He wakes up with Regina in his arms, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. It's sweet, intimate, and they really should talk, but her hand is travelling down and down until she grasps where he's woken up hard. Her lips sink into his neck as her hand strokes him firmly, and he breathes out an oh fuck that quickly becomes a mantra as she bites a path down his torso and takes him in her mouth.
It takes an embarrassingly short time for him to reach his peak, something she smiles smugly over. She's earned it, that was incredible. But he's intent on wiping that smirk from her face, and sets his sights on getting her off as fast as possible. The talking can wait, he's on a mission here.
As he takes his first taste of the morning, he groans; he missed this, missed her. He loves the taste of her, even mixed with remnants of sweat and him from a long night of fucking.
Christ, last night was one of the best experiences of his life. Once his lips hit hers he was a goner, was aching for it, for her, needed to feel that connection again. God, it was so hard to hold on, to hold back for her, but the feeling of her coming on him was well worth it.
He'd meant to pull out, had wanted to bring her up over and over, but the need had consumed him, and he'd exploded inside her in a rush of white hot bliss.
He hadn't let that stop him though, had taken her to his bed and done exactly as he is now, had fucked her with his tongue, tasted himself on her, something he thought he'd be grinning and bearing, but actually found surprisingly hot—a tangible reminder of how they'd just fucked and how good it had felt.
Now, just as then, he loses himself to her, sucking, then licking, fingers thrusting as she starts to curl in on herself, her hand clutched in his hair, pushing him more firmly against her.
He feels the second she starts to come, feels her tighten and spasm against his fingers, her clit pulsing between his lips.
Then he keeps going, pushes her from one orgasm to the next until she's shaking and pleading that it's too much.
When he relents, her head falls back onto the bed, her eyes closing and he has this moment where he doesn't know what to do with himself that reminds him of how messed up this all is.
It's only then that he remembers their clothing, which they'd strewn across the apartment with no thought for poor John who surely came home last night to the evidence (if not the soundtrack) of their activities.
He really should clean that up.
So he gets up, leaves her in his bed, tosses on a fresh pair of boxers and grimaces as he walks into down the hall and spies his shirt puddled up in the corner, her dress halfway to the couch, and her thong right at the front door, John's shoes a few inches from it.
Well, shit.
He definitely owes John a drink, or several.
He starts his penance with the clean up, drops their clothes in his room and tells her he'll be back. He puts on a pot of coffee and decides he should get actually dressed while he waits for it to brew.
When he goes back to his room for a shirt, Regina's put back on her clothes and is running her fingers through her tangled hair.
"Coffee is almost ready," he tells her, and she nods, still focused on her hair as he puts on a shirt and a pair of shorts.
He's ready before her (no surprise there) and pours them both a cup, doctoring hers with the small splash of milk he knows she likes, and bringing them both into the living room.
When she comes out, she settles on the couch beside him and for a moment they both just sip their coffees.
"Is that new?" she asks, pointing to the cat tree he and John picked up along with the coffeemaker on a thrift store trip to spruce up their place.
He nods, and takes another sip, thinking she's so beautiful as he looks over at her. It's no wonder he couldn't resist her, though he knows jumping into bed like that was a mistake. They have issues, major issues, and if they have any chance of making this work then they have to work those out.
He's slowly come to realize he's more mad at himself than at her. He's spent a lot of time since their talk thinking back on all of the times he didn't say what he was feeling and cursing himself for all the missed opportunities. It's all such a mess, but they can't change what happened, can't undo the mistakes that led them to this moment. All they can do is go forward, he just doesn't know how to do that.
He's in love with her, still. But he was and is deeply hurt by what happened, and as much as he wants to let it go, he can't seem to.
So he's a bit lost, struggles to start the conversation he knows they need to have, and again curses himself for not clarifying what this was last night before it happened.
"I, um, last night and this morning were amazing…"
She smiles, "Weren't they? I missed you so much." She leans in for a kiss, one he doesn't really return, which has her quirking a brow at him.
"We should talk."
She smirks, "I enjoyed talking with you last night."
For a second he thinks about indulging their attraction again, but no, no he shouldn't do that, it's bad enough he got carried away last night and again this morning.
"I mean really talk."
"Oh, sorry, I—"
"Don't be sorry. I just, we didn't… being together again was incredible, but it doesn't change everything that happened."
She frowns, "What are you saying?"
God, how does he express this properly? He's not sure what she was thinking last night, wants to clear the air but doesn't know how to do that. "As good as it was, I think last night was, I think it was a mistake."
Her eyebrows raise, "Wow. Okay then."
"I just—"
"No, you know what, Robin? It's fine, it's… whatever. It's fine."
Most certainly not fine, he can tell her tone, by how she's stiffened up, that glimmer of hurt in her eyes he feels like shit about.
"I don't mean to hurt you—"
"Well, too late now."
That hurts, true as it may be, but he continues, "I just don't think we should be fucking instead of dealing with our problems. We can't just bang this back together, Regina."
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because she's hissing, "I never said we could."
"I know, just—"
"No, you know what? Last night I thought you'd forgiven me. Now it turns out you haven't so you'll have to excuse me for being upset. I'm not just some bed you can hop into when you are feeling horny. I want to be with you. Fully. I cannot go back to being your fuck buddy while you figure this out. That's not fair to me."
He understands why she's upset, but that's not at all what he meant and frankly, he's a bit offended she thinks so low of him. "I never asked that of you."
She bites off, "Then what the hell did you mean?"
He takes a second to calm himself, to resist the urge to snap back at her because this is getting heated, and he needs to bring it back down. "I'm sorry, I just, I wanted you so badly, and I knew even as I was doing it that it was a mistake. I want everything to be right between us. I'm lost. It was all so senseless, and it's hard, and I…"
She softens at that, lets her defences down and sighs, "I know."
But the thing is she doesn't, she can't because, "I was going to tell you that I loved you that morning, so no, you don't know. If you had just waited ten more minutes I would have… then we could have…"
Her eyes widen at his confession, and this soft, pained breath escapes her before she breathes, "Oh my god."
"Yeah."
It takes her a second to find her words again, but when she does, she whispers, "I'm sorry."
"And I am, too. I'm so sorry. I could have... There are so many moments I let pass thinking I'd have another, then that happened. I was so mad. If I'd just let you explain, hell if I'd just blurted out how I felt right then, things would have been so different. We could have been happy. Could have spent the whole summer chatting and sexting instead of being miserable. And now that I know what we could have had, I'm stuck. I can't stop thinking about all that we lost and I don't know what to do."
There are tears in her eyes as she tells him, "I was an idiot, and I'm so sorry."
He brushes his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears that needn't be there. "Stop it, it's not just you. Not by a long shot. We both fucked up. If I hadn't been such a coward about my feelings, or if I hadn't blocked you, things would have been different, would have worked out. You know, I spent the whole summer being mad at you, I still am a bit, but now I'm mad at me, for all the things I didn't say."
She laughs bitterly, "That's a feeling I'm quite familiar with."
He sighs, shaking his head as he lets out his own bitter chuckle, "Yeah, you would be."
She looks up at him, those beautiful eyes packed full of emotion, "But it was all my fault. If I hadn't—"
"No, it's not." He will not let her think that. It wasn't her, it was them. "We both have ifs. If I had spoken up sooner. Hell, if I had clarified that I did mean it that time in the bathroom, or if I told you right off the bat back in January that I wanted to be with you, not just sleep with you. I had so many chances to tell you how I felt, to tell you that I wanted more, and I just kept making excuses for why it wasn't the right time. If I hadn't left you with doubts this wouldn't have happened."
Then he takes a breath, waits for her to look him in the eye again and tells her firmly, "I don't blame you for what happened. I just don't know where to go from here."
"But you should—"
"No. And this is never going to work if you keep blaming yourself for all of it. I need to forgive myself, but you need to forgive yourself, too."
"You are—"
"If the end of that statement is too good for me, I don't want to hear it."
He waits for a second, he has more to say but he interrupted her and he wants to give her a chance to speak. When she doesn't, he continues, "I have an anger problem, ever since I found out about my mum. It festered and a lot of it came out on you. I had time to process and work through those feelings, to learn to grieve in a way that's healthy and not destructive. It's part of why I can't just let us fall back into this without dealing with the real issues, because I know what that can do to a person. I want to do this the right way, whatever that is."
Her face softens, "Well I know what I want. I want this, I want you, and I'm willing to wait for it, so take all the time you need. I'm in love with you, and I want you to be happy. I want that to be with me, but if it's not…"
How could she think that? "God, Regina, don't even... of course you make me happy. I'm still in love with you, and I don't want it to be marred by the pain of our separation."
He pauses and thinks, "You know, I think I need that time you offered. A bit of time to reset, heal and forgive myself so we can have a clean slate."
"Then you have it," she says, grabbing her mug again to take a sip as she leans back into the couch.
"Simple as that?" he asks because it can't be, can it? This has all been so complicated, and he doesn't want to hurt anymore, doesn't want to hurt her anymore. He wants to go back to how they were and be able to hold her without any pain or regret but that's not something he can have.
Time though, that he can have, is probably what he needs, but is it really something she can work with? It seems that it is because she nods, and says, "Simple as that," smiling at him as she finishes her coffee.
She sets the mug down on the coffee table and tells him, "I should really get going."
She leans in for a second, hesitates, and there it is, of course it's not that simple. She was aiming for his lips, but she switches tracks and plants a soft kiss on his cheek, then stands, takes her mug and places it in the sink and tells him goodbye before walking out the door.
It feels final in a way that scares him, but she's giving him time, something he does need after all he's found out, so he pushes past the fear and tries to think about a future where they've moved past all of this and can be together.
He's still thinking about it when John gets up, his eyebrows raising as he takes in Robin alone on the couch. The comments don't come until John has his first sips of coffee, but once he does, Robin gets quite the earful.
There seems to be a party or some sort of gathering every night from now until the second week of school, and even then they don't seem to really let up. She's excited to see everyone of course, but drinking every single day is a bit much for her, and she's glad that the night before she and the girls decided to do a sober night to break it up.
It had been an effort on Regina's part to ensure Mal was included, she knows Mal said she doesn't mind all the parties, but Regina can't imagine it's fun for her being surrounded by drunk people, some of whom are definitely abusing alcohol like Mal used to.
It was good to catch up in a smaller group—her, Mal, Kathryn and Zelena. It gave her a chance to really talk to them, not interrupted by new people coming in or calling them over for drinking games. You can have intimate conversations at a party, but it's definitely easier in a small group of close friends.
She heard all about Kathryn's summer, including the leggy brunette she'd made out with on her trip to Mexico that had her re-examining her sexuality. It had been a summer of revelations for all of them, and they had a good time sitting together and chatting, all sans alcohol.
Regina told them about Robin, got their sympathy and a surprising show of optimism from all of them that it would all work out. She's not so sure about that, is half convinced she ruined any chance they had when she acted so stupidly and crushed both of their hearts.
She's trying to do as he suggested, trying to work on forgiving herself, but it's not something she's ever been good at. She is the type of person that berates herself for years over the smallest mistakes. And she knows where that comes from—her mother.
But she's not willing to cast aside all the blame and throw it on her mother, even as attractive as that idea is. She is still the one that broke up with Robin when she wanted to be with him, when she was in love with him. She's the one who has freaked out every time someone has gotten close, who has destroyed her own happiness with her misguided actions driven by fear and a foolish notion that it was the right thing. She knows better now, understands where that fear comes from, and that she just has to let herself experience it, process it and it will all be okay.
She wishes she knew that before, that she'd put the work in years ago after Daniel, that she'd realized she needed to get some help, but better than late than never, right?
The party tonight is at Jefferson's, and it's a big one for Labour Day. School starts tomorrow which she's excited for, but her class isn't until two so she isn't concerned with how late she stays out.
This event started as a mid-day barbeque, one she didn't attend because she knew only a select few were invited, and those select few included Robin.
She's trying to give him his space, thinks it is good for both of them, but he's here, looking damn good in a blue button down and light slacks, and all she wants to do is throw her arms around him and kiss him senseless.
She imagines in time this intense longing will wane, but for now, it's taking all of her control not to go talk to him.
She desperately wants to know how he's doing, which is ridiculous because she was with him yesterday morning. She needs to get a grip if she's going to make it through however long he needs.
He said he wants this, but that it needs to happen the right way and she understands that, knows better than most how things need to be resolved and not left to fester. She wants that for them, which is why no matter how damn good he looks, she will not go over to him. If he comes over, she'll talk to him, but if not, she's going to give him his space. It's the least she can do, her penance for her many crimes.
She ends up in a conversation with John, learns he spent some of his summer volunteering for a sketchy and toxic boss of a lawyer, until he couldn't take it anymore and quit. A lawyer who is now under investigation by the law society for borrowing from his trust funds, a huge no no.
When she asks John what led to the investigation, all she gets is a coy smile that makes her think he reported the asshole, and if so, good for him.
"So how are you doing?" John asks, and that confirms he knows all about her and Robin, not that she's surprised, those two are thick as thieves.
"I'm, I'm okay. We'll just see what happens."
John takes a swig of his beer and smiles, "Well, we all know how that's going to end. You two belong together."
"I…"
"Listen, I don't pretend to know what was going through your mind, but you hurt him deeply. And I know you, I know you were hurting, too. You both made a mess of things, but it will all settle. Likely sooner rather than later if the clothes strewn across my apartment two days ago were any indication."
Oh fuck, she didn't even think of that. She feels her cheeks flare up as embarrassment floods her. Their clothes were everywhere, and god, she was loud, so loud and oh god, oh god.
John just laughs at her pink cheeks, and tells her, "Glad I can still make you blush," and she rolls her eyes as she changes the subject, trying in vain to regain her dignity, though all she can think about is how John has walked in on them and had to listen to them, and it's mortifying.
Her embarrassment doesn't leave her, especially not when Robin comes over, and John winks at her before saying, "Hey buddy, how's your night going?"
Robin's, "Better now," is met with an eyebrow raise from John that makes her giggle awkwardly and has Robin frowning and asking, "What did I miss?"
She says, "Noth—"
At the same time as John's. "Just teasing Regina. Don't worry about it, man."
"He's not bothering you, is he?" Robin asks faux seriously, "I can tell him to bugger off if needed."
She smirks, "That won't be needed, but thank you."
John excuses himself for a refill, something she knows is just a ploy to get them alone because she can see his cup is half-full.
Then things get awkward. They both look at each other for a moment, a long pause driving both of them to speak at the same time.
"I, um—"
"Are you—"
They both laugh and he gestures to her, and she has to admit she doesn't remember what she was going to say. His genuine chuckle at that breaks the tension.
"Guess it's my turn then. Are you having a good time tonight?"
She nods. "I am. It's nice to see everyone, to have this time to be social before classes start."
"I couldn't agree more. We missed you earlier though, what better plans kept you from the festivities?"
"Oh, I… I wasn't sure if you'd want me there, and honestly a whole day of drinking is too much for me and for Mal, so we just hung out at my place and did our nails."
She shows off her freshly painted fingers, a dark, sparkly purple Mal picked for her she wasn't sure about but now loves.
"Very nice," Robin comments, likely humouring her because she highly doubts he cares at all what colour is on her nails, but she appreciates the effort.
His gaze flits from her hands to her chest, then rakes down her body, before he catches himself, blushing sheepishly as his eyes return to her face.
"It's okay to look you know," she can't help but flirt with him, offering up, "I was earlier."
At that, he laughs, a deep bellowing thing that rings out and brings a smile to her face.
"Really? This old thing?" He asks looking down at his shirt.
She nods. "That shirt has been inspiring impure thoughts all night."
He looks pleased as a punch at the compliment, which is good because she's worried it might have been too much, then his voice goes lower and he's admitting, "So has yours."
She swallows hard tries to keep her mind off of things they should not be doing, but it's really all she can think of, and she can tell from his eyes and the way he's biting his lip that he is too. But they aren't doing that, so she begrudgingly takes them away from flirting, before her baser urges get the better of her.
Jefferson comes over moments later, and she's relieved by the distraction. She's trying to be good, but it's much easier to do with another person there.
When the night ends, she goes home alone, and pats herself on the back for honouring his wishes.
If it weren't for his classes, Robin would lose track of what day it is since every day there's a different party and he's been buzzed or drunk for almost six days straight. It's the first week of classes so he hasn't any work to do and he, along with half the school it seems, has been taking advantage of that.
Last night, he and John took a break to hang out and play some video games, after having the realization about how much they'd been drinking. Now they are back at Killian's for a smaller gathering to finish off the last of the keg left over from his party last week.
Regina's here, as he'd hoped she'd be—he's wearing that same blue button down shirt she admired the other night at Jefferson's because he knows how much she likes it.
God, was she ever stunning that night, so damn beautiful, he wanted to say screw it all and go back to his place to, well, screw her. But they resisted, which he knows is a good thing, but seeing her tonight, in her tight little dress, paired with that same cardigan she wore their last night together before it all went to hell, he doesn't think he'll be able to resist her again.
He's never wanted anyone like he wants her. It's so much more than just lust, he loves her, wants to be with her for real, but he really really does not want to fuck it up. He knows time is what they need—they both need to forgive themselves and each other so they can move forward with a healthy and productive relationship—but it's so hard to do the right thing when she's here, looking like that.
He can't help but make his way over to flirt with her. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but he has to tell her how utterly delicious she looks. And he just wants to be in her presence, to talk to her, to breathe the same air, to catch wafts of her shampoo.
So he goes over, and the soft smile that spreads across her face at his words and how she then comments saucily on his repeated outfit make it all worth it.
It's no longer as painful to be around her. There's still that sense of loss, for all that time they spent apart when they didn't have to, but he's starting to move on from it, to accept the things he cannot change—lord knows he's had enough of those to last a lifetime.
He knows they are going to end up together, and he wants to rush past this part, to just be together, but he doesn't want to fuck up their future because he couldn't keep it in his pants.
If it were just him that needed time, he'd probably cave, because he knows he will get there eventually and he doesn't want to be apart, not for a second. Every time he sees he wants to throw in the towel and tell her that he loves her and wants to be with her. But the way Regina blames herself for everything is something she has to get past. He doesn't know how to help her with that, but knows that it needs to happen so they can make this work. He doesn't want her deferring to him constantly, to not speak her truth because she thinks she deserves to be punished for what she's done. That isn't healthy and he won't let it happen.
It's only been nine days since he found out her true feelings, and five since they slept together, but it feels like longer. He still aches with regret for all their lost time, hates himself for his part in it, but he is getting past it, just slower than he'd like.
He tells himself over and over as he chats with her that he won't fall into bed with her again, that it's still too soon, but their flirting gets bawdier, the sexual tension grows, and soon it's taking every ounce of his self control not to kiss her.
Her eyes are dark and wanting, and he breaks, admitting, "I want to kiss you so badly right now."
She smirks, and quips, "Why don't you then?"
He's fairly certain it's just flirting but he stops to clarify, "I'm not—I still need time."
She nods. "That's okay. I just… god, I want you, so so badly. Seeing you, hearing that you want it too, I don't want to resist. I want you, Robin, even if it's just for tonight."
With that, all of his self-control flies out the window and he kisses her hard, not caring that they are out in the open, that all their friends can probably see this heated make out session.
She breathes, "Let's get out of here," as his hands tangle in her hair, and he could not agree more. They don't bother to say goodbye, just sneak out hand in hand, catching the knowing looks from John and Mal as they pass them on their way out.
He can't be arsed to care, not with how Regina's looking at him, with how she looks, and how this time is guilt free because he knows they are on the same page. He feels absolutely terrible about the last time, but as she tells him again how badly she wants him, he stops thinking about that and focuses on getting them to her place, so they can do something about all the sexual tension between them. It's not what they should be doing, he knows that, and he should be stronger than this, but with her lips on his ear telling him exactly what she wants to do to him, he's powerless to resist.
He should be better than his baser urges, but he's not.
They are barely inside her door when he starts stripping her, starting with that little sweater which gets tossed in the direction of the stairs (at least this time no one but them will see it). He's half tempted to take off her dress now, to drop to his knees and finish her with his tongue right here, but last time they'd fucked quick and dirty is his entry, and he wants more than that.
So he presses her up against the wall to kiss her hard, but only for a moment, then he grabs her hand and lets her lead him up the stairs so he can watch her delectable ass sway with each step. On the top step, he grabs hold of it, making her chuckle and scold him.
It takes them longer than it should to get to her bedroom because they keep pausing to make out, and half way through, he loses his shirt.
He scoops her up in his arms just outside her door, walks them blindly toward her bed as she sucks on his tongue, a move that always makes him groan, and this is no exception.
He's so hard for her, can feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. He deposits her onto the bed and strips her of her dress, then undoes his fly, relieving some of the constraint.
He takes a second to look at her, taking in the matching cherry red lacy bra and thong, before sliding the thong down her legs. He drops to his knees as he does, planting kisses up her thighs on his way back up her body. When he's standing again, her hands find his pants, pushing them down so he can step out of them, his cock springing free. Her hand makes it's way down and she's stroking him over his boxers—damn that feels good.
He cannot wait to be inside her, but he will, wants to get her off first, then again on his cock and maybe a third time for good measure if he can manage it.
He kisses her, all heat and passion, lots of tongue, as he pushes her down onto the bed, climbing onto it himself.
He missed this, feeling like this, being with her, the woman he loves, having these tendrils of affection mixed in with all the lust. Wanting to pleasure her more than wanting to get off himself.
He missed kissing her, touching her, all the moments that in a casual hook up are just necessary actions to prepare for the upcoming sex. It's not that he didn't enjoy them then, but it was never the same. With Regina he's always treasured every moment, there's a care and compassion that comes through that makes it all the better. He feels truly comfortable, trusts her completely, and doing it with that and all his feelings makes each encounter special, something to cherish. It makes him slow down and push past his own desperate need so he savours the kisses, the moments where their skin slides, the warmth of her against his chest and the contented fuzzy feeling he gets every time she's in his arms.
He wonders for a second if he's fucking this all up. This feels right, he wants this, wants her forever, and why bother with the waiting. What is it accomplishing?
But then she does this sinful thing with her tongue against his throat that makes him groan, and he starts to work on getting her bra off. His hands fiddle with the clasp as he moves to her neck, sucking kisses along the sensitive skin, making her moan and arch.
He lets his hands roam down her body, over her pert nipples, then down the soft skin of her stomach, to where she really wants him. She leans into his touch when his hand moves between her legs. His touch is gentle and teasing, he's not intending to go where she really wants, but as he ghosts over her entrance, he can feel that she's already wet and he sinks a questing finger in, moaning himself when he realizes how worked up she is already.
He thrusts that one finger in a gentle rhythm as he continues to kiss her neck, her lips, then moving onto her tits. When he sucks firmly, she gasps, then her voice comes out low and pleading, "Robin, I'm dying here."
That is music to his ears, and he moans, sinking another finger into her, picking up the pace of them, finding her g-spot after a few testing thrusts.
As soon as he hits it, she cries out, "Oh god, yes, like that. Oh, please do that."
That's not fair, she knows what it does to him when she begs for it, when she tells him what she wants. She's exploiting his weaknesses, making his cock ache for attention his hands are too busy to give.
He adds another finger into the mix, starts to grind his palm against her clit and she starts to babble about how good it feels, which only makes him want her more.
He's about to kiss down her stomach, to make his way down, when she gasps that she's close and he focuses on changing nothing, on keeping up what he's doing because it's working for her.
He's starting to throb by the time she curls in on herself, moaning and moaning as her orgasm overtakes her. He can feel her inner walls fluttering against his fingers and he draws it out until she slumps back onto the bed, with a sigh of rapture.
"Oh god, that was…"
He smirks at her smugly, making his way back to her mouth and whispering, "Why yes, it was, but I'm not done with you," before claiming her lips again.
When the kiss breaks, she breathes, "Mmm, I know. But roll over, I want to be on top."
He does as asked, pushing down his boxers as he does.
"Eager are we?" she teases.
"For you? Always."
She moves to sink onto him and he wants it so badly, but opens his mouth and asks something he almost can't believe, "Do we need a condom?"
Her face twists as she looks down at him like she doesn't understand, and why the fuck did he say that now? They should have had this conversation sooner, not when she was seconds from sliding onto him. It's something he needs to ask because he cares about her, so much and he knows this was important to her before and things have changed. They went without last time, but he wants to be sure she's making an informed choice, that this is what she actually wants and not a begrudging consent because he's already inside her.
"I'm clean," he offers, because while he was vigilant with the condoms over the summer, he got tested to be sure. "I just, I know that before…"
"I mean I haven't been tested but, the last person I had sex with before the last time was you…"
"Celibate summer?" he asks and she nods, so he raises his eyebrows and teases, "Well, sounds like we need to make up for lost time."
It's a gamble and he hopes he hasn't ruined the moment, but she smiles and nods, grasping his cock and stroking it firmly as he groans, then she lines herself up and sinks onto him.
Oh christ, god it's bliss, it's heaven, it's amazing, fuck.
He says some of that out loud and she chuckles, resting one of her hands on his chest as she starts to rock above him.
Fuck, what a sight she is, head back, tits bouncing as she rides him at a good clip. Her hands shift from his chest to the bed beside him, then she's picking up the pace and he's gasping.
"Oh christ, that's—" she squeezes on the up, and he chokes on his words, moaning at the feel, "—god, so fucking good, love."
She smiles down at him, then leans down to kiss him. She's gorgeous, and he wants nothing more than at that moment to tell her how much he loves her, but with everything going on, it's certainly not the time. They were clear this sex doesn't mean they are together, so he shouldn't be voicing his feelings.
She does that squeeze again and he moans into the kiss. Fuck, how did he get this lucky, to be with someone this criminally sexy, and so smart and passionate? She's an absolute marvel.
"Mmm, god yes, like that, darling. I love—fuck you feel so damn good ridding me."
"Oh, fuck, you t-too," she pants.
His hands make his way to her tits, squeezing and making her cry out and start to fuck him harder, faster, and it's bliss.
He closes his eyes for a few moments and basks in the pleasure, but then he opens them again, so he can watch her, see how her back arches, how her hips move, how he slides in and out of her, coated in her. She's so wet, so hot and tight, as she takes him over and over. He starts to watch where they are joined, enjoying the sight of them coming together.
It's quite the sight, and she's moaning about how good he feels, then she's kissing him, her hands twisting at his nipples and sending heat flaring down to his cock.
He can feel himself start to approach the precipice, can feel the tension winding in his gut, so he slips a hand between them, rubbing fast circles over her clit that have her shouting.
"Fuck, yes. Let me know how it feels, love, keep doing—Oh fuck that."
Shit, he's really getting close now, she's so wet and so warm, so snug against him, and she looks like a wet dream, is making all these noises.
How is he supposed to last when it's like this?
Fuck he's so close, is gritting his teeth and holding back, even though his body is begging to let go because he knows she is too.
He can do this, he can make it for her, he can—dear god, she better come soon.
She shifts back a little, and moans, clenching on him and making that need to come grow even more.
"Oh fuck, yes like that, that's it. I'm… oh god, fuck, Robin."
She can't say his name like that when he's this close.
He thrusts up into her unintentionally, his hips bucking on a particularly pleasing thrust of hers, but she lets out a low groan, so he does it again and she moans.
"God, fuck, do that!"
So he does, desperately clinging to that last little bit of control as he flirts with the edge, the pleasure intense, unrelenting, the need to release all-encompassing.
She throws her head back, crying out loudly, and oh thank god she's coming. He tries to fuck her through it because she's nearly screaming, but after a few seconds those delicious spasms pull him under and he's the one crying out, his thighs twitching as he releases inside her, pleasure rushing through him, leaving him breathless and spent.
She slumps on top of him and there they sit for several minutes, both catching their breath as he strokes his hand up and down her now sweaty back.
She worked hard, and he compliments her on it, enjoying how thoroughly debauched she is.
"Robin…" she starts and trails off, so he urges her to continue. "This summer, did you… I'm not judging, you had every right to be with someone else. I'm just curious based on what you said."
He grimaces, and before answering, asks, "Please tell me this wasn't bothering you during."
She shakes her head, "No, I only thought of it now."
"Good, and…" Fuck, this is going to suck, he really hopes she can understand his albeit stupid attempts to numb the pain. "I was."
He watches her face, for any sign of pain but it doesn't change and it pushes him to admit, "I, um, I slept around a lot this summer."
That has her eyebrows raising, and her face twists for a second, but then it's back to a cool, steely mask that he doesn't want. As much as he hopes he hasn't hurt her, he doesn't want her to hide it from him if he did.
"Are you okay?" he asks gently, and she nods.
"I'm not upset." Her tone tells an opposite story, then her voice goes small and hesitant as she asks, "Anyone you wanted to... did you date anyone?"
He shakes his head and assures, "It was all just sex." Realizing how that could sound he clarifies, "Nothing was ever like this. I was still hung up on you, thought of you a lot of the time, even when I tried not to."
She smiles then, a small thing, but a smile nonetheless. It comforts some of the guilt, but he still feels like a jerk.
"Are you really okay with this?" he asks, not even really sure if he means his summer or the sex they just had. He realizes she may have changed her mind about that now that they've broken the tension, but prays that's not the case.
"I am, I know what this was."
"Good," he says, but it leads him to a question he's been struggling with, "There's just one thing—how could you not know I was in love with you? Or at least had feelings for you? I was, am, so obvious. I even said it that one time…"
She sighs, propping her face up on her hand, "Do you remember when you yelled at me that we weren't together, that 'this was just fun?'"
He didn't, not until she said it, but now it's coming back to him. That whole period after he learned of his mum's diagnosis is a bit of a haze, and what he remembers most vividly is being hurt, shocked, grief-stricken and pissed. He'd forgotten all about Regina messaging his mum, and the total asshole he had been.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't… you have to understand that's all a bit blurry, I do now, and I am sorry, I didn't mean it, couldn't—"
"It's okay, I know that, now. You were upset and grieving, and I was looking for a way out because I was scared. I probably would have come up with some other dumb reason to convince myself you weren't interested. My therapist says it's a self-worth issue and I'm working on it, I really am."
The mention of her being scared sends a lance of fear through him, but he moves past it and assures her, "I know you are, and you are brilliant, and sexy, and strong and just an incredible person."
At that she stiffens, her voice tight with pain, "You can't… please don't say things like that if we're not… it's too much."
Shit, there he goes again. "I'm sorry, love."
She flinches at that too, and god he is a right arsehole. He isn't sure this is the right move, doesn't want to leave but, "Would you feel better if I left?"
She thinks on it and grimaces before telling him it's probably for the best. He assures her there are no hard feelings, that this is a difficult situation but they will make their way through it, then he gathers up his clothes, gets dressed and heads home.
He is scared, scared to lose her, scared she'll run away again, scared to be hurt like that again.
It seems he really does need more time.
She goes for lunch with the girls on Friday, patting herself on the back for scheduling her classes Monday to Thursday and giving herself a three day weekend. It's not one she needs this week, there's barely work to be done and she's nearly finished already, but soon she will and in truth she's looking forward to that.
With all of her free time she's been going to most of the parties but it will be good to have things to do that aren't that, good to see Robin a little less. She only shares one class with him this semester, but has seen him nearly every day. All of this back and forth is making her head spin and she knows logically that staying away is the right thing to do, but she can't help herself, and neither can he. But both times they've ended up in bed together have ended up crushing her heart—which she probably deserves—but she doesn't want to keep feeling like this.
Time is one thing, having moments where they succumb and pretend before reality kicks them in the teeth, is another. She can't take it, and she can't imagine it's easy for him either. Though perhaps it is as he's able to separate sex and feelings better than she ever could—if his summer is any indication.
It's something she's been trying not to think about, but everyone had seen them making out at Jefferson's and the girls have questions, that she's answering as best as she can.
She told them what happened, how they slept together but aren't together, and how conflicted she feels over it, and now she's waiting to see what they say.
Mal reacts first, no surprise there, proclaiming, "It sounds like he's being an ass. Shit or get off the pot. He doesn't just get to jump into bed with you and run off, that's not fair to you."
"He doesn't mean—"
Mal cuts her off, "It doesn't matter what he intends, he's hurting you. He said he wanted time, time does not mean the occasional bang. Time means staying away, and if he's done with that then he needs to be done with it. Full stop."
"It's not that simp—"
"Actually, it is. Either he forgives you or not. Either he wants to be with you or not. I'm not going to let him hurt you like this because you want to be punished for what happened in the spring."
"He's hurting too though—"
"Then he's a bigger idiot than I thought. Doesn't change the facts here."
She disagrees, and Mal's bit about punishing herself rubs her the wrong way even though it's likely true—it's part of why Robin has suggested the space. She doesn't think she'll soon forget his insistence that she needs to forgive herself, something she's sure her therapist would agree with.
"Can we not, please," she begs, and Mal narrows her eyes.
Mal acquiesces after one last comment, "You deserve to be happy, Regina, you both do, and I think that's what you guys are trying to do but you are going about it all wrong. I've never been the friend that sits quietly back and watches mistakes happening without saying something."
"I know, and I appreciate that, I do. I just was hoping for a bit of a lighter mood for this lunch and if we go any further down this road there's no coming back from it," her voice goes weak and shaky and she hates to be so vulnerable, but it's good for her, she knows it is.
Mal nods, and Zelena eyes her sympathetically and sighs, "Before we move on, I just want to say that I love you, Sis, and I know you guys are going to work it out. We just want to help you get there."
"I know," she tells her because she does, her friends have been so supportive since she got back and she really appreciates it. She was so isolated this summer because of work and she missed this, forgot how much it helps. "Anyone have a good story from this week? Anything exciting I've missed?"
Mal smirks, "Well… I saw Kathryn chatting all night with Ruby the other day."
Kathryn flushes bright red and she mutters, "I hate you," before launching into her story, "I… well, you guys know I've never really, you know, with a woman except that one kiss this summer and I, I think I like her, but I don't know what to do."
"You think you like her?" Mal asks with an arched brow.
"Okay, no, you are right, I like her. I think I did before, I always thought she was cool, and really pretty, I just didn't connect the dots."
Regina speaks up then, "That happens. Trust me, I know."
That makes everyone laugh, because if anyone knows that it's her. How many times did she insist that she didn't have feelings for Robin?
"Yes, you would," Kathryn teases, "So anyway, I'm just a little lost. We kissed the other night, and I wanted more, she definitely wanted more, but I can't… Fuck, this is embarrassing, but I'm scared. With guys it's easy; I know what I'm doing, know how all the parts work, and I feel reasonably confident in my skills but with her…"
Mal drawls, "Darling, I really hope you know how those parts work, too, considering you have 'em for yourself."
Zelena cackles at that, as Regina devolves into a fit of laughter that Kathryn and Mal soon join in on. It takes a few minutes for them all to calm down but when they do, Mal tells Kathryn, "Just tell her you're nervous, and that you haven't, then prepare to have your world rocked."
"Oh god," Kathryn moans, "you haven't with he—"
"Oh no, no. I'm just assuming."
Kathryn breathes out a sigh of relief, "Oh good, I'm not sure how I'd feel about crossing over with a friend like that."
Regina catches Zelena's grimace at Kathryn's comment and her gaze seems to draw Mal and Kathryn's over. Zelena grabs for her water, taking a drink before she admits, "I may have um, slept with Killian this summer."
Kathryn exclaims, "You did what?!"
At the same time, Mal laughs and comments, "You idiot, didn't you learn from Kathryn's mistake?"
Regina can't help but add, "It appears not."
"Oh, fuck off, Regina you already made fun of me," Zelena sasses. "It was dumb, but he's Killian and harmless. And it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be given your experience Kathryn. He's a decent guy."
Kathryn eyes her suspiciously, "Do you like him?"
Zelena laughs, "Okay, no, not like that."
Regina already knows this story, but she's utterly surprised when Kathryn and Mal want to hear all the details, and so Zelena tells them about how he came down a couple weekends to show the place off to fill the one open room in the house, and how he invited everyone who was in town out with him for the nights and how Zelena went, let him buy her a few drinks and how one thing led to another.
"So wait," Mal asks, "Did this happen at Regina's?"
She hadn't thought of that when Zelena told her the story, just assumed they went back to Killian's, and she hopes that is true, even though Zelena was living there and had free range to do whatever she wanted.
Zelena shakes her head, "No, he invited me back to his place for another drink when everyone was leaving as a pretence."
And oh thank god. She doesn't know why it weirds her out so much to think about Zelena having sex at her place, but it does, and if it happened a different time, she'd prefer not to know about it.
"Always the drinks with that guy," Mal remarks. "That's the same move he made on me when he was trying to get in my pants."
"That's how it happened when I slept with him, too," Kathryn says while giggling, then looks over at Regina, "Watch out, you're next."
"Not a chance," she drawls. "He knows better than to try."
Mal nods, "He does."
"Mal, I have a question for you…" Zelena starts.
"What is it?"
"How do you know if it's a problem or if someone just drinks too much?"
That's an abrupt shift of conversation, but Regina is also curious about the answer, if Mal has one.
"It's hard to tell honestly, unless the someone is you. If you crave it, if you can't stop after one, if you make excuses to drink, if you make rules for yourself but constantly break them… There's always signs and I can only speak for me, but I knew it was an issue long before I did anything about it, I just wasn't ready yet."
Then she looks Zelena over, "Is there someone specific you are worried about? I don't think there's anything wrong with expressing concerns even if you end up being wrong. With how prevalent alcohol and alcohol abuse are in our society, it's always worth a conversation, even if the person isn't ready to hear it yet—like I wasn't a lot of the times Regina brought it up, it gets you thinking and that's important."
"Um, yeah, me, actually. I never used to… wait I don't want to—is this going to bother you?"
Mal shakes her head, "No. Please go on."
"Before this summer I never drank alone, only when I was going out and with other people. But I was so bored and lonely, I started to have a drink after work just for something to do. And I got drunk alone a few times on the weekend. I know some people do that but to me, that was always the sign you need to stop."
"Can you stop?"
Zelena nods, "Yeah, I have. I don't drink alone anymore, I just worry…"
"You can always do a sober month if you are really concerned. I'd be worried if you can't make the month or if you find yourself obsessively thinking about it, wanting it, telling yourself why are you bothering and giving in."
"Mm, okay, maybe I will."
Regina chimes in then, "I think I'll join you. This last week was a lot and my liver could use a break."
She's been cutting down on her drinking since Mal got sober, but it's picked back up being here and she doesn't want that. She wants to support her friend as much as she can.
"Why don't we all do it?" suggests Kathryn. "It will be fun. And it's more inclusive. We never want to pressure anyone, but the truth is when one person is the only one not drinking, it can feel weird, and we don't want that."
Mal smiles in that way she does when she's genuinely touched, "You guys, you don't have to…"
Regina grabs her hand, "We know; we want to. There's too much alcohol in our lives with all the parties and social events that inevitably involve drinking when there's no need for it. I like hanging out sober like this. We've never needed wine to have fun, and it's really not going to change much. Plus, we can all laugh at the drunken idiots if we do attend the parties, and be annoyed together at how obnoxious drunk people are."
Mal smiles, then remarks, "Sounds like a plan, but we've been overstaying our welcome, we should probably get going."
That is true, they've just been sitting and talking for at least half an hour, their meals done and plates cleared for a while now.
They make their way over to pay, then all go their separate ways home, promising to meet up the next day for coffee.
She finds herself in Robin Locksley's bed again a week later. They got to chatting at Zelena's housewarming party, a nice afternoon, alcohol free, gathering that should have been safe, but they started chatting and one thing led to another, and now she's here, sated, naked, and feeling foolish.
There was nothing to blame for it this time except her. He'd been looking at her, admiring the dress she can admit she wore for him (just like the matching lingerie that was underneath). She was the one that suggested they do this, even though she knew it was a bad idea.
She just misses him so much, so she clings to these moments she can get, tries to make them happen when she knows all they are doing is making things harder. Now that she's snuggled up in his arms listening to the lulling sound of his heart beating, she feels an intense wave of longing.
She wants this for real. These stolen moments aren't enough, and Mal was right, sleeping together when they are supposed to be giving each other space is a huge mistake and it isn't working.
They can't keep doing this. It hurts too much every time she has to leave. She can pretend everything is okay and they are together in those moments when they come together, when they snuggle up together post-sex and trade soft, lazy kisses. But they aren't together, and having sex isn't going to make them be together. She tells herself that it will help them along, but that's a lie she clings to to allow herself to slip back into the fantasy instead of facing the reality.
He was right the first time when he said this was a mistake. She can't change that it happened now, but she can avoid it in the future.
"We can't keep doing this," she whispers softly into his chest, not even sure if he's awake to hear it. He's lying peacefully, eyes closed like he's dozed off into a mid-afternoon nap, but they flicker open at that.
"I know. I'm not… I'm sorry."
"No more sorries, I don't regret it, but…"
He nods and sighs, "But it's making it harder."
She nods then, "Yeah. And I should go…"
His face twists, and he's urging, "Wait! Can you, can you stay for a bit longer? I know it's a bad idea, but I'm just not ready to let you go yet."
She should say no, but she's weak and she misses him, too. She doesn't want to leave, so she stays, indulging in the fantasy once more.
He comes over on Wednesday after Evidence class to 'discuss the cases' but they both know it's an excuse, and sure enough after ten minutes of small talk they move closer together on the couch and their lips meet.
She basks in the kiss, in feeling him like this again, feels that soft romantic part of her bursting out, trying to convince her that this is more than it is. She knows this is a bad idea, but she pushes that part of her down and leans into all the excuses she's crafted all the other times this has happened.
Robin's hands move down her body, and he's gripping her ass, urging her onto his lap, where she can see he's already hard, and that's when it hits her.
They are right back where they were before. Sleeping together amidst a slew of feelings they aren't talking about in hopes it somehow fixes what she broke.
They've been down this road before and it only leads to heartbreak.
She breaks the kiss, panting heavily, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away.
His eyes widen in a silent question as she tries to collect her thoughts and cool her hormones.
She respects Robin's need for time, she does, but she can't do this anymore. She can't keep lying to herself, telling herself that they can do this and it won't hurt her, because it does.
She's sick of feeling like this, sick of fighting what's between them. He says that he loves her and she wants to believe him, but there's that part of her that thinks he's lying. Not intentionally, she knows he wouldn't do that, but she thinks that maybe he fell out of love with her over the summer and is just clinging to what they used to be, and if that's the case, then this needs to end for good.
Maybe it's a dick move because she's supposed to be giving him time, but she has to voice it, she wants him to know why she won't be doing this again. She will wait for him if he really needs time, but she needs to know.
She shifts further away so she can look at him. "Robin, I… I can't do this anymore. I can't keep having sex with you, cuddling up with you and pretending that it doesn't kill me every time we say goodbye. I'm sorry if this is what you need, but I just… I can't, not anymore. It's not what I need, not at all, and maybe that's selfish, but I can't keep trying to make casual sex work because I so desperately want us to be together. It's too hard, and I can't keep doing this to myself."
His whole face falls, and she feels so guilty about that, doesn't want to cause him anymore pain. Then he's apologizing, "God, I'm sorry I didn't mean to—"
"Robin, it's okay, I'm not looking for an apology. But I don't think I can be around you like this while you are figuring out if this can work. It's been almost three weeks since the first time this happened, and I'm not trying to rush you, I just… I can't help but think you might already know…"
His face twists in confusion, "What are you saying?"
She sighs, dreading what she's about to say because she loves him and wants him to be happy, and that's what she's been trying to do, but it's not working.
"I think it's pretty clear you still want to sleep with me; it's all the rest that's giving you trouble. If you don't want to be with me, that's fine, but I can't keep pushing aside my feelings in some misguided attempt to get you to forgive me. Either you do or you don't. And maybe you do but your feelings have changed. Whatever it is that's holding you back, maybe it's for a reason. Maybe this just doesn't work, maybe there is too much water under the bridge and we both just need to move on."
It's terrible and not at all what she wants, but she has to do this. They imploded before because she wasn't being honest about how she felt, and she's been slipping back into that as she waits for him to figure out if he really wants to be with her.
"Regina, I… I never… I am in love with you, present tense. That was never a question, and I'm so sorry if I didn't make that clear."
He reaches for her hand, clinging onto it tightly when she accepts the gesture and goes on, "I want this, I want you, forever. Maybe I didn't make it clear but I am in love with you and I want you to hear it, to know it. I am so ridiculously head over heels in love with you that I am terrified of screwing it up."
That is a feeling she understands, but if he loves her and she loves him, why can't they just be together?
He grips tighter onto her hand, looking deeply into her eyes as he goes on, "What I wanted was time for us to heal so we could come back stronger than ever, but I don't want to lose you. You're right, what we've been doing isn't working—so I don't want to do it anymore. I'm sick of fighting this. I want to be with you. No one else, not ever. I want to date you, woo you, and I want people to know about it, want to be able to tell the world that I am in love with you."
She can't believe this is actually happening. She never expected this to come out of the conversation. She thought he'd end it, not say all that. Her heart feels like it's going to explode and she can't stop smiling. This is all she wanted for so long, it's what she's been terrified she wouldn't ever have. The idea of this moment is what had her clinging desperately to the one connection they still had: sex.
Robin's not done yet, squeezes her hand, smiling just as broadly as he says, "Regina Mills, I'm asking, will you go out for a real date with me? Saturday night."
There are tears in her eyes she can scarcely feel, relief rushing through her as she processes his confession. He loves her, he wants to be with her, she didn't fuck it all up, they can be together. All she can think of to say in response is, "Just a date, not to be your girlfriend?"
He chuckles, and kisses her forehead, "I was getting there. I just wanted to ask you on the date first."
She snickers, her face starting to hurt from how broadly she's smiling. "Oh, sorry, go on."
"Regina Mills, will you go out with me? Exclusively, as my girlfriend, and as my partner? As the woman I'm in love with."
The dopey grin on her face spreads as she nods, feeling at peace and settled in a way she hasn't since it all blew up. She's so moved and overwhelmed by all that she feels that she can't speak, so she kisses him, delighting in how right it feels. There's no more hesitation, no voice asking what this means, no desperate clinging to him in case it's their last kiss. This is a show of affection between two people who love each other. It's not something she's ever really had and she goes all warm and mushy as she leans more into him, into the comfort of his body, of his presence, his aura. Robin Locksley loves her, and she loves him, and they are together, for real now.
She's so overcome by all the happiness and love that she feels that she's almost shaking and can barely hold the kiss. She's never felt this much all at once in her whole life.
Robin asks, "What's wrong?" as he takes in the single tear that's falling down her cheek, catching it with his thumb and wiping it away in that way he does that always makes her heart swell. He's looking at her with so much weighted affection she nearly lets another fall.
"Nothing, I'm just so happy."
He smiles warmly at her, pulling her in for a tight hug as he whispers in her hair, "That makes two of us. Sorry it took me so long."
"You have nothing to be sorry for; I love you."
"And I you," he says as she moves to kiss him, intent on picking back up where they left off, but he doesn't let her deepen it, pulls away from her after a few moments.
"I… what's wrong?" she asks this time.
He responds similarly, "Nothing, nothing at all. But I don't want this to be all about sex. This is a new chapter for us. And I'm going to woo you, like you deserve."
He really is a romantic, but that's not necessary and she tells him as much.
"Regina, you are precious to me and I haven't always shown that to you. Let me do this, please. I love you, I want to do this right."
Her heart flutters yet again at hearing those words. She doesn't think she'll ever tire of hearing them on his lips, of being able to say them freely herself so all she does is nod and say, "I love you, too."
Thanks for sticking it out through the rough patch. It's smooth sailing from here out. There are two chapters left and if there's anything you wanted to see in the story let me know and I may be able to work it in.