Chapter Text
You stretch when you get out of the truck. The ride was just as bumpy as you remember it being the last time Robert took you up here. It's been… God, half a year? Six months since Amanda’s graduation party, since the day he told you that he still had some things to figure out before he could get involved in anything romantic with you. Six months since you told him that, if he was ever ready, he knew where to find you.
Even though there's always been a part of you that has desperately wanted for the process to speed up, for him to come knocking on your door and kiss you as soon as you open it, you like to think you've been a damn good friend. Whenever he needs to talk to someone, needs a drinking buddy, needs to get out of the city and drive and wants some company, you've been there. Because you care about him. Because he's important to you.
The two of you walk around to sit on the bed of the truck. The lights of the city sparkle in defiance of the forest’s dark shadows. The last time he took you up here was the second time you hung out with him, the night you two saw that… thing. The thing you thought might be the Dover Ghost, the thing you told yourself was just someone illegally dumping their garbage. There's no sign of that thing now.
Robert hasn't said anything for fifteen minutes. You try not to stare; you wonder if he's going to start whittling again, if maybe he's coming up with some awful story meant to mess with you, or if maybe he really does just want someone to sit and look at the city with. You're content with whatever his motivations are. This time, you aren't afraid he's going to stab you and harvest your internal organs. You've gotten mostly used to his… uh, humor? He still gets you sometimes. The guy has watched one too many war documentaries. His mind is a weird place, but God, he's still so… you aren't sure what the word is. Entrancing? That sounds lame. Interesting? That's better, but it doesn't really take everything about him into consideration. You repress a sigh. Is it even possible to describe him as anything other than, like, a rugged lone wolf? That's basically what he is.
“Hey, Robert?” you ask. “Are you a werewolf?”
He looks at you. His face is unreadable. He nods once and said, “Yes. I'm a werewolf and I'm building up your trust so I can bring you out here under a full moon and eat you alive.”
“Called it,” you say. “I haven't stopped eating junk food, you know. I've never stopped preparing for the day you inevitably kill me to get something from my corpse. You're gonna regret it.”
He shrugs. “I'm not picky. Dead flesh is dead flesh, buddy.”
You laugh. “Might not think so after you've bitten into this mess.” You yelp and jump when he suddenly leans over and nips at your ear. “Whー?!”
He's the one laughing now, tilting his head back and holding his stomach. “You can be pretty cute, you know that?” he says between laughs. “That was great. I don't regret it one bit.”
You hold your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. You know you're blushing like hell. What even was that? You've, admittedly, come pretty close to sleeping with him a couple times, but there’s always been a specific kind of mood when that happens. This just… came out of nowhere. God. He's too much. “That was mean,” you whine. “The hell, man?”
He continues to grin. “Ah, don't mind me. I'm just an old man lookin’ for a good time.”
“You aren't old ,” you say. You let go of your ear and hope he doesn't attack again. He really went all the way with that werewolf gag, didn't he?
“Well, I ain't young,” he replies. “Haven't been for a few years now.”
“Don't worry about it. You're fine.” You won't take your eyes off of him now that he's bitten you. Maybe he's waiting for you to turn into a werewolf, too. “You, uh, you look really good. So it's not a big deal.”
“Mmm. Always knew you were hopelessly attracted to me.”
You roll your eyes and let silence descend. When he makes no move to bite you again, you look back out over the city. You're hit with a sudden wave of loneliness. You have good friends, sure, but you remember that your house is empty. Amanda isn't home anymore. You didn't think having an empty nest would be as hard as it is. You trust her and you know she's a good kid and she’s okay out there, but… you're never gonna stop worrying about her. She's your little girl. She's been texting you and sending you pictures all the time, but it just isn't the same as having her at home.
While you and Amanda have been growing slightly apart as she makes her way in the world, Robert and Val have been making amends. From what you understand, their relationship is still a bit rocky, but they've been making it work. There's been more visits, more phone calls. And, unlike that night when he told you about her and how his wife died and all of that, he doesn't cry when he talks about her. He even smiles more often. He's doing surprisingly well these days, and, God, it's so nice to see him happy. He doesn't just sit around and wallow in misery and regret. He doesn't drink as much as he used to. Hell, he even showers every single day. If that isn't progress, nothing is.
You hear him shifting beside you. You look over, ready to defend your ear if need be, but he doesn't look poised to attack. He's reaching into his jacket. Probably to pull out a knife or something. You're pretty sure that he isn't going to harvest your organs, at least not this time, so you aren't overly concerned.
He takes out a piece of wood, already whittled down into a little figure. You still don't know how he keeps so much stuff in that jacket, but that thought is put on hold the when he hands the figure to you. You're about to ask what it is when you realize that it looks an awful lot like what Robert said the Dover Ghost looked like that time when he was messing with you that first time you came out here. You smile.
“This is really cool, wow,” you say, looking over at him. He's still looking out over the city, though you can tell he's wearing an expression he doesn't normally wear. “Thanks for showing me. Sorry I made fun of whittling that one time.”
He shakes his head. “That happened awhile ago. Don't worry about it. And I made it for you. It's a gift.”
A… gift? You feel your face heating up. “Really? You actually made this for me?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I… look, I'm not really good at this kind of thing. I brought you out here to say that I'm just about as good as I'm gonna get. I've still got feelings for you, you know. You said that if I was ever ready for more than friendship, I'd know where to find you. I'd like to take you up on that if the offer’s still open.”
You struggle to keep your jaw from dropping. Is this really happening? Finally? Finally ? “Are you serious or are you messing with me?”
He looks over at you. “I'm serious as death. I wouldn't mess with you about this.” He leans closer, voice low and attractive. “So are we gonna do this or not?” He doesn't smell like whiskey the way he used to; now he's all leather and cologne. God… ugh, God, he smells good.
You find yourself inching closer to him. You swallow hard and nod. “Absolutely,” you say. “I'd love that. I've been waiting for you.”
You aren't sure if he's grinning or smirking, but it's, well, really hot. Also a little intimidating. But mostly hot. The next thing you're aware of is his lips against yours, one of his calloused hands cupping your face. You manage to keep your wits about you long enough to set the wood carved Dover Ghost to the side before you're going all in, moaning softly and losing track of time. You're pretty sure this might be the first night you sleep with him.
You are incredibly okay with that.