AN: This one is for Kytten. I'm sorry for the long pause, but school called my name. Done Beta-less.

Chapter 10

It was a long, quiet flight back to the skies over Lazytown. Sleep deprived as he was, Sportacus wasn't very talkative, simply pedaling them close to the city limits before dropping altitude for the night. Stumbling towards the bed with less than his usual amount of grace and energy, he tumbled bonelessly onto the mattress flush against its occupant. He managed to wind one arm around Robbie before he fell asleep for the second time that night.

Robbie, for his part, couldn't sleep at all. Ever since Sportacus's emotional display earlier that evening he couldn't stop the wheels in his mind from turning. What does it mean? He said "everyone he cares about". Hmph. That could mean nothing. He seems to care about absolutely everyone. His mind refused to accept the explanation, however, replaying the hospital scene over and over again. He turned his head slightly, examining Sportacus's moonlit features. A warm, tight feeling flooded his chest as Sportacus unconsciously responded to the movement, his arm possessively drawing him closer.

Do I even deserve him, even if I do have a chance? Something best not to think about, I suppose. But how to know for sure…

His mind continued to buzz with possibilities and plans until he forcibly shoved them to the back of his mind. If nothing else, he would enjoy every last moment given to him. Covering Sportacus's arm with his own, Robbie finally slept.

Sportacus stirred as a warm draft brushed across his face. His eyes shot open instantly, giving him a split-second glimpse of Robbie gazing up at him with a lazy, dreamy smile before the movement wiped the expression from his face. The man fairly recoiled, coloring in embarrassment at being caught so unawares. Sportacus smiled warmly.

"You're up earlier than I am for once! What time is it?"

"H-how am I supposed to know?" Robbie said, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I really can't move around and check, and as far as I know the only clock you have is on the underside of this sorry excuse for a bed."

Sportacus only chuckled in response. "I'm sorry you don't like it. Cheer up, though! The doctors said it would only be a month before your arm will be healed and you can use crutches. Won't that be much better, to be able to move around again?"

"I don't move any more than I have to," Robbie sniffed disdainfully, refusing to give an inch.

"But Robbie, sometimes moving can be fun!" Sportacus argued playfully. "Maybe it hasn't been fun for you in the past, but you shouldn't give up on something altogether because of a few bad experiences."

"…I highly doubt I will ever have fun doing anything…active." He shuddered, fairly spitting the word out in disgust.

"I think I'll be able to change your mind. We just have to find something that you like to do," Sportacus continued, unphased. He looked over at Robbie for a moment, an amused grin on his face, before impulsively reaching out and brushing his fingers across his companion's face. Robbie finally raised his eyes, staring at Sportacus in shock.

"…what are you doing?" He rasped, raising his good hand to grasp Sportacus' wrist.

"Your face is getting kinda rough. Hold on a minute, I'll be right back."

He sprung to his feet, flipping to the wall and hitting the trigger before ducking into the bathroom as it slid out of the wall. He took his time gathering up what he needed, giving Robbie a few moments to himself. I think I'm right. Robbie really does like me. That explains why he picks on me all the time, but…now what do I do? Sportacus mused as he filled a large bowl with water. I'm not very good at this kind of thing. Sports are easy! You can simply practice until you're really good at it and not worry about making mistakes. His chest tightened slightly with worry as he dug through the mirrored cabinet, searching for his razor. …maybe Stephanie would know about this sort of thing? She sees her uncle and Ms. Busybody all the time…Gathering up the last few things, he paused at the doorway.

I just don't want to make a mistake.

Robbie was looking somewhat sulky when Sportacus reentered the room, his arms laden with shaving gear.

"I'm perfectly capable of shaving by myself, if you don't mind, and…what is that?" he ended in a squeak, staring in horror at the blade Sportacus was holding.

"What, this? It's my razor."

"What're you trying to do, kill me? That thing's dangerous!"

"Which is why I'm helping you. It's hard to shave one-handed," Sportacus chided gently, working the shaving soap in his hands to a lather. Taking in Robbie's wide-eyed look of terror, he smiled soothingly and tapped him on the nose with one finger, leaving a smudge of white. "Robbie, you have to trust me. I'm not going to hurt you. Just hold still and relax."

Robbie opened his mouth to argue his point further when Sportacus suddenly reached out, cupping his face in both hands. He simply watched, entranced as Sportacus serenely returned the gaze, rubbing soapy fingers tenderly over the sharp angles of his face. His eyes slid shut and he unconsciously leaned into the touch as it deepened, as if Sportacus could massage away all his reservations with a few caresses. The feeling was over much too quickly, and Robbie opened one eye nervously as the pressure lifted, watching Sportacus as he raised the shaver.

"Robbie. Trust me," Sportacus smiled, his friendly blue eyes locked with uneasy gray. Robbie swallowed nervously, hesitating before closing his eyes and nodding his assent.

Sportacus reached out once more, tilting Robbie's head with one hand while the other worked with slow, smooth strokes. The frown on Robbie's forehead gradually eased as he realized Sportacus really did know what he was doing. When the last of the foam and dark stubble was cleared away, Sportacus ruffled Robbie's hair teasingly with one still-damp hand, startling him.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Grinning, Sportacus wiped a towel down Robbie's cheek while the thinner man stared at him with an incredulous expression. Gathering up his supplies, he retreated to the bathroom once more. He expression became more contemplative as soon as he was out of sight. He began to put everything away, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

More and more confusing. How do people tell the difference between someone they like and someone they really, really, really like? How do you know?

Striding out of the room, Sportacus pushed the wall panel and the bathroom began soundlessly sliding away. Cart wheeling to the larder-board, Sportacus snatched up an apple and a piece of toast before turning towards the bed.

"Robbie, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Oh...um…Just get me some of the cinnamon-sugar cereal from my trunk," he replied absentmindedly, furiously scribbling in a familiar purple ledger. Sport grabbed a tray and bowl and retrieved the requested box, frowning slightly at the resulting sugary mound as he poured. Glancing over his shoulder conspiratorially, he added a piece of toast, a banana, and two glasses of water and orange juice to the tray before depositing it on the bed.

"Do you need anything else before I go?" Sportacus asked, leaning over. Robbie protectively clasped the journal to his chest, hiding its contents.

"Not that I can think of." As Sportacus turned to go, Robbie stopped him with a gesture. "Wait…that box, over by the TV. Could you move it over here?"

Sportacus nodded, easily lifting the large container and leaving it beside the bed. "Anything else?"

Robbie shook his head. "That's it. Now off with you, blue elf. I'm sure there'll be plenty of kittens up trees to occupy you 'til nighttime. Just be back by five sharp. I want to redeem that favor you promised." And with that he turned back to his writing.

Sportacus shrugged gracefully. "Alright, five o'clock. I promise I'll be back by then." He dived over to the ladder portal and began his descent, his mind already busy.

I'd better find Stephanie fast. I only have a few hours. I hope she can help…I wonder what Robbie's favor is?

Robbie ate quickly, disdaining the healthy additions to the tray as he searched through his box of movies. What should I pick? I don't even know what sort of thing he'd like, much less if he's ever sat still long enough to watch a movie. He considered a few choices before rejecting them and returning to his search. I may only get one shot at this, so I have to pick the right one. Something that might get a reaction, tell me something…something…perfect.

His hand closed upon a slender case, raising it to the light. Robbie gave a half-hearted smile. Maybe this one. We'll see.