Four Times Robin Locksley Kissed Regina Mills
And one time she kissed him.
I don't know what this is. I been wanting to do something like this for a while and well this is what this is so yeah, I hope you like and tell me what you think and I might do more 'Multiple time' things.
They're sitting on the highest part of the play frame, legs swinging as the breeze from the sea whips around them. It's cold for February, too cold to be sitting around outside but Robin doesn't care.
Between he and Regina sits the left-overs of a birthday cake. It had been too big for them to eat alone and Robin's stomach hurt from too much icing. They'd managed to eat most of it so it wouldn't go to waste but now, even the smell is twisting his stomach up, and so it lays forgotten for the seagulls later.
Regina was seven today, but she wasn't happy. She'd wandered over to the park, the remnants of her cries still on her face and nervously Robin had climbed out of his hiding space, birthday cake behind his back as he tapped her on the shoulder, presenting the cake to her.
She'd smiled at the sight of it, a light in her eyes and Robin's insides had warmed up, a glow spreading through them as they climbed the frame and began eating the cake with their fingers, no thought for manners or cutlery in sight.
He stares at her now, that glow still running through his body, lighting everything up. Her tear stains have cleared now, made way for laughter and smiles. Now she just stares contently out at the sea, happy.
Robin bites his lip, eyes wandering across her face. He feels a bit silly but he's seen it done loads of times. Ignoring that feeling in his stomach, he reaches across the cake and kisses her on the cheek. It's fast, over before neither of them can realise it happened but he sees a blush across the cheek he just kiss, can probably guess he has a similar redness across his own as she eyes him shyly and all Robin can do is smile, that embarrassment being replaced by giddiness.
"Happy birthday, Regina."
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It's a stupid game. One that doesn't mean anything. And he should be enjoying himself, and he is, really he is, but there's something about this game. When Killian had suggested they play it, Robin had been the first to deny it, naturally he was overruled by all the others and now sits in a circle, a bottle in the middle, as it's his turn to spin it.
God, he hates this.
As the bottle spins, Robin's eyes jump from one person to the next, listing them as whether they'd be pleasant to kiss or not until his eyes linger on Regina. His best friend. The one person he loves but cannot have.
Don't let it be her.
Yet fate was never his friend and so when the bottle stops, it of course, points directly at Regina.
The same people holler and shout like they have done the past ten people before him but all Robin can do is gulp, they're eyes meeting and Robin's breathing growing heavier.
He's too drunk for this.
He breaks the eye contact when his gaze travels down to her lips and no, he's not too drunk for this.
He's wanted this for years and now it's came, he doesn't want it.
(Or more specifically doesn't want it to happen like this)
Still, a game is a game after all and chances are nobody, Regina and himself included, will remember it come morning so he leans over and they meet somewhere in the middle, they're lips touching just a little bit.
It's never stated how long you're supposed to kiss a person for. The hormonal bastards around them want it to go past a peck and the jealous bastards around them don't want it to go past a peck, but as far as Robin's concerned, neither he nor Regina are in some kind of relationship and well, if this is what it feels like to just press his lips against her, he's fine to maybe extend to tongues.
Or it would, if Regina wasn't pulling away, leaving him there trying to savour what little opportunity he had to kiss her. He opens his eyes, lip between his teeth as he takes in her demeanour now; all blush and shy smiles, cautious gaze as she eyes those people around her but there's something else there, too; a relief.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It was supposed to be a goodbye kiss, something to part with, something to have her waiting for next time, but it's turned into more of a continuation of what they've just done.
He presses her against the wall, their tongues tangling as their hands wander; her's up into his hair and his sliding over her curves and venturing down wards.
She's no longer just his best friend, no longer someone he longs for on the sidelines, watching others get to do what he's wanted to do for years. Now he can see her whenever he wants to and not feel like it'll be detrimental to their friendship, so kiss her he does. A lot.
Until she's pulling away, her head falling against the wall as Robin moves his kisses to her neck and she moans, saying; Maybe you should come back inside.
He's humming his agreement. Maybe he should, after all, alls that's waiting for him is a Regina-less dorm and well, he has a lot more kisses he wants to give her.
.:.:.:.:.:.:.
It's like the people around them disappear the moment his eyes land on Regina properly for the second time.
He steps that bit closer, hand moving up to touch her face as his thumb caresses her cheekbone. He loves her and he wants her- wants her forever. And this kiss will make that happen.
So he leans down, his tongue instantly tracing her lips as she parts them for him and Robin tries to pour as much love and want into that kiss as it finally marks her as his wife.
.:.:.:.:.:.
It's a blur of days. The same people coming and going. A collection of familiar voices. They never stay around for long, but they're back again in a few hours or so.
All except one.
She's with him every day, every hour, always there. Always talking. Or brushing back his hair or holding his hand. His mind is unsure who it is- the voice and touch is familiar, though- but his heart 100% knows. It's just his heart can't tell his brain and perhaps that's why she's only familiar.
There are passes of a life he had; cold playgrounds and drinking games. Heated kisses and heated fights. It sends a warmth through him, a glow, even the essence of the fights he and his love- the woman still beside him he guesses- had.
Her head is right beside his, he can smell her hair; apples and home. He wants to go home, wants to go back to his life before he came here. He's not sure where here is exactly just knows that it's not his home.
"Please come back to me..." she whispers and her voice his so soothing, familiar (he's said that already hasn't he?) and everything just makes so much more sense when her lips touch his; the softness and the warmth of them.
He may not know his love anymore but he'll always know the kisses.