her desk. She smiles, a bit puzzled as she continues the rest of the way inside and rounds her desk. Beneath the cup lies a post-it and Regina’s mouth instantly curves into an even wider grin. Dropping her purse, she picks up the cup, still warm, even through the cardboard sleeve wrapped around it, to read the familiar scribble on the yellow square.

Hope lunch went well. An afternoon pick me up for the birthday girl.

Regina laughs softly and shakes her head at Robin. The man could win an award for being the king of charm. One of the many ways he’s stolen her heart so quickly.  

She’s still grinning stupidly at the note when Jefferson ducks his head into her office, “Meeting’s starting in five.” And Regina shifts her gaze from the post-it in her hand to him and nods, informing him she’ll be right there. As silly as it might be, Regina gathers up her notepads and papers and then tucks the little square in between the pages. Gripping her coffee and heading off to the conference room. She spends the next hour alternating between taking notes as Gold rambles on about numbers and quarterly goals and beaming at the note then glancing at Robin across the table.

He smirks back at her, bites his lower lip every time she takes a sip from the red cup and it’s utterly distracting. Entirely unprofessional. Yet, neither of them seem to be able to help themselves, silently flirting with each other in the middle of a meeting.

And if she happens to grab him after the meeting concludes, pulling him into the supply closet for a quick make out against the shelves of printer paper and shipping boxes, well, who can blame her?

. . .

Regina raps her knuckles on Robin’s front door in a quick rapid succession and then bounces on the balls of her feet for a moment, shivering as a burst of chilly air gushes across the porch. The cold is quickly forgotten though as the door swings open and Roland’s smiling face is the first thing to greet her.

“R’gina! Happy birthday!” He exclaims, barreling through the doorway to strangle tiny arms around her thighs, shoving his face into her stomach, and then looking up at her to show off those pearly whites.

She chuckles softly, one hand falling to fluff his moppy brown curls as she grins back down at him. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Even if everything else today had happened to fail to brighten her spirits, this little boy’s pure and youthful excitement over the prospect of a birthday would have been enough to make her day wonderful. Oh how she adores him.

Shifting her gaze from the lovable dimples staring up at her, Regina spies Robin grinning like a fool at both of them from just inside the foyer. “You two coming in or are we going to let Regina freeze on her birthday?” He asks teasingly.

Roland gasps and grabs Regina’s hand, pulling her behind him into the house. “We made you dinner, R’gina.” He informs her as Robin smirks at her, resting a hand at the small of her back as their lips meet for a quick smooch before her focus is back on Roland and he’s helping her out of her coat, moving to hang it in the closet.

“Did you?” Regina plays along, as if she wasn’t aware that is precisely the reason for her being here tonight. Whatever it is that they’ve put together smells absolutely delicious though. Rich scents wafting in from the kitchen and permeating throughout the house. Herbs and spices. Roasted peppers.  

“Uh-huh. I got to mash the potatoes!”

Lord he is cute. Regina feels as if the smile splitting her face is enough to light up her entire being. Already, she’s having her best birthday in years and the evening has only just begun. The magical effect of a precious toddler apparently. “Did you?” She says in a tone that conveys she is thoroughly impressed. “I bet they taste yummy.”

Roland nods eagerly and then Robin is telling him, “Why don’t you go check and see if the oven timer has gone off yet so we know if the chicken is done?” And she watches him scamper off.

Turning toward Robin, Regina smiles when he immediately encircles his arms around her waist, clasping his hands together at the base of her spine. She reaches up to loop her own around his neck and then their mouths meet in a proper kiss of greeting. Robin’s tongue darting out to run along the seam of her lips, silently requesting permission to deepen the kiss, which Regina happily grants.

Once he finally pulls away he drops his forehead to hers, chuckling when Roland’s loud voice shouts from the kitchen, It’s done, Daddy! “He’s been over the moon about all of this since I picked him up from preschool. I hope you enjoy chicken and potatoes with veggies.”

“I’m sure it will taste delightful.” Regina assures, stepping back and reaching out a hand for his, locking their fingers together as they make their way further into the house.

“Surprise!” Roland exclaims when they step into the kitchen.

There is a large grouping of balloons on the kitchen table and streamers twisted around themselves hanging from corner to corner in the room, resulting in Regina coming to a complete halt to turn a questioning gaze at Robin. “What’s all this?”

“Roland insisted that we give you a party. You can’t have a party without streamers and balloons I’m told.”

Her heart seems to swell to an impossibly large size inside her chest as she grins at him. Once again incredibly thankful to have both of them in her life. Then she releases his hand in favor of walking over to where Roland is stationed in front of the oven. Crouching down to his level, resting one knee on the floor, Regina bops a finger to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, Roland. I love my balloons.”

“I picked them out myself!” He states proudly, puffing up his chest.

“They’re perfect.”

He and Robin go about preparing the rest of their dinner, offering her a glass of wine while she watches the two of them work, trying to help, though she is met with a firm refusal from the both of them. They end up in the dining room, more balloons stationed in here as well and making Regina laugh at the extent of which they’d gone to make tonight a real “party”.

Dinner is wonderful. Full of laughter. Roland tells her all about each and every one of his birthdays. All four of them. Though he doesn’t remember the first two and it cracks Regina up. She shares a few more of her own memories, days spent with her father. Rather than making her sad thinking of them as it has in the recent past, sitting here with both of them, feeling nothing but cherished, Regina can remember them fondly, grateful to have had someone who loved her so deeply. Somehow they’ve managed to help give her a completely different outlook on the day than she’d started out with.

The three of them eat until they are overly stuffed full of the baked herb chicken Robin had made and mashed potatoes, grilled red and yellow peppers, and broccoli. She and Robin have had a healthy amount of wine to Roland’s milk and Regina’s feeling loose and happy when his little voice pipes up.

“Is it time for cake now, Daddy?” Roland asks, a tad too innocently, in a way that makes it entirely clear he’s been waiting through all of their meal to ask this very question.

Robin chuckles. If there’s one thing he can always count on, it’s Roland’s preference for sweets above all else. “Well, I think that should be up to Regina, don’t you?” His eyes move from Roland to the dark haired woman sitting across from him, her lips quirked up in the beginnings of a smirk she can’t quite hide as she watches his son.

“Can we, R’gina? Pleeeeeease.” Roland pleads, looking sheepish when Robin chides him lightly that they don’t whine for things. He bites his bottom lip the same way Robin does, and Regina’s heart trips over in her chest at the sight, a little miniature of his father. Her affection for both of them and all they’ve done for her today suddenly bubbling up to the surface.

She hums for a moment, tapping her index finger against her cheek as she pretends to mull his question over. “I don’t know… I’m awfully full from your delicious dinner. Are you sure there’s still room for cake?”

Roland’s eyes morph from a brief moment of disappointment to enthusiasm all in the space of a few seconds. “There’s always room for cake!” He exclaims and the seriousness in his tone finally has Regina breaking, a bold laugh erupting and causing her shoulders to shake with her mirth as she finally tells him, Yes, they can have cake now.

Whooping, Roland jumps up out of his seat, dashing through the archway toward the cabinet to retrieve the candles they keep on hand. Regina starts to stand and gather their plates, but Robin is quick to stop her. “No, no, you stay there. I’ve got these.” He picks up her plate, sets it atop his and Roland's, and then leans down so his mouth is nearly pressed against her ear and murmurs conspiratorily, “Roland’s quite proud of the cake. He decorated it for you himself.”

Pleasure spreads through her as Robin pulls away and their eyes meet, “Really?” He nods, grinning at her before turning away and disappearing back into the kitchen to deposit the dishes he holds into the sink. She’s touched beyond words at the care he and Roland have put into this evening.

She’s just taking a sip of her wine when the lights dim and an off-key chorus of Happy Birthday begins as Robin and Roland walk back into the room. Robin carries the cake with both palms flat against the bottom of the platter, candles burning bright in the darkened room as Roland skips along in front of him until he reaches her seat and can climb up into her lap. Once the cake is in front of her, the two of them continue the song, and Regina can feel herself grinning from ear to ear.

Haaaapy birthdaaaay toooo yoooou.

“Happy birthday, Regina, make a wish.” Robin tells her.

“Yeah! Make a wish, R’gina!”

Her eyes twinkle up at Robin, shifting to Roland’s big brown ones, and over to the chocolate frosted cake before her. What else could she possibly wish for? She’s already gotten the best birthday present she could have ever hoped for, having this man and his child in her life, the affection and dare she think it, love, they give her. There’s nothing else that she wants. Still, she closes her eyes, silently thinking of her wish before opening them and sucking in a breath to blow out the candles, Roland exclaiming that he wants to help too while they jointly blow the flickering flames out.  

Robin walks back over to the switch on the wall and turns the lights back up, grinning at her. That’s when Regina is first able to get a good look at the cake they’ve made and her delight with the whole ritual rises several notches. The entire thing is generously decorated with brightly colored strips of icing. Her and Roland and Robin all standing together holding hands. They’re all wearing birthday hats and balloons float around the edges. A shakily written Happy Birthday in Roland’s large and blocky lettering.

“I drew it for you and Daddy helped.”

Regina's eyes sparkle as she tightens her arms around Roland's waist and gives him a little squeeze. “Thank you, Roland. I love it.”

His tiny little dimples wink out in his cheeks as he grins and bounces in her lap. “Can we eat it now?”

Laughing, Regina nods and watches as Robin shifts the cake closer to him, cutting into the dessert and squaring off several pieces. One for each of them and transferring them to plates, handing one to Roland and one to her.

She digs her fork into the fluffy chocolate, scooping up a corner of the cake and plopping it into her mouth, moaning at the taste. Robin watches her, grinning at her enjoyment, before starting on his own slice. Roland is already well on his way to devouring his portion, causing both of the adults to laugh.

There are only a few crumbs left on each of their plates when Roland gasps and turns his attention to his father. “We forgot R’gina’s present!”

Robin chortles. He hasn't forgotten anything. In fact, he has several things to give Regina still. But the one is from both of them and Robin gives Roland a wide eyed look of shock. “So we have. Do you want to go get it for her?” He nods rapidly and then darts down from her lap to race up the stairs.

“You did not have to get me anything. You've already done more than enough to make tonight special for me.”

Shaking his head, Robin tells her wryly, “The night is not over yet, milady.”

It isn't long before Roland is dashing back into the room carrying a rectangular shaped packaged wrapped in a pretty red and gold striped paper. He holds it out to her proudly and Regina takes it gingerly, smiling at him when he shuffles onto Robin’s lap. Matching sets of dimples grinning at her as she begins to open it.

Her heart aches in the most pleasant of ways when she flips it around to see what it is. A picture frame. One of the ones with multiple slots. There's a photograph of the three of them from Christmas Day, sitting in front of the lit up Christmas tree, Roland in Regina's lap with Robin's arm wrapped around her shoulder as she leans into him. She loves this picture. Beneath it there are two smaller photos that they’d taken over the last month. One of her and Roland, Regina pressing a kiss to his cheek as he laughs and another of Robin doing the same to her. Her eyes water at the sight of them and she beams up at the pair of them.

“Thank you. This is wonderful. I know exactly where I can hang it.”

“Yay!” Roland exclaims, pumping a tiny fist into the air. “It was Daddy's idea but I helped put the pictures in.”

Regina smirks. “You did a fabulous job.” When her gaze shifts to Robin's the look in his eyes is enough to halt the breath in her lungs. It's filled with so much affection and joy that she actually experiences the sensation of her heart falling over a cliff. At the rate they are going she's likely to find find herself head over heels in love with him, the both of them, before too much longer.

Mouthing a silent, thank you, to him, he nods and then tickles Roland's side, making the boy squirm as he informs him it's time to clean up if they are going to still watch their movie before bedtime.

This time Regina insists they let her help, won't hear a word otherwise, so she and Roland roll up their sleeves and dig into the water filling the sink. She dumps a generous portion of dish soap into the water that forms a heap of bubbles, rising up to the rim.

Robin spends the entire time laughing both at and with the pair of them as the act of cleaning turns into an all out bubble war between Regina and Roland. Each of them tossing globs at the other, landing on Regina's nose and in Roland's curls. Though Robin isn't spared either as he stands a few steps away dutifully loading plates and utensils into the dishwasher. Regina turns her focus to him, determination etched over her face as he holds up his hands in surrender. It does him little good however as she pulls her arm back and throws bubbles at him, landing directly over the eye he just barely manages to squeeze shut and results in another round of giggles from Regina and Roland.

Eventually they managed to get everything clean and dried and Roland runs off to the living room to pull out the DVD while Robin tosses a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Regina distracts him against the counter as the kernels begin popping with light, teasing kisses to the side of his neck. She has him trapped between her body and the cabinets at his back, their hips pressed together. A place Robin is more than happy to be.

Sucking at his pulse point, enjoying the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he gulps, Regina murmurs, “I'm having a lovely birthday.” Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck as her nose runs over his skin before she tips her head back to look at him. “Thank you. You reminded me what this feels like.”  

His own hand slips into her hair, scratching blunt nails along her scalp. “How what feels like?”

“Being happy.” Regina answers almost shyly.

Capturing her lips in a soft kiss, Robin mutters in reply, “You're welcome. It is my great pleasure to make you happy, Regina Mills.”  

Roland's anxious voice calls from the other room, asking what's taking so long, just as the microwave beeps and they part from each other. Laughing. Both feeling light and airy.

When they walk into the living room, hand in hand, Roland's already in position in the middle of the couch, the menu for Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory displayed on the screen, remote in hand. Robin sets the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table and they take a seat on either side of the little boy.

They settle in, watching the frantic search for the golden ticket. It's the original version with Gene Wilder and Regina appreciates that little detail, that Robin is exposing his son to a classic. It brings back memories of her own childhood, watching this very movie with her father and she has a moment of nostalgia, not quite as painful as it has been or how she would have expected it to be. Not when Roland is snuggled into her side and Robin's fingers play lazily with the ends of her hair as they watch the story unfold.

It's cozy and comfortable and one of the best birthdays Regina has ever had, surprisingly enough. Although it probably shouldn't be. Robin has a way of surprising her like no one else. It's rather refreshing.

Regina agrees to help put Roland to bed when the credits finally roll and Charlie and his grandfather and Willy Wonka fly off into the sky. As Roland sleepily trades his jeans and sweater for a soft cotton pajama set with arrows over it, Regina stands in the doorway watching him and Robin. She's roped into reading him a story, not that she puts up much of a fight. None actually.

His eyes have dropped shut and his is breathing slow and even by the time she shuts the book and smiles at Robin over his head where he’s sitting on the edge of the other side of Roland's toddler bed. He jerks his chin toward the hallway and Regina nods in agreement.

Just as she's about to leave, placing a light kiss to Roland's forehead, his tiny voice mutters so softly she barely hears it, “Did ya have a good birfday party?” His words are slurred sleepily and they make Regina chuckle.

But she answers him anyway, replying, “Yes, Roland. I had a wonderful party. Thank you.” And with that he's out like a light.

Regina retreats as quietly as possible into the hallway, shutting the door behind her and turning to find Robin beaming at her.

“So we managed to make your birthday a special one then?”

She nods, loops her arms around his neck and kisses him. They stay like that for awhile, trading lazy kisses, letting them deepen into something more, a bit needier. Robins teeth nip at her bottom lip, biting into it and drawing a loan moan out of her. He chases it with his tongue.

Breaking away he states a bit breathlessly, “I have one more thing for you.”

Regina lets out an exasperated sigh. “Robin, you already got me something. I don't need anything else.”

He laughs, “Well I have it all the same. It's in the bedroom. Come open it?”

“Alright.” Following him to his room, Regina stands beside the dresser as he disappears into the closet for a moment, returning with a small package wrapped in the same paper as the other one, handing it to her with a nervous and pleased grin. “The picture frame really was enough. More than enough.”

“That was from Roland and I. This is from me. Just open it.”

Still side eyeing him, Regina shoves her finger beneath the seam of wrapping paper, easily ripping it until she's unwrapped a square box. It's obviously some sort of piece of jewelry and a mixture of nerves and anticipation skitter through her as she gently opens the lid. Then her breath catches at the sight of what lies within.

It's a gold necklace. A tiny post-it charm with a scripted engraving of a date. 12.24.16. She stares at it for what seems like forever before wide and touched eyes lift to meet his. “Robin—”

Grinning hopefully at her, he asks, “Do you like it?”

There's a touch of uncertainty to his voice and Regina is quick to assure him, “I love it! It's perfect. Where on earth did you find it?”

“Have you heard of this site called Etsy? It's a wonder.” The corner of his mouth twitches playfully and Regina laughs softly, smiling at him and then shifting her gaze back to the necklace. “I know it's a bit unusual, but I wanted to get you something that represented that night. A token that showcases how special it and you are have become to me.”

It’s so thoughtful, so like Robin that she struggles not to let her emotions overwhelm her. Pinching the clasp of the chain between her fingers, Regina lifts the necklace from the cushion it’s resting on, admiring the charm more closely before holding it out to Robin. “Will you put it on?”

Happy to oblige, beyond pleased that it seems like his gift was such a hit, Robin takes the chain from her, waiting as she spins around and pulls her hair to the side before he reaches around her to secure it around her neck. She turns back to him, smiling from ear to ear, a hand lightly touching the little golden post it before she’s spinning around to look in the mirror on the dresser. Bending forward to get a better look while wearing it.

Robin can’t help but take the opportunity to admire the way Regina’s ass looks in the dark wash skinny jeans. When her eyes meet his in the mirror with a knowing smirk, Robin merely shrugs. Caught. It’s not like she doesn’t know how attractive he finds her.

She turns back to face him, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love the necklace. It’s too much after all you’ve done, but I love it.”

“Good.” Robin states, reaching toward her, obviously having something else to say. “I know it wasn't the plan…” He interlocks his fingers with hers, swings their joined palms out and around until they resting between their bodies, pressed against each other's chests as they lean into one another. “But would you like to spend the night?”

The slight hesitance, mixed with the obvious desire for her to say yes is an irresistible combination and Regina grins at him. “I would. Though it means an early wake up call so I can swing by my place before work.”

“A small sacrifice.” Robin promises. And one that is more than worth it if it means he gets to fall asleep with her in his arms for another night.

Regina laughs, a glorious, happy sound that is music to Robin’s ears. “Then I’ll stay.”

He gives her one of his oversized t-shirts to sleep in and Regina slips into the soft and worn cotton material gratefully as it falls to the middle of her thigh. It smells like him. Like pine and fresh laundry. And she tucks her nose into the collar for a minute before she finishes up with her nightly routine, utilizing the extra toothbrush Robin’s left sitting beside his in the cup by the sink since New Year’s Eve. That first night she'd slept over.

When she exits the bathroom, he's already tucked in bed, the comforter bunched around his waist as he does something on his phone. But his gaze darts up when he hears her enter and he groans quietly. “I will never tire of seeing you in that.”

Chuckling at him and her own pleased reaction to his appreciative glances she pads softly over to the bed and climbs in under the covers, sliding over toward the center of the bed until she can feel Robin's body heat radiating off him.

“You ready for bed?”

“Mmhmmm,” She hums sleepily, angling her chin upward and waiting for a kiss. Both of them smiling into it when Robin chuckles and bends his head so their mouths meet before he reaches over to switch on the bedside light and they shift into a more comfortable position.

His nose is tucked into her hair, one arm draped over her waist as Robin cradles her in his arms, spooned behind her, and their breathing slows. Regina runs her fingers up and down his forearm for a few minutes before she whispers to him, “Thank you. For making this one of the best birthdays I've ever had. You and Roland.”  

Robin presses a kiss to the side of her neck, replying quietly, “It was our pleasure.” And with that they both settle and gently drift off to sleep.