Work Text:
There was just something so breath taking about the California sunset. The explosion of oranges, pinks and yellows fading into blue and navy. You had taken the dogs out after dinner, hoping that a long walk would tire them out and you’d be able to put in some time editing backlog projects. The sand is warm under your feet, your sandals tucked into your bag. While the dogs stop to investigate a ruined sandcastle, you pull your phone from your pocket, snapping a photo of the sun barely kissing the horizon.
Your fingers hesitate over the text thread before attaching it. Is it as pretty in the air as it is on land? You send it to Robert, biting your lower lip, almost instantly regretting sending it. Your text messages back and forth had been light, playful, but every time you hit send, your stomach exploded in a cloud of butterflies. Your phone had just slid into your pocket when it pinged.
The first photo he had sent was of him and Phoenix in their jet, expressions wide and happy. The second a skyscape with high enough elevation that you can see the curve of the horizon Bright blue clear sky, the sun rising. “This is from this morning.”
“If I could overcome my crippling fear of heights, I’d be unstoppable”. You find yourself smiling as you type, a bubble on his end coming up as soon as you hit send.
“Give me a couple photography lessons and I’d be more than happy to show you something beautiful.”
You walk as you text, the dogs behaving on leash for once. There are small clusters of people watching the sunset, others still playing in the sand soaking in the last bit of sunshine they can. The surf crashes gently, the breeze ruffling your clothes. It’s peaceful and quiet, and the butterflies in your belly quieted. You whistle softly, getting the dog’s attention before snapping a photo of them and sending it to your aunt. You can hear a game of some sort to your right, closer to the water, and when you glance that way, you can see a group of men and two footballs. The dogs are instantly interested in the playful yelling and the way they’re tumbling all over each other. You’re trying to get their attention back on you when you hear someone shout.
“Heads up!”
A football sails through the air, headed directly toward you. Somehow you manage to wrangle the dogs and yourself out of the way, the football landing in the sand right next to you. A man in shorts and a t-shirt jogs your way, coming up short. “Sorry about that.” The build, the voice, and when you blink in defense of the harsh backlighting of the setting sun you realize who is speaking.
“Robert?”
He rubs the back of his neck, “Hey.” He’s got the ball in his hand, and he looks over his shoulder at the bickering men behind him.
“What are you guys playing with two balls?”
There’s a wickedness to his grin, tossing the football from hand to hand. “Dogfight football, it’s something our instructor came up with to build teamwork.”
“Teamwork?”
“You know what happens when a bunch of personalities get together.” He shrugs, “we’ve started getting together when things get a little tense.”
“Everything okay?” You step closer, shading your eyes and looking up at him.
“Work things,” he says. “I like the photo you sent me.” He glances over his shoulder when someone calls for him. He waves them off, turning back to you with a sheepish grin. “Still want to come out with me tomorrow night?”
“Yeah,” you grin at him, stepping closer. “Looking forward to it.”
He moves to hug you, and pauses, “I’m sweaty so…”
You hug him, anyway, feeling his strong arms wrap around you. He’s warm and breathing a little heavy, you can nearly feel his muscles vibrating under your touch. He tips your chin up, his thumb brushing your lower lip. Your heart thumps hard behind your ribs and his gaze is heavy and intense. His lips brush your temple before he’s pulling away.
Only to lose his balance, his full weight slamming into you. To keep both of you upright you overbalance, the sand sliding under your feet as you hit the ground. The dogs bark happily, playing with each other, tangling the leashes around the two of you further. Robert shifts above you, bringing his weight to his forearms, bracing above you. His chest heaves against yours and all you can hear is the wild thumping of your heart. Your hips are pinned to his, and it makes heat spiral deliciously through you.
“I’m so sorry.” You say. Your face is against his neck and when your lips brush over his pulse point, he shivers. You can feel it work through him, on top of you.
“Your dogs are menaces,” He laughs softly, “I can’t be mad at them, this isn’t a bad position to be in.” He's moving, trying to get untangled and it’s not helping how hot you are, or the ache that’s blooming in your lower stomach.
Somehow you manage to get untangled, and he’s pulling you to your feet. “You alright?” He’s helping you brush sand from your clothes, when two more men walk up. One you recognize as Rooster, the other is tall, tan and built like a Greek statue.
“Bobby, you gotta buy the girl a drink before you do that.” He picks up the discarded football. Rooster’s kneeling in the sand hands all over the dogs who wiggle and climb over each other to get to him.
“He’s already bought me dinner, so it’s alright.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Robert looks toward the sky; Rooster hides a grin in the neck of one of your dogs. “You must be Hangman?” Another easy smile, a flash of white teeth and he’s offering you, his hand. “Bob here hasn’t said anything about you.”
“Thank you for the restaurant recommendation,” You change course, shaking his hand. “They really do have the best cannoli.” You shamelessly had eaten them for breakfast this morning, much to the horror of your aunt, who had found you hunched over the kitchen sink shoveling them into your mouth
As handsome as he is, he isn’t subtle and the look that passed between him and Rooster spoke volumes. “I’m glad you liked them.” HIs voice is even, smooth, all too entirely practiced. “Rooster tells me you and our Bobby go way back.”
You find yourself staring at Robert’s back as he’s stepped between you and Hangman. “She’s walking her dogs, not facing down an interrogation.”
“You’re an enigma Bob, you can’t blame us for wanting to know more about you.”
“Drop it.”
You close your eyes tight, grounding yourself, recognizing that tone. “It’s fine.” You place your hand on his shoulder, and he glances at you. “I’m not worth it.” Pulling gently on the dogs’ leads you start back the way you came, deliberately ignoring the way Robert’s jaw clenched.
-------------------------------------------------
The quiet of night had begun to creep in around the houses and cars that lined the street by the time you made it home. You reach for the latch on the gate, frowning when it gives under your fingertips. Tightening your grip on the leads, you head toward the dark house. The door isn't completely latched, your stomach sinking. You licked your lips, throat dry, feeling your heart race.
“Auntie?” You nudge the door open with your toe. “Auntie, are you home?” Leaning down, your hand trembles, unclipping the lead of one of the dogs. “Go get her,” you whisper, letting one of the dogs into the house. You watch as Perry slinks into the house, low to the ground, ears flat on her head. You don’t hear anything, so you push the door open a bit more.
You reach for your phone, turning it on. You ignore the text messages and pull up a call with the emergency number ready to dial. When you cross the threshold, you turn on the overhead light to find the room in shambles. Furniture is overturned, the coffee table broken, potted plants tossed to the ground, shattered, dirty scattered everywhere. You whistle for the Perry, calling her back to you, reattaching her lead to her collar.
Stepping back onto the porch, you call the police. Then your aunt, whose phone goes to voice mail. You call her a few more times, then start down the list of her friends trying to track her down. You try again and again, each message getting a bit more frantic until you’re just calling and hanging up before it goes to her inbox.
Your phone rings, and you pick it up without looking at the caller id. “Where are you?!”
“What’s wrong?” Robert’s voice, not your aunt’s, answers you.
“I can’t talk Robbie,” You’re hanging up on him before he can finish what he says next.
The street is awash in red and blue lights as patrol cars roll up to the house. One cop takes your statement as two more go through the house. You hear another car pull up, and in your periphery a blue bronco parks behind one of the cop cars. You’re vaguely aware of four people scrambling out of it and coming toward the house.
Once you’ve given your statement and the officer is heading toward the house, you feel your legs buckle, and you sit down rather quickly and hard on the concrete. Breathing is difficult, your chest tight, the heel of your hands scrubbing against your eyes hard enough that you see starbursts behind your lids.
A low, quiet voice says your name, and you look up from your hands. Robert is crouching next to you, his hand resting lightly on your knee.
“Look at me, Sweet.” His fingers rest under your chin, eyes locked on yours. “Just me,” that tone slides up the back of your neck, sending tingles running through you. “Exhale,”
You do, and the knot in your chest loosens slightly.
“Again.”
You nod and inhale slowly, exhaling once more. “I can’t get a hold of her.”
“One step at a time,” he murmurs. “The cops are here, and they have access to things that you don’t.” He rises to his full height, pulling you up, his arm landing around your waist. You realize your hands are empty and you look over to find Rooster and Phoenix playing with the dogs as Hangman’s talking to a cop.
“How, why?”
“You actually called me a couple times.” He says. “I got worried, so I came to see if you were okay.”
“You brought them?”
A small shrug, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hip slowly. “Rooster brought us to the beach, so I needed him to bring me, and they jumped at the chance to come be big damn heroes.”
You choke out a laugh despite yourself. “You’re quoting Firefly at me?”
He pulls you closer, “You should ask Rooster what the chain of command is.” His weight shifts, placing himself between you and the approaching officer.
“The house is empty. We can have an officer wait outside and observe in case anyone comes back, or we can escort you somewhere if you’d feel safer.”
“What about her aunt?” Robert asked.
“We’re looking into the information that she gave us.”
Robbie glances at you, “Do you want to go?”
You shake your head, “I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I’d like to be here if—when she comes home.”
“We’ll have someone parked across the street then.” The officer tucks a notepad into his pocket. “I will be in contact with any further information about your aunt.” He’s headed back up the walkway giving orders to the other officers.
“Do you want the rest of them to stay?” Robert asks you.
“You’re staying?”
He nods, “yeah, someone should stay up with you for when your aunt comes home.” His hand brushes against your arm lightly, before he’s stepping away. You watch as he walks over to Rooster, the two of them having a quiet conversation. The others leave a little while after the police do.
You’re left with Robert, and your thoughts. You hug yourself, arms tight around your midsection, chest tight, mind racing. Your legs feel weak, finding it hard to pull a full breath. You startle when there’s warmth at your back, Robert’s arms circling you, pulling you tight against his chest. His chin rests on the top of your head, his breathing slow and even.
“Do you want to go inside?” His voice is low, vibrating in his chest. When you shake your head, he squeezes you tighter. “Come on then.” He’s letting go, one of his hands taking yours. You’re led to the porch swing. He sits, pulling you between his legs, your body resting on his. Your head resting against his chest, his heartbeat strong and solid under your cheek. He keeps ahold of your hand, his other hand sliding slowly up and down your back.
“Can you tell me what’s going on?” He asks after a while. The dogs are nearby, curled up in a furry pile.
“I told you Jarrod’s in the wind.” You say quietly. “He’s been giving auntie a hard time, and she’s noticed things missing around the house. Small at first, and then money started disappearing from her wallet—her bank account. Mom thought that having someone else in the house would deter him.”
“Remind me, he’s not actually related to you guys, is he?”
“No, he’s the kid of one of auntie’s friends, and when his mom kicked him out, auntie took him in.”
“Mmhm.” He nuzzles your shoulder. “You know we’ll have to go inside at some point.”
“I know.”
His lips brush your temple. “Why did you say you’re not worth it when Seresin was running his mouth?”
“I don’t know if we should have this—”
He says your name, and it’s so soft his voice cracking. “We can have it now. There’s nothing here but the dark and the waves.”
“I hurt you, Robbie.”
“We hurt each other.” He says breaking the quiet. “I didn’t go after you when you left.” He takes a deep enough breath that you rise and fall in time with it. “It’s something I regret every damn day.”
Your eyes burn, feeling the tightness in your throat returning. “And then I just walked right into your hospital room.”
“I cannot tell you how many times I’ve wanted you to walk through a door and back to me.”
“We can’t start over.” You murmur. “But I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of your kiss.”
“Again, Perry is a menace.” His hand still against your back. “We can’t start over, but we can learn from what we had then, and what we want now.”
“What do you want Robbie?” “The only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
“My momma’s apple pie?”
“I don’t know who’s more of a menace. Your dog or you in the kitchen.”
“You’re deflecting.” You lift your head to look at him. He’s watching you, eyes half lidded, a slight smile on his face. “I asked you what do you want?”
“You,” he says simply, eyes closing. His jaw clenches, his head tipping back to rest against the railing of the swing. “In whatever capacity I can spend time with you.” He swallows hard, throat bobbing.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“You wouldn’t have taken the job. I want to be with you Sweet, but I’m not going to hold you back.”
You sit up, moving to sit properly on the swing. “I didn’t get a choice?”
“You had the opportunity of a lifetime. I wasn’t going to stand in your way.”
“No, you can’t do that Robert. You don’t get to make that kind of a choice for someone.” You rub at your eyes, tears threatening to spill over. “We can figure something out.”
“Can?”
“That wasn’t a friend kiss last night.” You mutter, “that was something that I’ve missed every day for four fucking years.” You look up at the sky, feeling your eyes burn even more. “I wanted it from when you showed up on my doorstep in the morning.” You choke out a laugh, “hell I wanted it when I saw you in the hospital. It didn’t matter that Rooster and Phoenix were in the room. I needed to make sure you were real.”
His hand rests on your knee, squeezing it softly. “I’m still here.”
“Why didn’t you change the contact? If you were so willing to let me leave.”
He's quiet, the sound of his breathing buzzing in the back of your mind. “If I removed you, it would have meant that there wasn’t anything left of me that belonged to you.” The swing groans when he shifts his weight. “I let you walk away with my heart. I couldn’t let go of your name on a form.” The quiet drawl is back, words slurring together slightly.
“You loved me that much?” Your heart is threatening to burst through your ribcage.
“Love.” He says.
Time slows, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. There’s the prickle of stubble under your fingertips when they land on his jaw, siding into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His mouth is warm and pliant under yours, the low sound that comes from him makes you shift closer. Robbie’s hands land on your hips, and you’re straddling his thighs; one hand tight in his hair the other flat on his chest. You’re losing yourself in the kiss, shivering when the warmth from his hand brushes under the hem of your shirt. You nod and his hands slide up your spine, his palms spreading heat across your skin.
“Robbie,” the urge to drop fully into his lap is slowly overwhelming you. His hands curve around your sides, those long fingers resting on the skin just under your breasts. “I want…” You arch under his hands, and his lips twitch upward.
“Yeah?” His voice is so soft. When you nod, he lifts your shirt up and off, setting it on the swing next to you. The cool air and the heat of his gaze makes you shiver, goosebumps raising on your skin as his fingers brush along your ribcage. He moves under you, adjusting you in his lap. Kisses land on your neck, and your fingers thread through his hair, when he sucks small patches of your skin. “Your heart is beating so fast.” His lips brush against your collar bone, tongue darting out to lick the swell of your breast. He touches you as if you’re delicate and precious, your name whispered tenderly, his cheek against your chest, arms sliding around your waist to hold you closer to him.
He's so solid, warm and present under you. Hesitantly, you shift closer, rolling your hips against his, biting your lip when Robert groans. His hands flex as he holds you, trembling slightly when they release. His breath pants against your shoulder, face returning to your neck, mouth moving over heated skin. Robbie’s so hard, his hips rocking up to meet yours as you move against him. It sends shocks through you, warmth pooling low in your belly. Every part of you is on fire and he’s only stoking the flames. You fit together so well, and it’s getting to the point where you can’t tell where you end, and he begins.
“You feel so good.” You don’t recognize your voice, and he rumbles his agreement against the curve of your neck. His hand drops between you, and you feel the press of his palm between your legs. It makes your brain go blissfully blank, just the pressure of his touch over your shorts.
“So warm,” He purrs against your ear, “let’s go in the house. Need to find out how wet you are for me.”
There was the duality of Robert that you craved. He was gentle, sweet, reserved—until his eyes were blown with desire, lips swollen from kisses, breath coming in ragged pants. He would hold you as if you were made of spun sugar, whispering the filthiest promises against your skin. He could take you apart piece by piece and have you forgetting everything but his name, and how he made you feel, only to put you back together with lazy soft kisses and quiet conversation in the dark.
You reach for your shirt, putting it back on, and regretfully untangling yourself from him. “Come on then Robbie,” he takes your hand and lets you lead him to the couch. Rounding the corner, you pull up short, Robert colliding with your back. Your aunt is making her way up the stairs to the porch and looks up when she sees the two of you.
“Where have you been?” The question is out of your mouth, more accusatory than you expected.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” she says a wide grin splitting her face. “I was playing bridge with the girls, and time got away from me.”
“I called you. A lot.”
“I left my phone here.” She says, “Is there something wrong?”
“I came home from walking the dogs and someone had gotten into the house.” The reality of the evening hit you once more, and you let go of Robbie’s hand. “I couldn’t get ahold of you, and I thought something happened.”
Your aunt frowns, “I’ll call Jarrod in the morning, he must have misplaced his housekey.” Her keys jingle when she pulls them from her purse. “Are you staying tonight Robbie-boy?”
“I was going to help with the cleanup and camp out on the couch.” Robert says.
You follow your aunt inside. The three of you make short work of the mess, and soon she’s heading upstairs. Robert is kicking his shoes off and crossing over to you. Gentle fingers tip your chin up, and he kisses you sweetly. “Go get some sleep. I’ll be down here keeping watch.”
“You could come upstairs?”
He shakes his head. “You’re not thinking clearly,” another soft kiss to your cheek, then one to your forehead. He toes off his shoes and turns to sit on the couch. He grins at you, before he’s putting his glasses on the coffee table, tucking a pillow against the arm of the couch, before he’s laying back. “Go try to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.”
You glare at him, a little frustrated, but a smile playing on your mouth. “I care so much about you.” You turn off the light when he folds his hands over his chest, eyes closed. “You’ll be okay down here?”
“I’ll be just fine.” His voice is heavy with sleep, and you hear him turn over on the couch. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
You stay on the bottom step for a little while, listening to his breathing, so even and slow. Your fingers itch to smooth the hair from his forehead, to sit on the floor next to the couch and just watch him completely at ease. Stuffing the urges down, you climb the stairs and close the bedroom door behind you.