Chapter 2: Lífið er svo létt
Robbie threw a machine against the wall in a rage.
"THIS IS RIDUCULOUS!" he screamed, and another half-finished chunk of machinery met its doom against the wall. The original device was utterly useless now, all the parts melted together. And for the life of him he could not make another. He grabbed a piece of cake and flopped down onto his chair. He needed time to think. He scooped out a chunk with a fork and was about to enjoy the wonderful sugary taste-
"That much cake is bad for you, you know."
Robbie yelled and the cake went flying, to land in a messy pile somewhere. One hand over his chest, he looked around frantically, only to have the damnable sports elf drop down from the ceiling in front of him.
"Are you trying to kill me?!" Robbie hissed angrily. Sportacus bounced on his feet lightly.
"No," he answered simply. "I was just… around. And I thought I'd drop by."
Robbie's eye twitched as he tried to hang on to the thought, suspicion rather, that Sportacus was lying and actually came into his house because of that stupid "pull" he felt. But as hard as he tried, the thought melted away and the only thing left was the statement, which had to be true.
Robbie swore, somewhere deeper in his mind, that he would never ever invent something so dangerous again.
"Yeah, well," he muttered, still upset that he wasn't able to call Sportacus a liar. "What do you want?"
Sportacus hummed in thought for a moment. "Nothing, really." he finally replied, picking up a random piece of machinery and examining it.
"Don't touch that!" Robbie snarled.
"Why?"
"Because it's mine, you inconsiderate clod!"
Sportacus had opened his mouth to say something, but he abruptly paled.
"I…"
Robbie looked at him oddly. What was wrong with him now?
"I didn't mean to…" Sportacus whispered, setting the object down and backing away from it, hands firmly by his sides like a reprimanded child. "I didn't mean to be inconsiderate, I'm sorry Robbie!" He looked close to tears. Robbie froze. This was… this was going to be horrible. Why the hell had he ever invented something so complicated?!
"I-it's fine," Robbie finally muttered. On top of actually believing that the man hadn't meant to, he just couldn't stand that teary-eyed look. He looked like a kicked puppy.
"It is?" Sportacus said, rubbing his eyes quickly and pulling himself together. He normally would have let Robbie's insults roll off him, but after what the man had done to him, the words shot straight through the defense he had up. He thought he was a hero, and heroes definitely weren't inconsiderate or anything like that. The one little sentence nearly tore him apart.
He hoped Robbie fixed this very soon.
"Yeah, it's fine," Robbie said, brushing popcorn off of his chair so he wouldn't have to look at the man. "You're… you're not inconsiderate. I just don't like people touching my stuff."
Sportacus grinned brightly, instantly cheered. He felt a tugging toward Robbie, and he automatically took a step forward. Robbie glanced up immediately, feeling the tug as well.
"Stay there," he said flatly. Sportacus looked conflicted.
"But…"
"No."
Robbie stood up from the chair and stomped over to the work bench he had been at five minutes before. He started hammering things in a seemingly random pattern.
Sportacus paced, restless, as he tried to keep from following the tension between them. The constant distraction of it had driven him to come down here, and he had hoped it would relax it at least a little if was closer. And it did, a little. But just knowing it was there was driving him insane.
He noticed in his pacing that he had gotten closer to Robbie. He glanced at the man (who was still hammering away at something), and at the floor space between them. He'd have to make sure he didn't get hit by any of the flying mechanical parts that surrounded Robbie, but that was simple enough… he took a step forward. Paused. Another step.
"I can feel that you know," Robbie commented dryly, not turning around. Sportacus frowned and went back to pacing back and forth, doing acrobatic tricks every few seconds.
Robbie, from that point, was so absorbed in fitting pieces of this new contraption together that he failed to notice the very gradual relaxing of the tension that connected him to the other man. He was concentrating so hard on it he failed to notice anything was wrong until Sportacus was practically against his back, and there was a sigh of relief from above his head. He stopped abruptly and set down the tools.
"Sportakook."
"Oh, come on! It feels better now, doesn't it?" It was a question, not a statement. Open to interpretation. He opened his mouth to say something when arms wrapped around his torso.
"Oh! This feels even better! Don't you think so Robbie?"
All that came out of the man was a strangled squeak.
"Does that mean yes or no?"
"It means put me down!"
Sportacus sighed regretfully and released him.
"It made the tension stop though," Sportacus pointed out.
"But it also required you touching me."
He started to ask 'is that bad?' but then thought better of it. Robbie was liable to snap at him, and anything the man said, even if he didn't really mean it, Sportacus would think he meant it. He huffed and started doing sit-ups next to Robbie's chair. Why did Robbie have to make everything so complicated?
Robbie eyed him distastefully.
"Can't you do that somewhere else?" Sportacus paused, then shrugged and continued. Robbie sneered and banged more heavily on the mess of wiring and metal in front of him. He wasn't actually trying to create anything at the moment. It was merely therapeutic at this point.
After several minutes passed, Sportacus had gone through multiple sets of nearly all of the exercise moves he could think of. He started humming to himself as he did some low-key stretches, getting bored. It was odd. If he moved more than six meters or so from Robbie, the tension came back, and the closer to Robbie he got, the better he felt. Even if the man was a split second away from throwing a fit.
"Stop humming!" Robbie finally snapped, whirling around in the swiveling chair to glare at Sportacus. Sportacus paused and looked at Robbie incredulously.
"What else am I supposed to do? There's nothing fun down here!" he protested. Robbie's eye twitched. Stupid, stupid sports elf…
"How about some music?" Sportacus suggested. Robbie grimaced. Noise. It figured the blue elf would want that.
"If it'll keep you quiet…" he finally relented, grudgingly picking up a remote control and pressing a button, before he turned back around to his machines. Sportacus jumped, startled, as a large set of speakers dropped down from the ceiling, jerking to a halt at about ear level.
Well, ear level to Robbie anyway. They were still over his head.
A mildly dark beat started thumping through them. Sportacus cringed slightly. He liked his music better, but he supposed it was too much to ask… he resumed doing exercise.
If he hadn't been so close to Robbie, he would have missed it entirely, and as it was he barely caught it in the first place. He paused and leaned closer to Robbie's back.
Was that singing coming from Robbie Rotten?
He couldn't help but sneak closer. The man wasn't bad at all, Sportacus thought, smiling and humming along very quietly. He caught Robbie's fingers drumming out the beat and he smirked. So the man did like to move after all. He had caught on to the words without realizing it, and started singing it with Robbie, who was still absorbed in whatever he was working on and not noticing.
The instant Sportacus synchronized with Robbie's song, there was a sharp snap! between them and he staggered forward, bumping into Robbie's chair.
"SHIT!" Robbie cursed loudly, snapping his hand away from the machine in front of him and cradling it to his chest.
"I'm sorry Robbie!" Sportacus apologized, trying to back away and finding that it was very uncomfortable to do so. In fact, there was a very strong urge to move even closer… Sportacus paused, unsure of what to do. Robbie stood up from the chair and stalked off, Sportacus following and asking what was wrong.
He followed Robbie into another room (it looked like a bedroom, but there was junk everywhere so he couldn't tell for sure) and watched as Robbie threw open a drawer with one hand, the other still against his chest. Sportacus moved closer, worried.
"Robbie, your hand…"
"Shut up!" Robbie snapped, beyond irritated. He pulled the first aid kit from the drawer and sat on the edge of his bed that wasn't cluttered with stuff. He popped it open and started rummaging through it.
"Did you get hurt? Let me help," Sportacus said and sat down next to him. Robbie sneered and tensed up, scooting away from him.
"I'll do it myself," Robbie grumbled, finally pulling his hand away from his chest and opening it from the fist it had been in.
There was a long gash along the palm, and it was bleeding. Sportacus thought his heart would stop.
"Let me help!" he pleaded, grabbing the gauze and disinfectant from Robbie. Robbie yelped in protest.
"No way! I don't want your help!"
Sportacus paused for a moment, considering. Well, he knew already that Robbie didn't want his help. That never changed anything anyway.
"Too bad," he said finally, grabbing Robbie's injured hand by the wrist. "You want me to help now."
Robbie cursed more loudly and violently than Sportacus had yet to hear in his lifetime, but didn't snatch his hand away. Only after Sportacus applied the disinfectant and wrapped his hand in bandages, did he notice the fine trembling going through Robbie at that moment. He looked up questioningly.
"Robbie? Hey, what's wrong? Does it still hurt?"
"Yes," he hissed, not even realizing he was willingly telling the blue elf the truth. Sportacus frowned slightly. He hated it when people were hurt or in pain. He recalled suddenly something that Stephanie had done for Ziggy when he got a scrape on his elbow from playing.
He lifted up Robbie's injured hand and gave the bandaged palm a quick kiss. Robbie stared at him with wide eyes.
"What…" he started. "What in the world was that for?"
"To make it feel better," Sportacus replied simply. Was Robbie totally unfamiliar with this practice? Thinking about it made him sad, suddenly. Everyone got hurt during their lives, but was Robbie so alone that he didn't even know people around here kissed hurts to make them feel better? Had no one ever done that around him before?
"You've never had anyone do that before?" he finally asked, keeping the concern out of his voice. Robbie paused, and a shielded look came over him. Sportacus barely noticed, it was so subtle. But he did notice. After a moment, Robbie seemed to decide to answer, and shrugged, shaking his head 'no' slightly, and looking at the other side of the room resolutely.
Another pang of sadness hit Sportacus. What kind of hero was he, if he wasn't going to make everyone happy? He gave Robbie's palm another kiss, and noticed when the man swung his gaze back around and eyed him suspiciously. Sportacus smiled at him.
"Twice the usual amount. To make up for it." he explained. Robbie's eyes widened for a split second before he regained his composure and snorted derisively, turning his head away. Sportacus stood up and started to back away, but paused. It felt bad to move away now, and he shivered.
Robbie, meanwhile, was trying his hardest to not miss the warmth that spread into his skin where the elf's hand had been around his wrist. It wasn't normal. He glared at a random piece of junk next to him, snatching it up quickly and throwing it against the wall. Sportacus jumped, startled.
"That stupid stupid machine wasn't supposed to have these side effects!" Robbie raged, kicking his feet like a frustrated child. Sportacus watched with mild alarm as Robbie picked something else up.
"Robbie!" he shouted, moving forward and automatically grabbing the man's wrists as he brought his arm back to throw the fragile looking bundle of wires and sheet metal against the wall.
"Let go!" Robbie screeched in fury, struggling to free his arms.
"No," Sportacus replied, holding him easily. "Not until you calm down. You'll hurt yourself throwing a fit like that."
Robbie seethed at him. He would hurt himself like this. But, did he care?
Not one damn bit.
He bit down on the elf's exposed bicep and was pleased when he yelped and let go in surprise. Robbie tried to bolt out of the grabbing distance of his rival, and got two long steps away before it slammed into him like a freight train and he very nearly collapsed, falling onto his knees, trembling and feeling sick. He dully heard Sportacus cry out and whimper behind him, and Robbie shakily turned his head.
Sportacus was curled on the floor, looking terrified.
"R-Robbie…" he managed to get out. "What is it d-doing?…" He clenched his eyes shut after that. This felt horrible.
Robbie was panting for breath. He didn't dare try and go any further away, because it was very likely that he'd pass out if he did. He grit his teeth, trying to keep tears at bay. It wasn't a physical hurt. It was something mental. It had to be because of the malfunctioning device earlier that day. But even if it wasn't physical, it still hurt. It hurt badly enough to make Robbie shakily turn back around, on his hands and knees, and slowly move forward.
The instant he started back in the direction of the blue elf, the strain eased, and he instinctually scrambled as fast as he could to the elf's side, and clung to him. Sportacus jerked, the sudden switch from pressure to pleasure startling him. Robbie made a contented sound without realizing it, and Sportacus felt something warm wash over him. He shuddered, feeling his muscles all relax, like he could melt into the floor. After the crippling pressure, this remarked difference was more than welcome. He sighed.
At that moment, Robbie was recovering his senses, and realized he was still clinging to Sportacus. He removed his hands, and scooted back an inch. He really wasn't planning on moving any further than he had to, but he had to keep up appearances, and he couldn't when he had his hands all over the man he was supposed to hate, clinging to him like a scared child.
Unfortunately, Sportacus caught the movement. He panicked and grabbed Robbie forcefully, crushing him against his body and rolling on top of him.
"Don't go!" he pleaded. Robbie shuddered, the renewed contact between them sending his brain into overdrive producing endorphins. He swallowed nervously.
"I can't," he admitted quietly. It was strange. He didn't even contemplate lying to the elf now. He looked straight into ice blue eyes that were wide and apprehensive. "I can't go anywhere."
Sportacus suddenly felt such a wave of feeling for the man that he didn't try to resist the urge to give him comfort. He leaned his head down and nuzzled the pale neck, wishing he could make it better. Robbie shivered.
"S… Sport. I need up… you're heavy…"
Sportacus sighed regretfully, and they slowly, carefully, shifted until they were standing up. As soon as they were, Sportacus latched onto Robbie from behind and refused to let go.
"I need to finish my work!" Robbie protested.
"I know," Sportacus countered. "But I can stay still like this. That will help, won't it?"
Robbie paused, considering.
"I suppose," he finally relented. Sportacus sighed in relief, and followed carefully as Robbie walked out of the room and back to his workbench.
"At least it'll keep you from knocking me into sharp objects," he muttered, fingering the bandage on his hand.
"I really am sorry about that…"
"Yeah I know."
He eyed the chair doubtfully. How was this going to work, with a short elf attached to his back? Sportacus decided for him, and picked him up by the waist. He sat down in the chair and placed Robbie on his lap, arms still firmly around his waist.
"Is… this going to work?" Robbie asked skeptically.
"Yes," he answered. "You're a lot lighter than you look. And that's saying something." Robbie sniffed in an insulted manner, but felt confidant. If Sportacus thought it would work, it would. He shivered slightly, picking up his tools.
The ray's effects were becoming more insidious.
AN:
Hmm. Not much to say about this chapter. However, I do have a warning for future chapters. No, there's not gonna be a lemon. The warning is that this thing gets very... twisted. I started it as something kind of heavy, but otherwise normal. and then just one day it took a nose-dive into my usual realm of dark writing. The warning is this: Robbie gets downright unstable and dark. Normally I like writing him as a little kid playing grownup. In this, he is almost completely unbalanced and bitter. You'll see in later chapters. I'm... strangely, almost proud of it. I'm one of those people who is attracted to chaos and darker things. So, I think this just bleeds into my writing from time to time.
And yet here I am watching LazyTown. What in the world is wrong with me?
But yeah, I wanted to warn you guys to heed the "Angst" descriptor. As far as I know, no one's ever done an angsty SportaRobbie, so I'm really pumped for this! Hero complexes are fun to work with!
