Title: Constant
Rated: T but make it a soft M towards the end
Summary: Regina and Robin are each other's constant through the ups and downs of life.
A/N: Contribution to OQAdvent 2019. Posting it here because yeah. Un-betaed.
He's always been right there, next to her, every step of the way.
But she's normalized it, has become used to it.
It's natural, having him next to her when her father dies when she's fifteen. Fifteen and knows as much about life as he does, knows as much about her as she does. But he's friends with her, has been friends since he'd met her in fifth grade. So it's natural, normal, right that Robin is there, rubbing her arms up and down as he tries to comfort her.
He's there and it's right.
It's just right having him carry her home the first time she gets drunk. Right, having him sleep next to her with the door open because her mother knows better, suspects things that to them are nothing but ridiculous.
Ridiculous, she tells her.
Absolutely ridiculous for Robin, Robin is like her brother. Robin who gives her dating advice. Robin, who constantly asks for advice of his own.
Ridiculous.
They're just great friends. Family. That's all.
Yet he's always been there, right next to her when their plans crumble to ashes the moment she finds out she's pregnant, months before heading off to college. Next to her, calming her down when her head goes ahead of herself, when she thinks her life has ended, has been ruined.
He's there.
There when she considers abortion, holds her hand firmly in his inside his car as the hours go by, as the tears abate and she just can't bring herself to walk into that office.
There when she break things off with her unborn baby's father, both recognizing they don't work out as a couple at all. Thankfully Daniel chooses to be in the picture, helping out, economically and physically, helping turn half of Regina's room into a nursery of sorts. A bit crowded, but perfect.
He's there. Robin, right next to her and Cora when Henry makes an entrance to the world, screaming bloody murder as soon as he arrives and he laughs, cries, then laughs again when he's mistaken as the father of the child, only to be apologized to profusely when Daniel finally arrives, moments later, sweat and grime clinging to him.
He's there, not as often though, when she begins co-parenting with Daniel. He decides to give her space, space to figure out motherhood, not wanting to overstep. But three weeks in she's breaking down, calling him over at three in the morning for some emotional support. And he's there, there again in a second, sitting next to her on her bed holding his godchild against his chest, the small babe still wailing.
And then he's still there later, Henry long asleep, holding Regina close as she weeps her frustrations away, but knowing (hoping) deep down it'll get better.
He's there.
For Henry's first Christmas, putting on a tiny hat and soft fake beard on his godson, taking pictures after pictures as Regina laughs.
He's there for his first birthday. His first steps. He's there.
He's there when Daniel isn't.
When his job is too demanding, his flights get delayed or ultimately cancelled, and he whispers his apologies to a toddler's ear.
But Robin takes care of Henry. Takes him to his swimming lessons when Regina can't. Takes him to the park when Regina is working, or when she needs a breather. He's always there.
He's there. Cooking mac and cheese in her kitchen because his is ten times better than Regina's, a fact Henry doesn't let them forget.
He's there, even while dating, even when he's not there physically, he's there mentally. Talking about his godchild, about this new trick the kid learned at swimming class when the conversations between him and his date has gone awry.
Robin's there, even when his father warns him that the Mills family is holding him back, that the single mother is preventing him from having a family of his own. (They're my family, a voice utters urgently inside his head). But he'll prove him, he'll prove him he's doing great, he'll prove Richard his friendship to the Mills family hasn't messed up his game.
So he's there for Henry's first day of school, but isn't there to see how his day goes, instead he just calls. Calls and she answers. And Henry excitedly goes off and on about his first day, as Robin prepares for a date with a girl he feels he's clicked with.
Finally.
He's there, watching from afar as Regina runs next to Henry's bike, loudly laughing as the little tyke takes off on his own without training wheels, and he cannot help but smile in pride, their laughter contagious, and there's a tug in his heart at the fact that he hasn't seen them in two weeks, Marian and work and adulthood has kept him busy. But he's got news to share with them, wonderful news and just when he's about to call their name, the little boy is squealing his name, running from his fallen bike to him, and Regina just smiles warmly, eyes shining.
"I want to marry her," he mentions later that day, when Henry is going down the slide in her backyard with Poncho, the neighbor's dog.
"I'm happy for you," she whispers as she pulls him down for a long drawn out hug. A hug he reciprocates, holding her for a bit longer than necessary. "Marian is a wonderful woman. I'm sure she'll make you very very happy, as you will make her." She says sincerely, hands going up and down his back as he takes in a shaky breath, eyes shining, soft smile.
"I'm nervous," he confesses, swallowing hard.
But Regina simply shakes her head on a chuckle and reaches for his hands. " That's good. It means you care." And after a moment, she continues. "Marian is crazy about you. Stop overthinking it, and just do it."
And Robin just nods, swallows hard and turns to look at Henry's.
"How's he doing in school?" He asks, changing the topic.
"Amazing. He's now reading his own bedtime stories instead of me. Can you believe that? I no longer have a baby." She finishes, pouting as she turns to him slightly then back at the child.
And it's there, the elephant in the room. Daniel. Robin wonders about him, all the time, mostly in anger at him lacking the interest on his godchild that Robin knows Henry craves (deserves). And so he cannot help himself but ask. "And Daniel?"
Regina's lips crack, rolls her eyes slightly before sighing, a sad thing. "Daniel is planning on visiting next month," she murmurs, staring straight at Henry.
And that's an answer he certainly wasn't expecting.
"Really? That's good! Great actually!" He replies, tries to sound as ecstatic as he should be but instead he feels something… different settling on his stomach, something akin jealousy, a jealousy he has no right to feel. He looks at Henry at that moment, feels his throat closing up slightly because damn, he's really been distant these past few months, and in doing so he's missed quite a few things. He's missed him losing his first tooth. Missed him at that beach trip Regina had invited him to. Just missed him. And now his father is coming back, and yeah, sure, yes, Robin is in no means the boy's father, but he feels for him deeply, loves him deeply, and he can see that Henry hasn't missed him too much, can see that the boy has gotten slightly used to him not being around that much and the fact breaks his heart.
"With his wife, and his stepson," Regina whispers after a moment.
He just stares at her, jealousy giving way to anger and anxiousness as he shakes his head, swallowing hard. "Oh?" He says, biting his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from saying something else.
He has no right.
"Be nice," she says as she rolls her eyes, but he knows her, knows she's preoccupied with that fact, and her staring intently at Henry is proof enough.
He has no right.
And yet he whispers, mindful of Henry's little ears. "Please, don't tell me it doesn't piss you off."
"Of course it does," she replies quickly on a scoff before shaking her head. "It angers me but there's nothing I can do about it. Because I have him," she whispers turning to meet his gaze, "to look after. I can't let the anger win because whatever I am reflects on him, and that's something I don't want for him."
He sighs at that and shakes his head, turning to glance at Henry again. They stay quiet for a few moments, shoulders slightly touching as Henry's squeals can be heard across her backyard.
"What did he say?" Robin asks after a moment, feeling that tug in his heart, that constant need to protect him, protect them. They're his family.
"He's a little boy, Robin. He's just excited at the prospect of seeing his Papa again," Regina finishes on a shrug.
"You know, if you need anything—"
"We'll call," she nods on a small smile.
He tries to be more present after that.
Tries to be there for Henry, for whatever the boy needs. He takes him to the park more often, to museums, to aquariums and loves the relationship he's developing with Marian. Loves the fact that they both love dinosaurs, that Marian with her vast knowledge can answer every little question the boy asks. Every theory. Every fact. And so while the two of them find themselves in a conversation about which was cooler, an allosaurus vs a T-rex, Robin finds himself smiling at the two while he tends to the simmering pot in front of him. The only thing missing from the picture is Regina, probably next to him commenting just how exhausted she is of watching Dinosaurs. Clearing his throat, Robin shakes those thoughts off his head and announces that dinner is served.
And for the rest of the evening he doesn't think of the empty chair next to Henry, and focuses on Marian and Henry's conversation.
He's there a few weeks later when Henry calls, sobbing, and his questions aren't answered, instead sobs are thrown his way and God, he knew, he knew seeing Daniel would be a bad idea, he just knew it. The urge to protect them, protect him comes easily and instantly he's there, knocking on her door desperately. She answers, eyes puffy, nose red and she throws her arms around him crying softly, to which he pulls her closer, closes the door behind him and just comforts her.
"Where is he?" He whispers after a moment, when her sobs are reduced to a few sniffles and her arms fall from around him.
"His room," she replies sadly, before stepping away. Robin squeezes her hand, promises he'll be back soon and then walks slowly to Henry's room.
When Robin walks in, wiping his own tears, the sight makes him almost want to cry again. There he is, his six year old godson curled into a ball, hugging his Dinosaur plush toy, the one he'd gotten him for his fourth birthday, close, sniffling into it. He just sits on the edge of the bed, his hand going to his back, rubbing it slightly and Henry just cries harder into his pillow, pulls it closer when Robin tries to break him away from it.
"She's not mad Henry," Robin whispers, knowing the boy must also feel guilty over locking himself up with Regina's phone in order to ring him. "I'm not mad either," he whispers. But the boy doesn't budge, though his cries come out softer. So instead Robin settles into the twin bed, back resting against the headrest as he just waits for the little boy, tells him so, as he rubs the small boy's back, offering some comfort.
"He's having a baby," the six year old whispers after a moment, when his sobs have subsided, much too serious for his age and he turns to lay on his back, gazing up at the solar system Robin helped paint on his room's ceiling last year. "I know he'll love it more than me. He already does."
"Henry he doesn't."
"He'll live with them. He'll see the baby everyday, not over the phone, but everyday. He'll take care of it. He'll teach the baby to ride a bike, to swim, he'll read stories to it and probably sing to him. He'll do all the things he didn't do with me."
Robin just stays rooted in place, not knowing what to reply, how to comfort him. So he pulls him close, hugs him, drops a kiss to the top of his head and clears his throat. "Your father loves you," Robin begins, but Henry just shakes his head and lets out a shaky breath before he's crying again, against his chest. "Hey, Hey, that's okay my boy. Just get it all out." And when the boy has quieted down again, after several minutes, he continues. "Listen to me Henry, your father loves you. He loves you in his own way, but there's love there."
When the boy remains unmoving, Robin just sighs and cuddles him closer. "When you were born he took three plane rides, and ran for half an hour just so he could see you for the first time, just so he could hold you for three minutes."
"Three minutes!?" The boy said, eyes bulging, suddenly interested in the story and Robin breathes a sigh of relief inwardly, feels his lips cracking into a grin.
"That's right, three minutes! Because the nurse had to take you away for the night, to feed you and make sure you were okay so you could come home," Robin finishes nodding.
The boy smiles gently, then frowns, sits up and turns to face him.
"And you. Where were you?" The boy asks.
Robin clears his throat, smiling at the memories of that day. One of the most crazy days of his life. He'd been there, helping out with the last touches to Henry's bedroom along Cora, because he'd wanted it to be perfect, near perfection, as Cora had. Then she had come in, absolutely shell shocked, looking at him and he'd worried, instantly, but then had frozen in place when she mentioned her water broke.
"Well I. I was there. With your mom."
"Did you hold me for three minutes?"
"Well I… I couldn't. I was scared," Robin replies truthfully.
"Scared?" The little boy frowns at him, with his big hazel eyes, a bit wet from the tears, but Robin just smirks, thanks the heavens for he's distracting Henry from his thoughts, and wipes his tears, thumb caressing the young boy's small cheek.
"Terrified," he confesses to which Henry gasps. "I had never before held a baby in my arms. And you were so tiny, such a wriggly little babe, and I was so afraid I'd break you, or hurt you."
"You'd never hurt me," the boy replies so sure of himself, so sure of Robin that the older man has to take a deep breath, eyes filling slightly with tears for he loves him, God, he loves him so much.
"You're right, Henry. I wouldn't."
"Or my mom," the boy replies.
"Or your mom," he confirms with a grin.
The boy remains quiet for a minute, thinking and then he's smiling sadly.
"I wish you would've hold me for three minutes too."
"Henry," he whispers for he knows it's wrong of the boy to want to forget about his father, but he doesn't have it in his heart to reprimand him for Henry hasn't known any better, his father hasn't behaved like that.
The boy just looks at him with a small smile and hugs him. And he just holds him for more than three minutes, until he's snoring against his side, sleeping peacefully next to him and for a minute Robin imagines it, being Henry's father. How incredibly lucky he would've been, for Henry has a heart of gold, a purity in it that sometimes makes him want to be like him. How blessed he would've been. To take care of him more than he's used to, to be there for him as a father's supposed to. To give Henry the love he absolutely deserves from a father.
Swallowing hard, Robin drops a kiss to the top of Henry's head and stands from the bed, tucks him in just how he likes it and just stares for a couple of minutes.
When he leaves the room, he finds Regina drinking a glass of scotch way too fast for his liking, his own waiting for him by the counter, a half emptied bottle next to it and oh no, that's no good.
"How is he?" She asks, not meeting his eye, instead looking straight ahead across the kitchen to a spot on her dinning table.
"He's currently sleeping. Hopefully having pleasant dreams."
She just shakes her head, eyes filling up with tears. "Hey hey," Robin whispers, grabbing her glass and putting it away as he pulls her in for a hug on unsteady legs. "It's not your fault," he whispers.
"I should've known. I should've known. I realized it too late, Robin. And now Henry, Gods," she drunkenly whispers against his neck.
But he just silences her by pulling her closer, kisses the top of her head much like he did with Henry and he just holds her, holds her until she sighs and tries to take a step back, only for her legs to give out and Robin to reach out and hold her up.
Close, she's too close, her breath mingling with his and he remembers daydreams just like this, several years ago when he'd wished for a moment like this. He can't help it, presses his forehead to hers, ignoring every alarm going off in his brain and instead just remains that way, staring at her, her glistening unfocused orbs with his own and he shouldn't, shouldn't, but she's there, right there like he'd wished and.
One
Two
Three seconds later he's pressing his lips against hers, lightly, just barely meeting and he leans back, quickly, swallowing because she's Regina, the mother of his godchild, his childhood friend, his constant.
"Robin," she whispers, frowning at him even through glassy eyes, as confused as he is by the moment but he just shakes his head, laughs nervously.
"Let's get you to bed," he whispers, clearing his scratchy throat.
Regina just stares at him, silently, stares as he leads her to her bedroom. Stares as he fixes the bed for her, pulls back the covers, and leads her gently to bed. She sits, still staring at him, as he helps her out of her combat boots, pulls off her socks and pushes her on the bed, throwing a light fleece over her. And just when he's about to turn around to leave, Regina holds him by his arm, and he meets her sleepy gaze.
"Thank you," she whispers, a moment of clarity in her much tipsy self, and he's about to reply but she beats him to it. "For all you do for us. For Henry. For me. You don't have to, Robin and yet you still do it. Why?"
And he just chuckles sadly and swallows hard, shakes his head before replying. "Because you guys are my family, Regina," he says, getting teary eyed, his throat closing up but then he offers her a small smile. "Now get some rest. It was a long day."
Regina nods sleepily, lets go of his arm but he feels her gaze on him even as he closes her door behind him. And when he lays wide awake on her couch later that night, he can't stop thinking about his actions tonight.
He's still there in the morning, making Henry the french toasts he likes so much and it's normal, regular, Regina doesn't look at him like the night before, instead she's back to her old self and Robin feels relieved, relieved that in her slightly inebriated state she forgot about last night, when he pretty much–
No.
She's forgotten.
Thankfully. Thankfully because he behaved poorly, took advantage of her and just the thought is enough to turn his stomach. He shouldn't have. Especially since he knows, deep down, that he'd wanted that kiss under much different circumstances. Especially when Marian had been so understanding the moment he left their apartment last night. No. He's an ass. He's engaged. His father is right.
He takes a step back from her, and though Marian had been angry at first at his confession (he could never lie to her), they work over their issues immediately.
Which is why he's here, standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her to walk down it, yet his heart does flip flops when he sees seven year old Henry walking, smiling smugly as he carries the rings down the isle, hair slicked back, tuxedo in place and that beautifully amusing red tie with small dinosaurs that Marian got him "He shouldn't look too grown up at our wedding, Robin," his fiancé had said the moment she laid eyes on the tie and looking back on it now, Robin couldn't have picked a better outfit for Henry. He catches sight of Regina from the corner of his eye, staring straight at her kid, taking picture after picture smiling lovingly and when Henry stands proudly next to him, Robin pats his shoulder gently, and glances quickly at Regina. He flashes her a gentle smile, which she replies with one as well until she turns her head to the right, towards the entrance of the church and he follows her gaze, his eyes landing on Marian, beautiful Marian in her white gown, and he grins.
He's there, offering Regina a hand when she stands up to leave his wedding reception, a sleepy Henry on her arms, and he's too big, he's too big for her already, but she just shakes her head and offers him a small smile. "I got it. It's been ages since the last time he let me cuddle him, so this works on my favor." Marian and him chuckle and Regina just flashes a smile their way. "Congratulations again, please take tons of pictures in Rome," she finishes, smiling as Marian assures her they will, drops a kiss to Henry's cheek and then she's turning around and walking farther away from him. A strange feeling settles on him, something about watching them leave feels so final so he walks after them, behind the excuse of going to the open bar quickly, but Marian is too busy talking to her bridesmaids so she just nods and continues with her conversation.
He's there, watching from afar as she places Henry on the backseat of her SUV, the little boy still dead to the world as she buckles him, kisses him softly and closes the door, then drives away. He just stares, frowning slightly until a hand touches his shoulder, and he turns to talk to yet another guest of the wedding.
He doesn't see her as often as before, married life changed that for him, there are certain boundaries set, but it's different with Henry. He's there for his Christmas recitals, he's there to take him to watch the latest superhero movie, he's there on his birthday, and sometimes Henry stays at his and Marian's house, their guest room turning more and more into Henry's own room as time goes by.
Life is good for him, for them all.
He knows she's back in the game, dating, and he's happy for her, truly. Even Daniel is visiting more frequently, trying to build his relationship with Henry and it seems it's working. The boy talks about him more frequently, and his voice is no longer laced with disappointment and an edge of fear, but excitement. An excitement that grows every time Daniel visits.
He's happy.
Extremely happy.
Even though there's a slight tug in his heart whenever Henry mentions his mom's new friend. But it was bound to happen, he's married now, trying to build a family with Marian so it's normal, it's normal for Regina and Henry to move forward, move on. Yet when he meets the man, at Henry's ninth birthday party, he cannot help but frown. Frown at the way Henry laughs openly with the man, frown at the way the man just casually steals kiss after kiss from Regina, frown at the way he's easily handing out slice after slice of cake, looking like the perfect man. The perfect step father.
Jealousy, a voice whispers in his head.
Jealousy because for the first time in years, Henry doesn't ask him to play with him air hockey during his birthday party, no, instead it's Samdi.
Samdi, who lets him win, game after game.
Samdi who carries a passed out Henry to his room later that night when Henry invited them over after his party ended, only lasting ten minutes awake when he got home.
Samdi who moves around Regina's kitchen with a familiarity that causes something in him. He's placing 4 glasses on the island, pouring a bit of scotch in them and when he turns to Regina, he winks and hands her her glass.
Samdi, who thankfully leaves at the same time they leave Regina's house.
"He's taking a job down in New Orleans," Regina whispers four months later over a cup of coffee at the pier, smiling sadly at Robin. It's been ages since they've gotten together, just the two of them, outside of double dates, outside of Henry.
His throat closes up, his stomach churns in anxiousness, he feels the urge to tell her no.
And he should say something, should say no, should mention how much he's going to miss Henry (and her by default), but he doesn't. Instead Robin stays silent, his heart beat beat beating loudly inside his chest. He should've known that when she called to meet up it'd be to share some devastating news. And this is as devastating as it can get.
"He's planning on not taking it. Says he wants to stay here, with Henry and me. I mean I know how much that means to him, Robin. I refuse to be the reason who'll hold him back. I just can't. So we parted ways, planned to keep in touch."
"You're not leaving?" He asks on a whisper and Regina rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
"I can't believe that's the only thing you got out of that!" She finishes on a dry chuckle, but then her eyes are watering, and Robin's sighing, reaching for her hands across the small table. "I really liked him. I may have even loved him, but I simply can't uproot Henry out of nowhere," she finishes turning to face him, eyes brimming with tears. "I promised him stability the moment he was brought into this world, I'm not going to stop now. I mean, Gods, we've known each other for seven months. Moving with him? To somewhere entirely opposite of Storybrooke? With a kid? No, no, that's the definition of instability."
He pulls her in for a hug then, hugs her and rubs her back until she can no longer stay still and breaks away. "Gosh I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying to you about this. It's pathetic," she says, angrily wiping her tears. "I mean you have Marian to go home to."
"Marian understands, Regina," He whispers, and just then his phone goes off, the picture of his wedding day lightning the whole cellphone. And Regina just arches her brow amusedly, to which he chuckles.
"You sure you'll be okay?" He asks after shaking his head, and offering her a sad smile.
"Yes," Regina replies with a nod, smiling sadly and shrugging. "Samdi will drop off Henry at any minute. I'm sure he'd love nothing more than to cuddle with me."
To that Robin smiles and nods.
"Well don't doubt calling me if you need me."
She nods and he leaves, half sipped cup of coffee in her hand, and Robin takes a chug of his cup, but grimaces at the lukewarm drink before he's answering his phone.
.::.
She's there five months later.
She's right there, hugging him the moment she opens the door to him, rubbing his back up and down as she whispers how sorry she is and he just cries, cries, cries because Marian's cancer is back and she's four months into her pregnancy. And it's unfair, unfair that cancer would rob them of the beauty of a pregnancy, would instead bring up new questions, new stress, new wonderings. "You have to be strong for her. But for now, I'll be strong for you, okay?" She whispers against his hair, sniffling too and he just nods and she holds him tighter and tighter, holds him until he feels ready to face reality again. But for that moment, for that moment he turns to his constant.
She's right there, a hand on his back moving up and down as they sit in the hospital's waiting room, hours after Roland's delivery. She mentions words of support, of how he has to be strong now for Roland. Takes pictures of his son, of him, of what should be the happiest day of his life. But he feels stress, stress for the unknown, anxious to get Marian on therapy.
He's strong.
For months, he juggles parenting a baby and helping Marian out. Like a superdad, Henry had said.
And she's there, Henry in tow, helping out whenever they can. She changes Roland's nappies while Henry prepares the formula and he uses those moments to be with Marian, rubs her back as she empties the contents of her stomach for the umpteenth time that day and tells him how sorry she is. But she's not getting better, hair's getting thinner, bones visible over ghostly skin, and it's not fair, it's not fair Marian doesn't get to go through the joys of motherhood because her body's giving up on her.
She's there.
In the hardest day of his life, she's there, sitting on the muddy ground next to him, not caring for her clothes, her shoes, her hair, no. Instead she stays there, next to him, hand on his shoulder as he cries silently, Marian's headstone in front of them. She leaves him, after a moment, allowing him the privacy he suddenly craves. And Robin cries, cries the loss of his wife, of Roland's mother, cries the fears of parenthood away.
She's still there, hours later, waiting by his car, clothes wet, and he just hugs her, hugs her until he feels a little bit lighter, hugs her until they're both trembling, the coldness of fall seeping in.
That night, she helps him out of his shoes, out of his muddy clothes and tucks him into her bed. "Take all the time you need," she whispers, drops a kiss to his forehead and leaves him. Leaves him to go downstairs to take care of their kids.
And when Robin erupts from her bedroom the following morning, it's to a Regina sprawled on a mattress in the middle of her living room, Henry cuddling to her side and his hand gently resting on Roland's back, the infant sleeping peacefully on Regina's chest. And, the image lessens the pain.
She's there when Roland says his first word a few months later, rushing to his home the moment he calls her, celebrating with the little boy as Henry tries to get him to say his name to no avail, and for the first time in five months, Robin feels pure unadulterated happiness and no guilt.
He calls her over an evening when Roland is two and he just can't sleep. And she expertly carries his toddler around the house as she instructs him to warm up some milk, mix some honey and a dash of cinnamon. He asks Henry if he wants some, but the eleven year old shakes his head, mutters something about how he's a grown up now, and Regina just chuckles as does Robin as he pours some of the milk to a sippy cup, and saves a little bit for Henry, for he knows the pre-teen will want some later.
She's there, Roland in her arms snoring lightly as she just stares at him, smiling when Henry lets out a soft snore too next to her, his empty mug of milk on the coffee table. Robin just stares, stares at them a small smile on his face.
"He's an angel," she whispers, brushing one ringlet away from Roland's forehead. The toddler simply turns closer to her, letting out a content sigh the moment his head rests against her chest. Regina accommodates herself better on the sofa, Roland frowning and tensing slightly before he's dead weight again and Regina just smiles lovingly, touching his hair lightly again.
"Thank you," he whispers after a moment, sitting at the arm of the sofa, his hand moving to fix Henry's head against the cushion least he wake up with a cramped neck. "For all you do for us."
"Well," she smiles, eyes glistening slightly before continuing. "You guys are our family."
And Robin? Robin knows that to be true.
.::.
She's there, a weeping mess next to him, and he supposes he could cry too, cry because Henry's graduating middle school, and he's proudly shaking the principal's hand, grinning towards where they are as he walks down from the podium. He hears Daniel applauding proudly next to him, but his main focus now is Regina, who takes Roland swiftly from his arms, carrying him close to her as she drops kiss after kiss, his son dissolving into a fit of giggles, as Cora simply smiles down at them and then eyes him curiously.
"Please don't grow up as fast as Henry, Ro," she whispers, to which the young boy simply giggles.
"I promise I'll do my very best!" The boy replies and Regina just holds him close, presses her face close to his cheek as she tries not to sob at the fact that her baby boy is no longer a baby.
"High school," Robin whispers later that night, arching his brow at her.
Regina just shakes her head with a grimace. "Please shut up," she says before giving him a pout, remembering quite well the conversations and the actions they were involved in during their time in high school.
"I'll probably pay now for all I did to my mother back then," she says on a grimace, as she gently places a light blanket over a sleeping Roland, Henry having gone off with Daniel for a week getaway with the Colters.
"I mean you weren't that bad," Robin says as he picks two mug from her cupboards, serving them tea. "You were always studying, it was around your senior year though, that you got difficult." Robin says with an amused grin as he hands her a mug and then taps it against hers.
"And I wonder whose fault that was," Regina replies, arching a brow as her eyes follow him moving about her kitchen, wiping down the counters and then standing in front of her across the island. And she ignores the familiarity of it, the domesticity behind their actions as Spongebob's voice can be heard as a background noise, his son sleeping soundly in the couch, their shoes left lined up by the door, him, him blowing air into the cup Henry made for him when he was six.
"Well don't you look at me," he says grinning, hands up feigning innocence, shaking her from her deprive.
"You got me a fake ID," she mentions on a snort. "You sneaked in cheap beer at our Homecoming dance oh oh oh and you made me cut class to smoke pot. You actually did that." She replies, grinning comfortably at the blush that's beginning to set on Robin's face only for him to let out a dramatic gasp at her last comment.
"I did not force you to cut class."
"We were lab partners, I wasn't about to head in there alone. I could've easily blown the whole school down!"
"Oh those high school days," he says grinning as he takes another sip of his tea and then clears his throat. "I've got to head out now. It's getting quite late and Roland has quite the weekend ahead of him."
"Oh," Regina says on a frown, standing up from the bar stool and crossing her arms in front of her chest, clearing her throat for she wasn't expecting to feel that disappointment in her. "Yeah. Sure," she shrugs and then scrunches up her nose. "This house is going to be so empty these days. It's crazy."
Robin just bites his lower lip and nods.
"Anyways, I've gotta—"
"Oh yeah, yes. I'll see you… when I see you," she replies leaning in for a hug, a hug he returns with as much fervency.
She texts Henry that night, hoping he's okay and he replies instantly, send her pictures of him and Daniel and Erica, Henry's little sister who's halfway his height and Regina smiles, a part of her happy that Henry has found peace with Daniel, knowing deep down it's Robin the boy looks after. It's just when she's about to wish Henry good night that Robin texts her.
Roland will stay with his grandparents tomorrow. Want to go have reckless fun?
Hell yeah!
He's there at 8, picking her up with a sly smile and it's not a date, she knows it's not one, so she shakes the nerves off of her, kisses his cheek and just walks to his car.
They needed a moment like this. Needed a moment to just be, without kids, without the stress of parenthood on the back of their heads. No, tonight they're not Mom and dad. No. They're just them, Robin and Regina.
He's there, laughing loudly as they walk side by side along the pier. She wraps her arm around his, pulling herself closer to him as she tries to get him to shut up, to quiet down his laughter least they end up embarrassing the two teenagers they've walked past, eating each other's mouth awkwardly.
"It's like that time I caught you kissing Archie Hopper," he whispers, smirking all the while.
"Oh come on," Regina says groaning as Robin throws his hand over her shoulder, ready to continue teasing her.
"I always wondered if he was a great kisser," he mutters, face deep in thought.
"Shut up," she replies laughing loudly, remembering how still Archie had stayed as she kissed him, and kissed and kissed.
"I was so jealous," he says after a moment, as they stop to lean against the railing, both staring straight ahead at the calm sea.
"No you weren't," Regina whispers, bumping her shoulder against his.
But Robin shrugs and then chuckles. "You were the prettiest girl in school, and there you were, kissing Hopper out of the goodness of your heart."
"He hadn't had his first kiss. I felt bad for him," she says on a pout, crosses her arms in front of her chest and then turns to face him. "Prettiest girl, huh?" She asks on a smirk.
"Yes. Especially with the glasses."
She rolls her eyes at the jest, and scoffs. "You're an ass."
But he just chuckles and kisses the top of her head.
He's there, leading her up the steps of her porch and into her home, not wanting to say Goodnight, not wanting to part ways, but he does. They do. He kisses her cheek gently, Regina slightly melting against him and he swallows hard, forces himself to take two steps back until he's walking back into his car and just stays there, for a moment, pensive with his hand on the steering wheel. Robin turns to look at her porch, swears he sees movement on the corner of one of her windows and shakes his head. Ignoring that now familiar feeling settling low in his belly.
And as he sets off in the direction of his own home, Robin feels as if he's just lost his chance.
.::.
He's there, sitting in front of Henry on the edge of his bed, the sixteen year old boy clearing his throat in awkwardness as he takes the small package from Robin's hands.
"This is by no means permission from your mother or me. But we've realized that in the end you will make your own choices when it comes to sex, just as your mother and I did when we were your age. We're just hoping you face those choices with intelligence and responsibility."
Henry just stares at him, red faced, nodding at him.
"If you ever, you know, have any questions. I'd much rather you try to clear them up with me than with the outside world. Got it?" Robin asks, even though he feels his heart breaking slightly. He remembers his pudgy cheeks, remembers his first cry as he'd been delivered, remembers the first time he held him, close to his chest, eyes tearing up for he was so little, so so little.
And he's now grown up. Gods, it feels like yesterday he first dressed him up as Santa, putting a fake bear over soft baby skin just for the laughs, making way for great pictures, and now…
"Got it," Henry replies, voice deeper, interrupting him from his thoughts.
Robin's throat constricts, and he clears it up, nods and then stands up to leave.
"Hey Robin," Henry calls just as soon as his hand twists the door handle. Instead he turns to face him, questioning look on his face. "I think I made a mistake."
Frowning, Robin walks back to Henry's bed, sitting on it once again, but before he can ask, Henry's continues.
"I asked Jacinda to go with me."
"Okay?" Robin replies.
"Well I wasn't entirely honest with you, and Mom."
"Oh?"
"Jacinda and I agreed to go together because we had no choice."
"Henry you're not making any sense."
"Joseph got to Violet before I could," the teen chuckles darkly, biting the inside of his cheek and Robin feels for the kid, recognizes the jealousy and slight heartache in his eyes, but before he could say anything, Henry continues. "He was actually asking for ideas, on prom proposals and I gave him a few. But I didn't think, I didn't expect him to ask her, I mean he knows how much I like her, Robin. But I saw him, I saw her. So they're going, together, and I just," the teen shakes his head, annoyed and Robin just shakes his head and sits next to him, back against the headrest like he's done countless of times.
It brings back so many memories.
So many.
And so he chuckles and shakes his head.
"Wait for her," is what Robin says, softly, eyes glancing slightly at the door before turning to look at Henry. "Joseph won't spend the entire night glued to Violet's side. No, he'll hang out with his buddies, he'll forget about the girl for a moment and that's your chance, that's when she'll come, looking for you, just to have a small talk but listen to me Henry, that's your chance. That's your chance of entertaining her. Make her laugh, dance, and by the end of the evening, Joseph will be long forgotten."
"Is that what you did?" Henry asks, eyes bright, hopeful, and he looks almost like a little boy again, trusting him fully, looking down at him from the edge of a pool before throwing himself at him.
And Robin just swallows, and quiets down, feels a tug in his heart as his mind is clouded with memories. How he'd ignored her for the evening. How he'd focused on Cynthia, on making her laugh, until the gym had cleared out, and Regina was nowhere to be seen.
"No," the older man replies sincerely.
"And what happened with her?" Henry replies, frowning, trying to get as many answers as possible.
"She—"
And just right then, the door to Henry's room opens, and Robin jumps as he turns to the sound. Just then, Regina's head pops in, a gentle smile on her face as she announces that dinner is ready.
Robin smiles and nods, confirms they're heading down soon, to which Regina grins and nods, glances quickly at Henry, a slight pain reflected on her eyes before she's closing the door again, allowing them some privacy. But he feels Henry's eyes on him, searching, questioning and.
"It was mom," Henry says slowly, and when he turns to face the boy he sees his eyes wide open, as if the realization just hit him straight in his chest.
But Robin just stays quiet, staring straight ahead at Henry's closet in the wall across the bed. Henry doesn't say anything, instead lays his head on Robin's shoulder and sighs. Yet that simple action, that silent confession has his stomach bubbling with nerves. For he knows how observant the boy is, how wise he is for his age, so he just remains that way, sitting next to him, waiting for him to speak again. To ask a question. Anything
"Do you wish things were different then, between my mom and you?" Henry asks quietly, not turning to face him.
"I… I, uh," Robin says, clearing his throat because he doesn't know how to answer, frankly wasn't expecting this question from Henry and certainly never imagined he'd be discussing something quite so complicated with Henry.
"And don't lie, I can tell when you're lying," Henry finishes firmly, that security and ease that's come to him with age.
Robin smirks slightly, feels his heart doing summersaults as he tries to respond as honest as he could. Frankly, that's something that's crossed his mind just once or twice in his life. Once when Regina had come to him telling him she was late. And the second time a few years ago, when he'd seen true vulnerability break out in the Mills family. When Henry had learned he'd be a big brother and Regina had been overflowing with guilt. That night he'd wished, he'd wished he'd waited for her, wished he would've taken her home instead of Daniel, wished he'd be Henry's father instead, wished for many things forgetting for a moment that he'd placed a ring on Marian's finger that very same day. Unfair, he'd been unfair to Marian, to their love, disrespectful, and yet Marian had understood, Marian had been so open, so full of love, so—
"Robin," Henry says more firmly.
"You're not asking a simple math question, my boy," Robin says, the term leaving him naturally as it always has, but tonight it feels different, tonight the terms eases his heart.
"Chances are the more you think your answer, the less sincere it is."
"There were moments in my life where I wished things were different between your mother and me. Several times I've faced instances where I'm clouded with the 'what ifs'. What if I stayed. What if I'd waited. What if I'd realized sooner. What if. What if. But Henry, Henry one can't dwell on the what ifs. One can't dwell on the wishing and the thinking and the hoping things were different, because then you'll lose your chance at life. At living. Did I wish things were different between your mother and me? Yes. I did. For a moment. Do I wish those things right now?" He turns to look at Henry with a sigh, and Henry looks so hopeful, that for a moment he looks like a little boy again. "No," he finishes, a small smile on his face and glassy eyes.
"No?" Henry asks on a frown, confused, slightly angry and if there's something Robin absolutely adores about Regina's child is that he, like his mother, wears his heart on his sleeve, his every emotion, every thought so palpable so readable in the way he carries himself and right now, right now Henry looks crestfallen, clearly expecting a different answer. He knows the relationship the boy has with his father. Knows that recently he's allowed him to get closer to him, seeing him like a buddy instead of a father, and seeing Robin like a father instead of a buddy.
So for a moment Robin just stares at this sweet young man. Remembers the first time he said his name. The first time he had his mac and cheese sandwiches. The first time he babysat him. His first sleepover at Robin's apartment. Regina teaching him to ride a bike without training wheels. Him teaching the young boy how to swim. Henry walking down the aisle at his wedding to Marian. God, he loves this boy, loves him to death, which is why.
"No Henry. I don't wish for that now. Because every decision we've taken, I've taken, has led us right now to this moment. To me being here, to your mother being downstairs with Roland. Every decision lead to you growing into the wonderful young man you are. So I can't trade that for anything in this world. Because if Daniel hadn't been your father and I hadn't been your godfather, then you wouldn't have been Henry, you wouldn't have all these little traits and characteristics that make you you. So I'm sorry Henry, if that wasn't the answer you were expecting, but it's the truth. I wouldn't change any of my past for the world."
And though the young boy smiles slightly, he shakes his head and turns to look at him. "I understand all that, Robin. I wasn't asking that."
Oh?
Oh.
Present.
Right now.
He's talking about from now on. And to that he's got no clear answer.
"I… uh. Well. I frankly don't know."
"Robin, do you like my mom?" The teenage boy asks and Robin just chuckles and clears his throat, while Henry looks at him suspiciously.
But then Regina's knocking on the door again, smaller fist bumping against it as Roland mentions that men talk is over and Regina says that dinner is growing cold.
So without giving Henry a clear answer, he stands from the bed and nods to the door.
He's there, quietly eating, Roland on his right, Henry on his left across from the young boy, and Regina across from him. She looks at him curiously, then at Henry, who simply eats without uttering a word, without looking at either adult, instead their Saturday dinner is filled with Roland's excitement over his summer camp.
"Hey," she calls out later that day, when he's walking out the door. "You okay?" She asks on a frown when he turns to face her.
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm just tired, it's been quite a long week," Robin says with a small smile as Roland skips down the steps of her porch and walks slowly to their SUV, he turns to face her.
And she just nods, steps into the porch and closes the door behind her. "How'd it go with Henry?" She asks, much more quiet now, an adorable pout on her face and Robin chuckles, remembering that the reason he's spent the afternoon there was because Henry isn't a kid anymore (that much is clear) and Regina had asked him for help, knowing she wouldn't be able to go forth with it.
"Regina, he's a brilliant young man. You've done such an incredible job with him, you don't have to worry about him at all."
"We've. You've helped raise that boy as much as I have. We wouldn't be having this conversation otherwise."
He just smirks and nods, swallowing hard, grateful for the reminder.
"I'll see you sometime during the week," he says, wrapping his arms around her the moment she nods and pulls him to a hug.
"Please text me when you guys get home. Okay?"
"Will do."
"Bye Regina!" Roland calls from his car on her driveway and Regina just waves and just stays in the porch as he backs away from her home, but he sees Henry's form on his bedroom window.
Frowning, Regina locks her door and turns off her lights, and when Henry doesn't come down to munch on her chocolate chip smore's cookies, Regina sighs and heads to her room. Quickly she sends Robin a text.
Roland asleep?
Just went to bed. Why?
Can I call?
Quickly her phone is vibrating in her hand, and so she answers, immediately.
"I'm stressing out. Winter formal is next week and you gave him condoms and I feel like I'm sixty years old tonight."
"You're hardly sixty years," he whispers on a chuckle.
"I might as well be! God, it feels like ages ago when I first held him in my arms. He was so tiny."
"And squirmy."
"And cute. I remember you called him a polliwog and I thought the nurse would kill you. Or call social services."
She hears him snort on the other line and instantly she feels relieved, for a second, it feels like ages since she's last heard him laugh. It's what she'd been hoping tonight would be like at dinner. But instead he had been quiet, so so quiet, as had Henry. And no, it's unusual. Ever since Henry's birth the two have been joined at the hip, usually following the other with crude comments or sarcasm. But not tonight. At first she'd thought it had been due to awkwardness, perhaps due to their 'talk', but no. It's something more, something different. She can tell.
"What happened tonight?" She asks seriously, biting her lower lip. She's seen them get into several fights, several disagreements, but the last one had been over two years ago, when a very much hormonal Henry had claimed that Robin wasn't his father. She remembers Robin's crestfallen face, remembers hugging him tight because even though Robin agreed with the boy, she knows just how much those words hurt him.
Robin sighs on the other end. "Regina," he says, begging her without words to quit..
But Regina shakes her head and huffs annoyedly. "Don't ask me to drop it when clearly something happened, and I'm afraid it's got nothing to do with the sex talk. Do I have to ground him for a week again?"
He snorts on the other line before continuing. "No. No. Henry is a bright boy. He asked some questions. I answered some. I didn't others. It's a conversation that's still on hold."
"Until?" She asks.
"Until tomorrow. At breakfast," Robin says, determination in every lilt of his voice.
She rolls her eyes at his ability to change topics and shakes her head. "Fine by me. Text Henry to see if he's up for it."
"Will do. See you tomorrow."
Hanging up, Regina frowns slightly at her phone and leaves it on her nightstand, turns around and bringing the covers close to her face as she tries to get some sleep. Whatever's pending between Henry and Robin, she knows they'll work through it like they always seem to do.
He's there the next day on her doorstep, Roland next to him a bright grin on his face. Regina smirks, bends to kiss Roland on his forehead and offers him a hand.
"He told me to send you up. I don't know what you boys are getting at, but I'm getting anxious over here," she says rolling her eyes before walking with Roland to his SUV.
He's there, suddenly nervous as he walks up the stairs, takes a right until he's standing in front of his room. He knocks, twice, and opens the door to find Henry on the bed, lacing up his black converse.
"You thought about a clear answer?" The young man asks, as he lets one leg fall from the bed, and looks at him sheepishly.
"I'm not sure what you're asking of me, Henry."
"Robin," Henry begins, sounding more adult than Robin. "Do you love my mom?"
"Of course I love your mom. She's been the only constant in my life," Robin whispers, feeling oddly relieved at telling Henry this.
Henry just smirks at him, more like grins, grins, and grins, mischief written in his face.
"What?" Robin asks, his own lips curling upwards at Henry's amusement.
"It's the holidays, perhaps you should consider putting up some mistletoes across your place," the teenager replies, shaking his head at his own amusement and Robin just snorts and bumps his shoulder to his, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying. "Or you know," the boy shrugs, hiding his laughter as he finishes, "grow some balls."
And Robin chokes on a gasp, before he's laughing along with the boy. "Perhaps I'll use that idea," he confesses in a low voice when the amusement (and –nerves?) die down. Then he's swallowing hard, palms sweating slightly. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't be this nervous. And yet, Robin's voice trembles slightly as he says, "If it is okay with you, that is."
This is it, the moment of truth. A moment Robin hadn't known he's been waiting for since years ago.
But Henry just grins, grins as he whispers, "Eh, it could be worse," as a jest and Robin just laughs, laughs in relief, laughs in amusement until an annoyed Roland yells from outside that he's hungry.
And when the four of them finally do eat breakfast, Regina feels relief at the lack of tension on the table, and throws a wink at Robin.
.::.
It's all about timing, Robin keeps telling himself.
Before, when they had been teenagers, it wouldn't have worked out.
When Henry was one, it wouldn't have worked out.
Hell, two weeks ago it wouldn't. It simply wouldn't have worked out, because the timing wasn't right.
So yes, it's all about timing, and the timing still doesn't feel right as they're hurriedly walking from store to store trying to find Henry the perfect shoes days before his formal, because Regina very diligently forgot to buy them and Henry very diligently forgot to remind her. No, it's not the perfect timing, so he just looks at shoes with her as the kids are at the Arcade, and finds himself amused at the way she scrunches up her nose at the color of a particular pair. Until she finds the one pair that matches Henry's style, and quickly pays for them.
No. The timing still doesn't feel right when they're drinking coffee in his place, the house quiet for Roland and Henry are both at school, on the day of Henry's winter formal. She sips quietly, focusing entirely on the paper she's reading as Robin fixes them breakfast. And it's the most natural thing, a moment they've shared countless of times before but today it feels different, today he's more watchful of the eggs, of overcooking them, today he's more watchful of the toast, of the bacon, of the way she meticulous sips her coffee, enjoying thoroughly every sip, before she's glancing up to look at him.
"You need help?" She asks on a small smile, her hair in a low ponytail, face bare of makeup, wearing her reading glasses and to Robin she's never looked more beautiful.
"No," he replies with a smile, breaking the glance to look down at the stove again.
"Okay. I'll go grab the Christmas décor for tonight," she says, drinking the last sip of coffee and then sitting up to head to his garage.
He just stares after her, smiling at the festive leggings she's wearing today. And though the timing just doesn't feel quite right, quite perfect, he realizes that there really isn't another day he wants to spend without Regina next to him.
He takes tons of pictures that night, feeling teary eyed as Henry poses smiling sheepishly at the camera. Daniel Facetimes, telling Henry over and over again to have fun and that there will be a couple of homecomings and prom and what nots to come, and Robin knows what must be going through the man's head, the same thing that's been going through Regina's and his the moment Henry first announced his interest in going to the dance, an interest that wasn't there a year prior. They drive Henry to school, waving him off as he excitedly heads to the gym, and then Regina, Robin and Roland set off to his place, intent on enjoying their own night by putting up his Christmas tree, an activity he knows will take her mind off of things.
But she's anxious all the time, not really present, instead answers Roland's inquiries with small smiles, shakes and nods of her head. But her heart isn't really in it. And though Robin loves the momma bear in her, he cannot help but feel partly guilty keeping her here when it's obvious she'll be calmer somewhere else. So, quickly he's picking up his car keys, bundling up Roland again, handing Regina his coat and dragging them out of his house to his car.
Robin's there, back resting against the side of his car as they just stare straight ahead at the parking lot. He listens, quietly, as the gym several yards from him blasts some music of this age, a song he recognizes clearly as one of Henry's favorite. And he knows, deep down knows Henry is somewhere inside, Violet next to him, probably trying to get him to ask her to dance. They shouldn't even be here, no, not with Roland sleeping peacefully in the backseat, comfortably warm as he and Regina just stand side by side, rubbing furiously at their shoulders trying to warm up. They shouldn't be here, they should be at his place setting up his Christmas tree. But Regina's more relaxed, at ease, so he'll brave the cold, he'll brave the slight ache of his feet if it means she'll feel better.
For moments they just stay there, freezing cold, but focused on the quick tempo of the music, and the voice of the DJ speaking. And it takes him back down memory lane. Back to that conversation with Henry. Back to years before.
He turns to look at Regina, swallows hard before he's focusing on the empty parking spot in front of him.
"Do you remember that night?"
"Well," she says snorting, eyes opening comically.
But Robin chuckles, and shakes his head. "No. Not that. During prom. Cynthia didn't want to dance too much. It'd ruin her hair, she'd said. And so I sat down, next to her, and spent the rest of the night talking to her about botany, birds, and anything that'd come to my mind. Anything to make her laugh. You know what she'd say? She'd often ask me to shut up, and other times she'd asked about Will. All the while I just couldn't stop thinking about how interesting you would've found my conversation."
Regina just scoffs at him and shakes her head.
"You know, I'll never understand," she replies with a snort. "You complain so much about that night, you say how it would've been better with me. And yet you didn't once think of asking me to prom," she finishes, meaning it to rile him but Robin just smiles sadly and clears his throat.
"I thought for a second that you would do it," she continues, smirking at him. "Even Ruby was convinced that you would do it. And for a second, I was convinced too. That day, you asked me about flowers, and different ideas, and I thought, this is it, but then—"
"I asked Cynthia."
"You asked Cynthia," she confirms.
"Well I've never been that bright," Robin said as a joke.
But Regina just shakes her head and shrugs.
"That night would've turned out a whole lot different if I had gone with you," she confesses, turning to look at the building again, where seventeen years before she had escaped to be with Daniel in a fit. "I mean, I could never regret Henry but, I kinda made me life a little more difficult."
He nods in understanding, shrugging for a moment before he's looking at her, offering her a small apologetic smile. "For all's worth, I wish I had waited for you that night. Wish I had stolen you from Daniel."
"Robin," she shakes her head.
"I know. I know, it doesn't change what happened. I frankly don't want to change what happened either because it lead to this, this moment right here. But I need you to know that. I'm sorry I didn't wait for you."
She just stares at him, a soft look on her face before she's leaning closer and dropping a kiss to his cheek. "I love you," she whispers before she's wrapping her arms around his middle, his own going around her shoulders, pulling her closer. They stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing each other in, his nose pressed to her hair as they listen to the echo of the slow music.
"What do you think he's doing right now?" Regina asks on a sigh, face burying in the crook of his neck.
Robin just chuckles and drops a kiss to the top of her head. "I think Henry is mustering up the courage to ask Violet for a dance."
She smiles at that before shaking her head and letting out a soft snort, jesting him. "You taught him all about that?"
At that Robin chuckles and breaks their hug. "Maybe," he shrugs. "I did tell him not to act like I did, though."
"You, Mr. Locksley, are full of shit," she chuckles, stomping down his attempts at flirting and then suddenly, she's just staring at him, a longing and awe filled look in her eyes and then she clears her throat. "It's getting colder. We should probably go," Regina mutters, giving the gym building one sad look.
When they arrive at his house, she picks up Roland from the back seat, carries his passed out body across the garage and takes him to his room, Robin following close by. Together, they strip the boy out of his clothes, into warm pjs and tuck him in for the night. Roland is dead to the world, simply turns to the side and continues snoring his night away, as the adults chuckle and continue with their plans for the evening.
It's when they're decorating the tree that he really notices it, the pink hues of the multicolored Christmas lights, the way her eyes sparkle in them. The way she frowns as she puts an ornament slowly, leaning back to admire her work. She's gorgeous. Brilliantly gorgeous, a fact he's always known, but tonight. Right now, with Roland sleeping upstairs, with Henry out for the night, with soft confessions and the memories of years before, there's something different in the air. Right now Robin feels a freedom he hasn't felt in a long time.
The knowledge doesn't come with fireworks going off around him. No. Instead it sneaks in, sly and quiet, like the calm before a storm. And he knows, he knows that time is finally on their favor. Their time is now, and for a moment he hates that he didn't listen to Henry, hates that he didn't fill this place with mistletoes in every corner, because that would've been easier, ten times easier than what he's about to do.
About to do, if he just stops thinking about it.
About to do if he just stops staring at her, at the way she bites her lower lip and picks up another ornament and hangs it on the tree, then another, and another.
"What," Regina asks after a moment, not turning to face him, instead staring at the ornament in her hand, but obviously feeling his eyes on her.
He must look like an idiot, standing there in the middle of his living room, boxes scattered all around the room, glitter, garlands and half broken ornaments lining up the floor, with nothing to say.
Shit, yes, he should talk. He should say –no, do something and so forcing his legs, Robin walks slowly, towards her, and thin his mouth is moving. "You'll probably hate me," is what he says, heart beat beat beating loudly inside his chest. Gods, his hands are trembling, sweating, knees almost buckling but still he moves forward, swallows hard when she turns to face him, an amused frown on her face. Besotted, he's absolutely besotted to her. "I'm going to do something I've been wanting to do for quite some time now," he whispers, not breaking her gaze. "I've no excuse, not a single mistletoe in this house, but…" he isn't able to finish his sentence, instead shrugs at her.
Starting to catch up, Regina just eyes him curiously, lips curving up slightly until he's simply standing in front of her, smiling nervously at her, and she bites her lower lip, stares at his lips then meets his gaze and before she can even say yes, Robin's leaning down, gently, pressing his lips against hers firmly.
And though it takes her a few seconds to register what's actually happening, when it hits her, Regina closes her eyes into the feeling and she kisses him back. Mouth dancing eagerly against his own as it registers in her that finally, finally this is happening. And then she's deepening the kiss, moaning as she carelessly drops the ornament from her grasp to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her. Robin chuckles against the kiss, wraps his own arms around her middle to hold her in place as they kiss until their chests burn. She's the first to break away from the kiss, panting slightly as she just stares at him an awe-filled look on her face and Robin just stands there, thumbs slightly caressing her lower back through the wooly material of her sweater.
And though no words are spoken, Robin feels like they needn't words, no, after years they only need actions and so he smirks and leans down again, pressing their lips together for a second time. And a third. And a fourth until she's chuckling against his lips, and then he's laughing too, laughing for no reason, until their bellies and cheeks hurt.
.::.
He's there on their first date, a week after Henry's winter formal, admiring her beauty, kissing her every chance he gets, and by the time it's time to drive her to her place (and pick up Roland from Henry's babysitting services) he suggests a detour. So they go to his place for a little while, because she cannot, will not, stop kissing him, leaning from the passenger seat to kiss his neck, his lips, anywhere she can reach.
So he's there, kissing her as he unlocks his front door, closing the door behind him. Kissing her as they fall to the sofa, a heap of limbs and amusement as they just kiss, and steal breathy gasps with firm touches for the limited time they have.
When he does drive her home later than what they'd planned, Henry simply grins at them from the living room and motions at Robin to wipe off his mother's lipstick from his face.
He's there.
Right there, holding her close as she slowly rolls her hips against his, his chest tightening at the feeling of being one with her. Finally. And then she's smirking, pressing her mouth to his as she moves atop him, every move with one goal in mind, dragging, tasting, exploring each other until he's there, slowing her movements and whispering 'Merry Christmas' against her lips. Regina smirks, replies with a Merry Christmas of her own before she's kissing him, harder, teasing his mouth with her own until he's groaning, and rolling them over and he's there. Right there, slowly filling her again, losing himself entirely in all that's her.
Regina's there, an hour later, bundled up, sitting next to him in front of the tree, messy top bun, face bare of makeup, mouth swollen by his kisses, kisses he keeps stealing. God, he can't get enough of her, not now that he's finally tasted her, not now that he's had her for the first time. No. Now he just wants more, more, more, tells her so but Regina simply blushes and shakes her head, reminding him that they still have plenty of gifts to wrap, that they have a long day ahead of them. Yet he's far gone, steals one, two, three pecks before she's sighing, melting, onto him. "Robin," she murmurs, a warning. "Behave," she mutters, dropping one last kiss to his lips and turning to focus on the presents again.
He sighs, drops a kiss to her shoulder before focusing on the task at hand, looking like a little boy that's been chastised, grumbling, and definitely on a mood as he stacks gift after gift.
But when he finally gets to have her again just a couple of moments later (after all she just couldn't resist), he's there, and so is she, each other's constant, each other's always, just like they've always been with the exception that now, finally, their timing is right.
