He's so fucking nervous. It's ridiculous how much so.
But he has a date with Regina, finally, and he wants it to be perfect.
After everything they went through, after all the times he wanted to do this, all the times he imagined finally going on a real date with her, it needs to be special.
He was so caught up when he asked her, that he didn't have time to worry about it. He had realized he was about to lose her and all of a sudden all of the obstacles in their path didn't seem so massive, at all. Time would have made sense if they spent it actually talking, but once again they slunk back into their pattern of burying their feelings and clinging to sex as their only form of connection.
He's such an idiot, after that second time he should have realized staying away wasn't going to work and should have made an effort to talk it all out with her.
But he doesn't regret it, can't when it led them here, when they are finally together for real. What he wanted for so long.
The only thing he regrets is giving himself so little time to plan this date, a date which needs to be epic, amazing, has to show her how special she is, how worthy she is. He wants this date to say a million things, wants it to be the best night of her life, and he's stumped.
He has no ideas. Well, that's not exactly true, he has ideas but all of them are too lame, too commonplace. Regina Mills deserves more than dinner and a movie; he's been in love with her for six months, and has at least eight months of romantic gestures to make up for.
But he also only has two days to plan this date.
How the hell do you show a woman how much she means to you, how much you love her, and that all of the mistakes of the past don't matter in a single date?
If he can't do all that—and he doesn't see any way he can—how does he make the date good enough to encompass half a year of love?
It's going to be a disaster, and while he knows it won't change Regina's feelings—knows that he could burn dinner and her house down and she'd still love him, he wants to do better. He wants to show her the best time.
It's John who helps him out of his downward spiral. John sits down beside him on the couch as he's brooding and asks, "What's bothering you?"
"I need to plan the perfect date, and I can't. Fuck, dude, I have nothing."
John smiles broadly, "So you and Regina, it's on, finally?"
He nods, "Yeah, we're together."
John surprises him by patting him on the back. "Congrats man, I'm so happy for you guys. I mean about fucking time, but yeah, really happy for you." John takes his arm back and stretches his feet out onto the coffee table, remarking far too casually, "As long as you don't end up back here instead of her place, it will be a great date."
Robin shakes his head at him, glad they can laugh about it. "Relax, it won't be like that, but if we do hang out after. I'll make sure it's at Regina's."
"If we do?" John snorts, "Oh please, I know you two."
"It's not…" That's not the point anyway. "What do I do? I'm freaking out here."
"Okay, you need to chill the fuck out. You love her, it doesn't matter what you do, she'll love it no matter what. Oh god, you guys are going to be all annoying and goo goo eyed from now on, fawning over each other's every movement. You are going to stand in the middle of the road mooning over each other, the whole world disappearing and all that crap."
He would call John a cynic, but he understands what John means, and is already feeling some of it. Ever since he got to say I love you, too it's like he's been floating on a cloud, his heart so full it's ready to burst. He knows he's been super smiley, John commented on it last night and again this morning. He sassed John right back, but he's enjoying the ribbing over how 'annoyingly lovey' he is; he enjoys being so 'annoyingly lovey.'
He knows Regina feels the same, she'd stayed around after class just to see him, and she was just as love struck as he was. She'd given him this broad grin as she told him how much she enjoyed his Good Morning, beautiful text, something he's delighted to be able to do. She also told him how she couldn't wait for their date on Saturday and he'd been far too gone for her to think about all his worries then. It was only once he got home from school that he started panicking about this date.
"Say you are right…" John probably is, but Robin's not quite ready to admit that, "That still doesn't answer what I do."
John sighs, giving Robin his classic you are being stupid look, the one he's received many times with respect to Regina. "The point is it doesn't matter, man. She's going to love whatever you do."
John's right, he knows that, but he still wants it to be amazing. He knows the simple fact of them being together for it, the fact that it is an actual date will make it great. He just needs to take it from that to incredible, something that feels a bit more doable with John's reassurances.
While he has John to bounce ideas with, he tells him about all the things he previously ruled out, all the things that didn't seem like enough: going for a nice dinner, driving out to the beach for a picnic, making her dinner, a walk in the moonlight.
John makes fun of him as expected but helps him plan and narrow down, continually assuring all of his ideas are good ones between teasing jabs.
Soon, Robin settles on their first three dates—for the first he's going to take her for dinner, no movie because he wants to spend the whole time with his eyes on her, not attempting to pay attention to anything else. They'll go for a nice dinner, dress up to the nines, then go for a walk along the water before they head home for the night.
He makes a reservation, and starts looking at flowers, looking at websites about flowers and their meanings, rejecting orchids (for now) because they apparently send a message of erotic seduction, a message he will not be sending—not anytime soon anyway.
It's important to him to show her that is not about the sex. Their feelings have been tied up in all the sex for a long time, and he needs to show her that that is not all they share. Assure her that he loves her, all of her, with or without the physical.
All of their recent trysts were accompanied by this idea that they couldn't resist, that they were unable to stop having sex, and it was only when she put a stop to the sex that they ended up together. He knows her well enough to know a small part of her might attribute it all to the sex, even if she's not aware of it, and he wants to firmly dispel that.
He doesn't need it, loves it with her, but loves her more. And he's going to show her that.
He decides on a Gardenia, recognizing it as a flower she said was pretty once, and one that's meaning is perfect. They are said to signify purity and joy, and connote deep, old-fashioned love, and that's exactly what he's trying to show her.
He may have been a horndog who couldn't keep it in his pants before, but Regina Mills is about to see a brand new side of him.
She's nervous, so so nervous, which she knows is silly, but she can't shake it.
This night just has such significance, they are finally together, are going on a date, and she wants to knock his socks off.
All she knows about the date is that she wasn't to have dinner, and that she should dress up.
She tried to pry more details from Robin when he came over yesterday, but he wouldn't give them. They weren't supposed to hang out yesterday, were going to save it all for tonight, but they'd been texting—have been texting constantly since they got together—and they'd both wanted to see each other.
They didn't do anything, didn't even kiss, just sat staring at each other hand in hand, moving to snuggle on her couch as they chatted about nothing.
Those three amazing words fell from their lips over and over, and she kept grinning and sighing because she was so happy.
She's never felt like this before, giggly, giddy, and gooey. Everything he does seems to make her melt, and she finds herself fawning over the smallest things.
She knows they aren't perfect, that they still have things to work through, but the weight of their separation has been lifted and for the first time she feels confident about their future.
If they made it through all of that, they can make it through anything.
She feels secure in their relationship, but she's still super nervous for this date, and it makes no sense.
She changed her outfit four times, between three dresses that all looked awesome, before she forced herself to pick one so she could start her hair.
Now looking at it all together she knows she made the right choice. It's a long, black dress, fits tight to her, open back with a generous keyhole in the front. Her hair is down and in loose curls, paired with red lips and red stilettos.
It's not a look Robin has seen before, but she knows he's going to love it.
She has no reason to be nervous, but this feels like a big deal, and she's antsy, and time is going by far too slow.
It feels like ages until he rings her doorbell, and she's already smiling as she jumps off the couch to get the door.
They are going out, she knows that, but she doesn't want to keep him waiting while she puts on her jacket so she opens the door and feels her heart thud as she takes him in.
He looks fantastic.
He's in an all black suit and that same checkered bow tie he wore to formal. There is something about a man in a suit, but especially this man, that makes her weak.
In his hand is a stunning white flower, a few leaves around it, the simplicity of it making it all the more beautiful. She doesn't like elaborate bouquets, they aren't worth it, but this, this is perfect. This single, gorgeous, perfect bloom has her heart swelling, and she leans in to kiss him before she remembers her lipstick. It's not supposed to smear, but she's never tested it before, and it's not worth the risk.
Instead, she ghosts her lips over his cheek, taking in his scent. He's wearing cologne, something woodsy, with cedar and ginger—it's subtle, a bit of his natural aroma shining through.
"That's awfully forward, Ms. Mills," Robin teases as he passes her the flower. She twirls it in her hand, smiling down at it and then at him.
"What is?" she asks as she reluctantly sets the flower down so she can grab her coat.
"Going for the kiss before the dates even started. This is only a first date, after all."
She raises her brows and snickers, "Are you going to be scandalized when I ask you to come in and spend the night then, handsome?"
He grins, "So scandalized, surely a woman of your calibre wouldn't make such an offer."
She laughs, whapping him on the shoulder as she tells him, "You are too much, you know that?"
He rests one hand on her hip, the other coming to brush away a stray hair from her face. "Just so we're clear. I do intend to court you, to woo you."
She can feel the smile that graces her face at his words. "And I love you for that."
He's grinning too as he leans in and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, "And I love you." He grabs her hand in his and starts to lead her out, "But we do need to get going so we don't miss our reservation."
"Do I get to know where we are going now?"
He shakes his head, "It's a surprise."
She sighs, "I guess that's okay."
It's only after they find a parking spot and he starts to walk her toward the water that she knows where they are going. She's never been, but she's heard great things, had picked it out as a Cora appropriate restaurant for if her mother ever visits.
They get seated at a table with a gorgeous view of the harbour, but she barely sees it, too focused on the gorgeous man she's sharing a meal with.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he remarks.
She nods, lowering her voice as she looks directly at him and comments, "It is, but I have a far better view right now."
He smirks, his gaze raking over her, "Oh, do you? It can't be as good as mine."
She chuckles, continuing to stare at him until their waiter comes over and she looks down the menu for the first time.
They order their drinks first, she's not drinking, but orders a virgin margarita to his beer, and they discuss what they are going to order while they wait for the waiter to return.
They split a charcuterie board, she orders the seafood entree and he gets the chicken, and once it's ordered, they resume flirting shamelessly.
It's so nice to have everything out in the open. It's freeing to know that he feels the same way she does, that they are here together because they want each other, want a relationship, and are in one.
Gone is the sea of conflicted emotions, replaced with elation and affection.
She tells him that, watches as his smile blooms even wider and he tells her, "I feel the same. I keep wanting to pinch myself. I almost can't believe this is real, but I know that it is. I love you so much, and I wanted for so long and…"
His voice chokes with emotion, and she reaches across the table, clasping his right hand in hers. "What is it?"
"It's just…" he clears his throat, his eyes shining, "It's even better than I ever imagined."
Her whole body goes warm and gooey at that, and she's sure it's a dopey grin she's flashing him, but she knows exactly how he feels. She never thought she'd have these soft confessions that leave her breathless, never imagined someone would stir up such feelings in her.
"It's better than I ever imagined, too. Being here with you, I just feel so lucky."
"I'm the lucky one, trust me."
She's about to argue but their appetizer arrives, so she thanks the waiter, then they both pause, waiting for the other. She giggles awkwardly as Robin gestures for her to go first, then laughs at herself over how sappy she feels over that cute, awkward moment they just had.
"I, um, we're telling people, right?" Robin asks as she nibbles on a piece of cheese.
She nods, waiting until she's swallowed to answer, "I would hope so, we're not exactly subtle."
He laughs, "That's true, I can't seem to stop smiling, and I can't stop saying it."
"I feel the same way. There is, um, if we put it on Facebook, my mother is going to insist on meeting you and berate me for not telling her myself."
"Do you not want me to meet her?"
She shakes her head vehemently, as she tries to work out how to explain this. Then she remembers it's Robin, and she's shared enough about their fraught relationship that shouldn't need to delve too deep.
"It's not that, I know you have to eventually. She's just… awful and I'd rather she didn't invade our happy bubble just yet. But maybe you could come with me for Thanksgiving? If you don't have other plans."
"If I'm here I usually do dinner with John's parents, but when we do it varies based on his dad's schedule, and I'd love to come with you. I hate that your mother is so terrible to you, but you speak so highly of your dad—I'd like to get to know him."
She smiles. "I want that, too. I wish it didn't have to come with her, but unfortunately, they are a package deal."
He's eyeing the last few pieces of their charcuterie board and she gestures for him to finish it off, she's already had too much of it, was aimlessly eating it as they chatted.
He grabs for a cracker as he asks, "Do they… do you think he loves her? The way you speak about him versus her, it's hard for me to understand how they ended up together."
"I don't understand it either. I don't think so, I don't see love when I see them, but they never divorced so I don't know. He and I don't really talk about her unless she's been particularly cruel or I need to vent about something. I will never understand how they got together, but then who would have thought we'd end up here?" she says with a shrug, trying to get back to a lighter mood.
Robin takes that in stride and teases, "Well, if you talk to John, apparently everyone."
She chuckles, "You know, Mal feels the same. I can't tell you how many times she's called me an idiot when I was talking about us, either when I was trying to convince her that you didn't have feelings or that I wasn't sure whether it would work out."
Robin reaches for the cracker he's been loading up and shoves it into his mouth, and she laughs as he finishes it in record time. He quirks a brow at her reaction, but continues the conversation, "They should start a club. John's done the same to me. But now that we've ended up where he wanted he may be regretting that."
She feels her eyebrows pinch as she asks, "What do you mean?"
She has the sudden realization that John might not support them, that he wants better for Robin than her, a notion that's quickly dispelled.
"I'm driving him crazy with how happy I am. He is happy for us, immensely, he just shows it in a… unique way."
She's familiar with that, when she told Mal she was with Robin for real now, the reaction she got was. "Finally, about time you two pulled your heads out of your butts and realized you were being stupid." When she tells Robin that, he snickers, leading her to comment, "Mal and John really need to hang out more, sounds like they'd have a grand old time making fun of us."
Robin takes her hand in his for a second, squeezing it as he tells her, "Not as grand of a time as I am having with you, love."
All she does is smile back at him, her heart too full to come up with a legitimate response aside from I love you, a sentiment they've already repeated over and over.
The rest of the dinner progresses in the same way, not so subtle glances and shameless flirting coupled with overly sappy sentiments that have her eyes watering more than once.
She's full to the brim on more than just food when they finish up. Robin makes her smile yet again when he grabs her coat for her and helps her into it, suggesting that they go for a walk in the moonlight along the water.
The view is absolutely breathtaking, as is the company. They walk slowly, his arm around her waist, her head leaning against his chest, savouring the view and this time together, unhurried and unburdened.
She almost doesn't want this night to ever end but when they start to approach the car, her heart picks up, and that soft, floaty feeling gets replaced by anticipation.
They haven't kissed at all tonight, but she knows it's coming. It's been a soft, intimate night and as much as she's enjoyed being together publicly, she's also excited to get him alone.
She wants him, wants his lips, the need isn't urgent, she's been distracted by all the romance, is perfectly content with how the night has gone, but now that they are driving back to her place, all that admiration of him starts to grow into something more.
She is weak for him in a suit, has vivid flashes of the last time she had him in a suit—when he accidentally let out his feelings—and she knows this time will be even better.
She feels hyper aware of herself as he pulls into her driveway, nerves returning for no reason as he shuts off the car.
It's not as though they haven't done any of this before, but it feels different now.
When he asks her to stay in the car so he can grab the door, she listens, taking the second to calm her shaky breath and remind herself there's nothing to be nervous about.
He opens the door and offers a hand, helping her out of the car. She ends up in his space, his scent surrounding her as the hand in hers pulls her closer.
She looks up at his beautiful blue eyes and is struck by how blessed she is to have this, to have him. She watches as his eyes flit from hers to her lips, and her mouth goes dry as his hands shift to her waist.
He leans in ever so slowly and she feels her heart stutter as his lips press against her forehead ever so softly. She expects him to go for her lips after that but he doesn't, instead pressing gentle pecks all across her face that have her smiling like an idiot. By the time his lips connect with hers, she's grinning broadly, an expression she can't seem to school in order to kiss him.
He doesn't mind at all, she feels him smile against her lips, then he's chuckling softly, pulling away to say, "God, I love you."
She melts at that, steps in closer, throwing her arms around his neck, while she presses her body into his, feeling his hand move and hearing the car door swing shut as she breathes, "I love you."
The sentiment is followed by a tender kiss that makes her knees go weak. It's gentle, unhurried and they trade slow pecks in her driveway for a while before she suggests they take things inside.
He sighs regretfully, "I want to, I do, but I meant what I said before. I want to woo you. I want to take things slow."
That surprises her, but is so sweet, and she loves him for it.
"You don't need to… I'm not complaining, I just, I love you, and you've already wooed me."
He shakes his head, "No, I haven't, not really. You'll see, and I know I don't need to, but I want to. Is that okay?"
She smiles and nods, letting their lips press together for another soft, chaste kiss. She doesn't want to leave the cocoon of his arms, wants to stay like this all night, but her feet are starting to hurt.
"I… will you spend the night? We can take it slow, I just don't want to sleep alone tonight."
She's sure that's not what he had in mind but he nods and leads her inside. They snuggle on her couch for a while, before they retire upstairs, falling asleep in each other's arms.
He wakes up with the woman he loves in his arms, and is there a more perfect way to start the day? He thinks not.
He eyes her blearily as he slurs, "G'mrning, gorgeous."
She turns onto her side, propping her head up on her arm as she tells him, "Good morning, handsome."
"Mmm, that handsome is growing on me."
She chuckles, telling him not to get used to it before she leans in and kisses him softly. They trade slow, lingering kisses until she deepens them, and he tastes the minty freshness of her mouth.
Something about the realization she'd left the bed and came back to snuggle with him has him going all soft and mushy, has him professing his love as their kisses wind down.
The slow-building, shy smile she gives him in response has him grinning back at her, one that only grows as she returns the sentiment.
They are such love sick idiots, and he loves it so damn much.
He pulls her in closer, hugging her tight to him, and basking in how right this feels. They stay cuddled up for several moments, until he yawns involuntarily, breaking the spell.
Regina gets up and out of bed despite his protests, telling him she's going to make them coffee. He reluctantly gets up too, heading first for the bathroom to remedy his morning breath.
In her bathroom sits his toothbrush. It used to sit in the drawer waiting for him, but since they started dating she moved it to sit in the holder with hers. It's a small gesture that to some would mean nothing, but it makes him smile every single time he sees it there.
The thrill of it will wear off in time he's sure, but for now, all those little things have his heart tripping over itself.
When he makes his way downstairs, she's started breakfast for them, the smell of bacon wafting at him before he enters the room. There's a bowl of eggs already whipped and ready to pour in, and there are two mugs sitting on the kitchen table, one with only the slightest amount of milk, and the one that's his.
She's made him a cappuccino or a latte, his palate not refined enough to tell the difference, and he compliments her on it after he takes his first sip of the creamy, frothy goodness.
"It's all the machine," she responds as she flips the bacon.
"Which takes skill to use."
She snickers at that, "Oh yes, following the instructions, what a skill."
"It's one a lot of people don't have."
She guffaws at that, turning over her shoulder to look at him as she comments, "That is true."
God, she's pretty. Pretty, and smart, and attentive, and inventive and…
He strides across the room without really thinking about it, wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his body against her back as he peppers kisses in her hair. She hums and leans more into him, tilting her head in a way that pushes most of her hair off to the side, he brushes the rest of it aside with his fingers so he can plant soft kisses to her neck.
"Mmm, Robin, mmm that's nice, but, um, oh, breakfast."
He smirks at how affected she is just from a few kisses, gives a quick suck to the sensitive spot, then pulls back and tells her, "I'm not stopping you."
He's no longer distracting her, but still holds her in his arms. He moves as needed, but stays holding her throughout most of the breakfast prep, only leaving the embrace to set the table at her request.
She serves them both breakfast, then they lapse into a comfortable silence as they devour the delicious meal.
He finishes first, as usual, and remarks, "I love spending my mornings like this, with you. I've always loved it, even when we weren't together, but now it's so much better."
She nods, swallowing her current bite before answering, "I know what you mean. I've always cherished the time we had together but everything is deeper now, it's just more, somehow." She grimaces and asks, "Do you regret it? All the time we lost? We could have had this so much sooner if I hadn't… If I wasn't me the break up wouldn't have—"
"I am happy with where we ended up. And I don't want to hear that, I'm in love with you. All of you. All of your complexities and complications are what make you you and I wouldn't change any of it, any of you. I love Regina Mills, not someone else, I love you, with all of your quirks. We were idiots, the both of us, but we are here now and this is true. That's all that matters."
"We were idiots," she says with a laugh, a broad smile still gracing her features.
"The biggest idiots," he pauses to take a sip of his coffee, "You know I liked you from the beginning. If I had just said when you first proposed friends with benefits that I didn't want that, we could have saved ourselves a lot of trouble. But I don't know that we'd be where we are now if we hadn't had all the trouble. I cherish and appreciate these good times in a way I don't know that I would without all of that. We've both had our issues to work through and I'm thrilled that we did and ended up together, stronger than ever."
"God, Robin," she starts, her voice soft and breathy, the way it goes when she's truly touched, "I… all these things you say. I wish I had your way with words. I feel the same about you, but I can't express it like that, and I want to."
He shakes his head, "You show me all the time how you feel, and express it perfectly. You are one of the most articulate people I've ever met, don't sell yourself short."
She gets up mid-way through his sentence and places herself in his lap as he finishes. She waits to ensure he's done, and he nods slightly as her arms wrap around his neck and her lips find his jaw, then his cheek, on her way to his lips.
He loves this casual intimacy they are exploring, physical expressions of their love that aren't sexual. There was so much sex before, and expressions of affection were wrapped up in that, but now they've separated it out and it's so nice. He'd forgotten how enjoyable it is to cuddle, stroke and kiss without expectation. He missed this form of intimacy more than he realized and is now soaking it up like a sponge.
The kisses do deepen, and Regina's hands wander as her kisses grow more insistent. He stops her, intent on slowing it down and going back to the lazy enjoyment of each other.
All it takes is his slight pull away then she's sighing, "So we're still on that no sex thing, eh?"
He laughs at her phrasing, and nods, happy when she kisses him again softly, keeping the loving, lingering mood of before he was so enjoying.
It's so much easier to resist her advances now that he actually has her, that their feelings are out in the open and reciprocated. Sex was a crutch before, a way to feel their connection, the only way they allowed themselves to do so. But he no longer has to slake that thirst like that because he can hug her, hold her, kiss her, can lean over and whisper that he loves her. He has it all now, and he's so unbelievably grateful.
He takes them out to Woolf Island and the lovely Sandy Bay beach after her Monday morning class for their second date. It's been an unusually warm fall, but it's starting to cool off. It's still warm, the high a balmy twenty degrees, but it's not typical beach weather, and thankfully, that hadn't deterred her. He chose Woolf Island over the other beaches because there's a beautiful hike out to the secluded beach. They easily turn it into a day of hiking with a short stop at the beach to eat if it turns out to be too cold to lie around.
They both brought their bathing suits on the off chance they decide to go in, but he'd be content just walking with her.
They'd spent most of Sunday together, lazing around and cuddling until she'd needed to get started on some school work. He could have worked with her, but he didn't have his laptop, so he'd headed home, their plans for this date already made.
The picnic he packed them is nothing special. He didn't want to cart around too much weight, so it's sandwiches and trail mix, but he doesn't think she'll mind. It's more about the company than anything, and this date has the bonus of gorgeous sights he can't wait to explore with her.
He truly loves being out in nature like this, going for long walks and exploring the wildlife, taking in all the beauty of how the world should be. There are so many nice spots around them, and he didn't take advantage of them last year the way he should have, but he won't make that mistake again.
It's nice to share it with someone, incredible for it to be with someone he loves and cherishes.
There are few people with them on the ferry ride over to the island, he's glad now they went on a Monday instead of a weekend because they end up walking around just the two of them.
They take in all the wonders of nature, stopping frequently to bask in it all, Regina taking several pictures with her phone.
Regina admits part way through that she's not an outdoors person, that she can't remember the last time she went on a hike, but that the scene is taking her breath away. He gets her to agree to another hike right then and kisses her in the middle of the trail.
It's freeing to be so openly affectionate.
He's already thinking about forever, thinking about coming back here with her years from now and it's way way too soon for that. While they started sleeping together nine months ago, it hasn't even been a week since they officially started dating. So he keeps that thought to himself, for now.
He keeps track of where they are in their hike, knows well before she does when they are coming up on the beach, but knowing it doesn't stop the way he gasps when they come upon it.
The water is so still it's almost glass, the large expanse of sandy shore is empty aside from them.
"Wow, Robin, this is…"
"I know, it's beautiful, isn't it?" He looks over at her and she's beaming, a sight even more beautiful than the scene in front of them.
"Thank you for taking me here."
"I'm just glad you tried it out, darling. I know you didn't think it would be your thing, but I trust I've changed your mind."
She nods, "Oh, you have… babe," she grimaces as soon as the endearment falls from her lips. It sounds wrong on her tongue somehow, and he laughs before asking if she'd like to have their picnic now.
She does, so he gets it all set up and they both take off their running shoes, pulling out but not putting on the flip flops she'd insisted they pack. They sit staring out at the water, legs intertwined as they eat.
They sit for a while, then a bit more, taking in the scene and marvelling over it.
His hand rubs up and down her back loosely as they chat aimlessly, before she makes a suggestion that has him smiling like an idiot.
"We should take a selfie, our first photo as a couple."
"I'd love that," he tells her before admitting his selfie skills are non-existent and she'll need to take it.
She takes several, and she is painfully gorgeous in each and every one but he manages to have his eyes closed or look stupid in every single one. She doesn't even try to spare his feelings as they look through them, just laughs at how bad they are.
Once the giggles have ceased they try again, and she surprises him by kissing him on the cheek for one, and finally he has a genuine smile that makes for a good picture. They take several more after that, a few silly ones and a few kissing, one of which he steals and posts on his Instagram, beating her to the punch.
"A great day with my gorgeous girlfriend" is the caption, words he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to say. She raises a brow when she reads it, then posts her own without telling him, his phone lighting up a notification he rushes to read.
"Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience" is the caption to a stunning photo set of their hike, ending with the photo of them at the beach arm in arm smiling at each other and not the camera.
God, she's brilliant, he's never heard that before but it suits them well. When he asks she tells him it's Ralph Waldo Emerson, words she apparently knew off hand, her intelligence and knowledge taking him aback once again.
Somehow when he's with her he never feels stupid, even though she is leagues ahead of him. It's one of the many things he loves about her, and when he tells her that, her nose scrunches adorably, another thing that's on the list.
"Do you want to walk along the beach for a bit?" he asks, and when she nods they put everything away, putting on their flip flops, and begin a slow walk along the sand, hand in hand. Regina steps into the water for a moment and shrieks adorably at the shock of cold.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," he teases as he switches sides with her and steps fully in. It is rather cold, but not unbearably so.
"Why don't you jump in then?" she challenges, and he has a half a mind to do it—and pull her in with him.
Instead, he walks out further, up to midcalf, pulling her along with him.
She's laughing the whole time, reaches down and splashes him before running back to the shore.
He's sorely tempted to splash her back, but he takes the high road and just grabs her in his arms, pressing her against the wet spot she caused on his shirt.
"I'm so happy to have you here with me, love," he tells her before pressing a kiss to her hair.
"I'm happy to be here, darling," she says as he sets her back down.
He can't help but tease as they start to walk again, "Oh I'm darling now? Stealing my terms I see."
She sighs, "I don't know what to call you, everything sounds dumb when I say it."
"How about heart throb?" he offers with a suggestive eyebrow raise that has her whapping him on the arm as she chuckles.
"Oh yeah, that's the one. Right up there with sugarlips."
"Ooh, there we go. How about studmuffin?"
"Boobear?"
"Pookie?"
She shudders, "Good god, that is terrible."
He nods in agreement, "It really is. Most are."
"I know, that's the problem. I want to have that but nothing seems right."
That's sweet, but, "You don't have to call me anything but Robin, you know. I love the way it sounds on your lips."
"Oh do you, Robin?"
That's her sex voice and that is unfair.
"Don't say it like that."
"I thought you liked it, Robin."
He can feel the blood rushing south and fuck. "Oh god, I do—but not now."
She's smirking as she leans her body more into him. "About to have a problem, are you?"
He shoots her a glare, or tries to anyway, he's not sure he sells it with the smile that keeps trying to break through, "If you keep that up, yes."
"We do have the blanket…" she stops for a second gesturing to the empty beach, "We could have some fun right here."
Oh god, that is a hot image and he wants it, badly, but he's determined to woo her, and in reality sex here would lead to more issues than it's worth. Still, that doesn't stop his cock from firming up in his shorts.
"We're not doing that," he tells her firmly.
"Oh, I could make that happen… but I won't. When exactly are you planning on giving it up, anyway?"
He snickers, "The third date is generally the accepted time, though I'm happy to wait longer."
She grumbles, "I'm not. You are killing me with this just so you know. It's been far too long."
"It's only been nine days since we last had sex," he points out smugly.
"Yes, but that was before. I want it more now, with all of our feelings out in the open. Everything has been more intense since we started dating, and I know it's going to be amazing."
He knows what she means, is sure it will be explosive, it always is with them, but the anticipation, the longing, all of their feelings it's going to make it that much more so.
"I thought you liked denial," he teases.
She groans, "Oh god, don't get any ideas."
"Maybe it should be date thirty, that sounds like a good number."
"I will kill you before that happens."
He laughs, "I don't think I could make it quite that far, darling. But you are precious to me and sex isn't all that we are."
"I know and I appreciate it, sugarlips."
He chuckles, "I think that's enough of that, boobear."
"Whatever you say, honey bunny."
"Oh, now there's a good one."
He's utterly surprised when all she does is shoot him a glare, so he addresses her as his bae, and things spiral from there.
They are still laughing about stupid nicknames when they make their way back to the trail and head back toward the ferry. The silliness just adds to what was a perfect afternoon.
Their third date is on Friday night, dinner and a movie at her place, and she's practically buzzing with anticipation. She had offered to cook for them, but he insisted on ordering in.
He ordered them sushi, so naturally she has to bring up that seafood is an aphrodisiac and teases him about trying to get in her pants.
The reality is of course the opposite. She's the one trying to get into his pants, is aching to have him that way again and has been since the moment they got together. She appreciates why he wanted to wait, and she thinks it was good for them to take sex off the table for a while, but they both know they are so much more than just sex, and she's antsy to have him again, to have him fully.
She's dressed comfortable but sexy for the occasion, tight black leggings he's admired many times and a skimpy red tank top, showing off a peek of the lingerie that's underneath. She bought this sheer black basque set with him in mind, and she can't wait to show it off, for him to take it off.
Maybe it's silly to be wearing it because it's just going to get removed, but she feels sexy in it, and that's what matters.
Robin seems to appreciate what it does for her boobs, she's caught him staring more than once as they dig into the feast he's brought: miso soup, tempura, edamame, sashimi and five different types of rolls. There's absolutely no way they will finish this all, but they make a valiant effort, far less ending up left over than she thought would be.
Sometimes she forgets what a boy he is, he devoured most of that sushi, popping whole pieces in his mouth that he seemed to swallow without chewing. While she ate with chopsticks he just grabbed with his hands, popping item after item into his mouth, his stomach somehow able to hold it all.
When they admit defeat, she goes to clean up but Robin stops her. He boxes it all up, puts it in her fridge, then suggests, "I know we said movie, but I was actually wondering, do you… would you want to start a show together instead?"
Oh yes, that's much better, she loves the idea on its own, but also one episode takes far less time than a whole movie.
It takes them a while to settle on a show, she keeps nixing the ones he suggests which is rather dumb considering it's delaying finally having him, but she really likes the idea and wants it to be something she'll actually enjoy.
They finally settle on This Is Us, a show they've both heard very good things about. She's sure it is a great show, but as they dim the lights and cuddle up on her couch all she can think about is kissing him senseless.
She lasts all of two minutes before she shifts from her spot burrowed in his chest, his arm around her, to kiss him. It starts out soft and slow, but all the anticipation starts to get the best of her and she deepens the kiss, her tongue flicking against his lower lip until he opens for her.
They make out heatedly on her couch for several minutes, the show all but forgotten as it plays in the background. They shift from sitting side by side to lying down, his body on top of hers as her hands roam and grope. She's missed this, missed the feel of him like this, the way her blood starts to pump faster as arousal forms. They have had so much physical contact lately and she loves it, loves being able to kiss, cuddle and caress him, had found solace in the affectionate contact she didn't realize she needed. That is special in it's own way, she wouldn't trade it for the world, but she has been sexually charged for over a week now and she's dying to work off the tension with him.
So she kisses, gropes and clutches, deepens the kisses, and pulls him more firmly against her, feeling him starting to swell in his shorts.
She wants more, but all he's doing is kissing her, his own hands holding some of his weight off of her.
They stay that way until she tugs at his shirt.
"Wait, I…" he's breathing heavily and so is she, and she can tell that he's affected from the way their torsos are still pressed together. Why is he stopping this?
He clears his throat and tells her, "I love you. We don't need to rush, we have all night," before standing up and helping her to her feet.
"I love you, too, and I want you, now," she says before throwing her arms around his neck, pouring all of her emotions into the kiss.
When it breaks, she keeps him closer and starts to trail kisses down his neck, perhaps a little overzealous but she's been dying to have this again, and she wants him just as desperate as she is.
She's been thinking about this all night, all day, and she can already feel a slickness between her thighs that has no business being there this early. That's what he does to her though, makes her hot, desperate and needy. With their feelings out in the open, the effect he has on her has only increased. She's been pushing it down, has been enjoying the way they've kept things (relatively) platonic, but she's letting it all out tonight.
Robin groans as she nips at his sensitive skin, the sounds going right between her thighs and god, they need to get upstairs or she's going to take him on this couch.
He must be feeling the same because he pants, "Love, you gotta stop that—let's go upstairs."
He takes her hands in his, moving them from their spot around his neck, and attempting to place some distance between them. But she doesn't stop, is still nipping at his neck and pressing into his erection as she suggests, "Or, you could just take me here."
"Oh, mmm," he goes to shift away but she nips him and instead he groans, "fuck, that feels so good, but, mm—I want, let's take this to your bed, please."
It's the please that gets her and she finally stops, letting him step back. He holds her hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of one hand, moving up toward her knuckles, then switches to the other. It makes her heart thud, the intimacy of it, the way he's trying to savour her just adding to the mood and making her even needier.
He flips her hands in his grasp, kisses her wrist, and she inhales sharply at the sensation, the skin there surprisingly sensitive. Robin notices of course, and peppers kisses there, even sucks gently which has her thighs clenching, a needy ache starting between them.
"To bed," she pleads, and he nods, releasing her hands as he presses a kiss to her forehead.
She takes off toward her room, knowing he'll follow her. She's practically running, can hear him laughing at her exuberance but she doesn't care.
He loves her, she loves him, and it's all out in the open now, making every touch electric, every kiss ecstatic, and she feels electricity in her veins as she waits for him to join her.
She sits herself on the edge of the bed, thinks for a second about stripping off her clothes before deciding she should leave that for him.
It doesn't take him long to join her, he's clearly as eager as she is, strips off his shirt as he enters the room, making her mouth grow dry as she takes in his fine form.
He may not have visible abs but his chest is chiselled, clear definition to it, and it's a hard plain when she runs her hand over it, which she does as soon as he steps close enough.
She trails her hand down and down, her eyes following it, until she reaches the waist of his pants.
He's so so hard and it makes her clench. She undoes his fly, his pants falling down on his hips as her hand snakes under his boxers so she can give him a firm jerk.
"Fuck, love, god you can't—"
He reaches down, stilling her hand. "You have to stop that. I can't… I'm not going to last if you do that."
"I just want you to fuck me."
He groans, his head falling down as he takes a breath, "You need to stop talking like that."
He pushes down his pants and steps out of them. She leans in, her lips ghosting over his ear as she whispers, "I thought you liked when I talk like this, Robin."
His eyes widen, then he's on her, kissing her fiercely, his hands tangling in her hair then moving down her back as they fiddle with her tank top.
When he gets it off and takes in her lingerie, he stops and steps back, gaze raking over her before he suggests in this desperate tone, "Take off your pants."
She steps off of the bed to get them off, watching how he gulps when the rest of her body is revealed to him, and props herself back up on the bed.
"Jesus fucking christ, are you trying to kill me?" he asks, and she doesn't think she's ever felt sexier in her life. "You are making it awfully hard to savour you the way I wanted to."
She grins, teasing, "Hard, eh," watching as he laughs at her terrible joke before she continues, "I just wanted you as desperate for me as I am for you."
"Well, you succeeded," he groans roughly, his tone doing things to her. Then his whole demeanour shifts, goes softer to tell her, "God, I love you so much."
Damn if those words don't make her even hotter for him. She pants out an, I love you too, then gasps when he steps in, kissing her cheek before lowering himself to his knees and pulling her thong down with him.
"You are so beautiful," he marvels as he plants a slow moving line of kisses up her thigh that has her throbbing for him.
"Oh god, Robin, I need you."
"You have me," he growls as he edges nearer, but not near enough to her sex.
"Want you inside—oh god."
He sweeps his tongue across the sensitive skin where her thigh meets her sex and it feels so damn good. She loses her train of thought, can't focus on anything but the need for more.
"Relax, love, I've got you. Just enjoy it," he breathes before returning to his task, driving her half-mad with kisses to everywhere but where she really needs them.
Then he stops, the bastard, waiting for her to look down at his beautiful face before remarking, "I'm going to make you come on my tongue, will lap and lap at you until you can't take it anymore, then I'll fuck you. I love doing this for you, love when I can take my time and rile you right up."
Well, mission accomplished. She feels herself get even wetter as he continues, "I'm going to show you how damn much I love you."
That should not be so hot, and maybe the thrill will wear off in time, but for now, it makes her clit pulse, has her palming his head and directing it to her needy sex.
He doesn't go there right away, instead kisses her belly over the basque, following the seam all the way down to her thigh.
God, she can't take much more of this teasing, she needs him now. This time when she pushes his head toward her sex he takes the direction, sucks at her inner lips then rolls his tongue over her clit lightly, making her hips buck toward his face as she gasps.
"Oh christ, that's, god, Robin. You're—yeah, like that—the best at this. God, I love you."
He stops what he's doing to return the sentiment and she would be mad at him for stopping but she's so weak for those words she just melts instead.
Then his fingers ghost over her, stroking at hyper-sensitive skin, in a way that makes her shiver, before they sink in easily. She's moaning again, crying out when he hits just the right spot and sends a flash of heat through her.
Fuck, she needs to come, and this is not going to take long at all.
She feels halfway there already, and he's not even touching her clit. It's hungry, aching for attention and when he licks all around it, she feels herself grow even needier.
When he finally licks over the sensitive bud, she throws her head back, moaning as white hot pleasure surges through her.
He is so fucking good at this it's unreal.
She starts to spiral, the firm pressure against her g-spot a counterpoint to the soft, flickering licks he's peppering her clit with.
When he starts to suck, she loses it, her nails digging into his scalp as she begs him not to stop, tells him she's about to come so hard and oh god, Robin.
He doesn't stop, letting the pleasure bubble higher until she's practically vibrating from it, her muscles tightening as her body prepares for the release he's barrelling her toward.
"Oh god, fuck, fuck, fuck, this is—god—amazing," she babbles as she crests even higher.
She feels Robin moan into her sex, he genuinely enjoys this, she knows that. He takes pleasure in getting her off, and it's so fucking hot. All of this is so hot, she's right there, right on the precipice, and it would be so easy to fall over but she holds back, relishing in the incredible feeling.
She's weightless and blissed out, mind free of everything outside of the pleasure he's bestowing on her. She feels so safe, so free, so loved and it's making this encounter better than any before it.
She means to tell him that, but as she opens her mouth to tell him, orgasm swamps her and she cries out, loud, wordless shouts as ecstasy pummels through her. That delicious heat flows out from her clit, consuming her as she trembles from the force of her orgasm.
Robin keeps it up as she shakes and shouts, until it's far too much and she pushes at his head, falling back onto the bed as her face tingles, her limbs loose and limp.
"Oh, that was…" is all she can sputter out as she tries to regain herself.
"Yes, it was," he says, grinning as he crawls up her body, leaning over and covering her lips with his.
"Fuck, love I… want you so bad," he breathes, all pent up and wanting. "But we don't have—"
"Want you, too," she breathes, not letting him finish what is a sweet but ridiculous offer. She knows that he enjoyed that, but she wants more, wants to make him feel incredible.
She manages to cajole her arms into an attempt to pull him down to her, wanting to feel the solidness of his weight against her, the safety of his embrace.
He pulls back though, shrugging off his boxers before descending on her.
He grinds himself against her panting, "Fuck, you're wet," as he kisses her desperately.
"All because of you," she says before biting at his neck in a way that makes him whimper.
Christ that's hot, as is how he groans and says, "Fuck, I cannot wait to be inside you. Need it so bad."
She loves that she's done this to him, that she's able to rile him up the same way he does her. He always puts his needs aside for her, and that just makes her want to bestow as much pleasure on him as he can take.
"Then take me," she urges, and god does he.
In an instant, he's guiding himself inside her and they both groan at the sensation of him filling her.
When he's all the way in, he pauses, gives her a soft peck and tells her that he loves her before starting up a quick pace that has her gasping.
The angle isn't quite right at first, but she hooks a leg around his shoulder, then the other and he leans down to kiss her everything lines up just right and she moans as the pleasure surges.
"Like that," she urges as she feels herself slicken and swell.
His breath is hot on her ear as he asks, "Yeah, you like that?" and she nods vigorously before mewling at the sensation.
She keeps her eyes open, watching the pleasure cross his face, the way he bites at his lip and how he looks down at her, his eyes filled with love, pupils blown with lust.
He kisses her, a soft, tender thing totally at odds with the way he's fucking her hard, and she moans into his mouth as she deepens it, relishing in how it makes him groan.
He keeps fucking her, hips meeting hers over and over, that delicious rhythm sending heat flooding through her as his gaze drops down to where they are coming together. He bites at his lip again, as her nails scour down his back, her mouth moving to his shoulder to suck and bite.
She kisses and touches every part of him she can reach enjoying immensely how he reacts to the attention. He looks sexy as sin and she feels herself catapulting toward the edge, her second orgasm building quickly.
She was never one to keep her eyes open during sex, eye contact always startling to her, but now the impulse to shut her eyes is one she actively fights. She loves the visual and those moments of connection when their eyes lock. She used to run away from those intimate moments but now she craves them. There's a newfound closeness she feels when their eyes meet as he fucks her that she basks in.
They fuck like that for while, quick and rough, yet somehow so loving, her heart swelling as the pleasure of it.
Then he switches them, using his strong arms to pull her up with him. He manages to stay buried inside her, as they rearrange chest to chest, her shifting back so she can pull off her basque, finally feeling his skin against hers.
He uses his hands to guide her hips into a rhythm because she's not able to fuck down on him when they are like this. It feels so good, he's buried deep inside her, is all around her, his hands gripping firmly on her hips, his lips trailing across her jaw, his natural scent amplified by the way he started to sweat.
It's not as intense as before, but a thousand times more intimate, and as she kisses and kisses him, she doesn't mind the wait. She likes that he slowed them down like this, that they can trade gentle pecks as he rocks her against him. He's keeping the fire stoked but not letting it build any higher.
"Oh god," she breathes, "this feels…"
"I know, I know, love. You're amazing."
She lowers her lips to his kissing him before adding, "So are you."
They keep up the gentle undoing of each other until she finds better leverage and fucks down on him a little harder.
He groans and so she does it harder, faster, until he starts to grimace, panting that he's close, so close and he can't hold out much longer, that he needs her to come for him.
She pulls him back down to where they started and he's thrusting into her hard and fast again.
"I love you. Oh fuck, are you close, love? God, please tell me you are close."
She nods, wedging a hand between them, gasping at the sharper influx of sensation when her fingers meet her clit, the friction proving to be exactly what she needs to send her reeling.
She clenches at him on contact and he gasps, and groans, "Oh god, fuck, love, I need you to…"
"I'm so close," she pants as the dual sensation drives her up higher, "just a little more, please."
"Oh fuck, I'm trying, but you feel, dear god, you feel so fucking good. Love you so much I… god, please come for me, darling."
His words and the way he looks, all pent up and desperate, and the feel of him, all mix together and send her even higher have her gasping, "Oh fuck, like that," before orgasm overtakes her.
It's intense, a hot rush of pleasure that surges through her as he stutters, his rhythm faltering as he comes inside her. He keeps moving to prolong it, her own finger strumming over her clit until the wave crests, leaving her breathless and oh so satisfied.
He collapses atop her, his weight heavy and solid above in a way that's not entirely comfortable until he shifts somehow, making the embrace comfortable, warm, and safe feeling.
They both are breathing heavily in their intimate little bubble as they come down. Their lips meet for gentle afterglow kisses, and she feels a strong surge of affection for him as they come down together, wrapped in each other's arms.
Then he marvels, "Wow, that was amazing. I didn't think that could get any better, but being able to tell you I love you during, knowing how you feel about me, wow. That was better than I ever could have imagined. I… I feel so close to you right now."
He's slipped out of her and he rolls off of her, snuggling up into her side.
She busses his lips with a quick kiss and tells him, "I feel that, too. You've shown me how much you love me so many times, and I'm so grateful."
"I'm going to keep showing you," he says, as his hand trails over her arm, making goosebumps flare in its wake.
She smiles up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his chest as she burrows herself further into his embrace. She shuts her eyes and just basks in the rightness of the moment because she cannot come up with words that adequately express how she's feeling. That was so much more than just the physical act, than the orgasms. She felt the love, the trust, the care in every movement.
"I'm so bloody lucky to be here," he breathes, and she smiles broadly.
Then she tells him, "I am, too. I love you, more than I ever have anyone and I am so grateful you stuck with me after everything. Thank you."
"There's nothing to thank me for. I'm in love with you, more than you know."
She could argue with that 'more than you know,' but she's all blissed out and complacent so she lets it slide. She listens to the comforting rhythm of his breath as it starts to slow, feeling her own settle and match his. For once her mind is blank, free of thoughts or worries, filled with the pure and simple joy of laying in the arms of the man she loves. It's perfect.
The next chapter will be the last, thank you so much for sticking by this story, I so appreciate all the support.