"I don't really think I need to be carried." Robin announced to the empty hallway as Patrick tried to unlock the door and balance her on his back.
"And I don't really think I should have let you drive after watching you down a bottle of peach schnapps." Patrick countered.
"There weren't other cars on the road." Robin pointed out.
"None that you saw." Patrick argued with a shake of his head.
"Are we at your home or my home?" She asked curiously.
"Yours. I thought you'd want to be here in case Morgan called." Patrick explained, lowering her onto the couch and waiting for her to unwrap her arms and legs from around him before he even bothered returning to the door.
"I do. Where's the phone?" Robin looked around, unable to see much from her current position.
"One thing at a time, babe." Patrick said as he sat on the couch next to her.
"Are you going to give me another massage?" Robin unbuttoned her top slowly.
"What are you doing?" Patrick wanted to smack himself for asking such an obvious question, but her behavior was surprising to even him.
"Getting naked. Wanna join me?" Robin answered in such a no-nonsense kind of way that Patrick felt he had better oblige her. Leaning over her, he pulled off his own shirt and dropped a casual kiss on her lips.
Robin reached up and curled her hand around the back of his neck, meeting his slow kisses with contradictory ones. Trying to sit up until she was realized he had her pinned to the cushions, she reached between their bodies and undid the button on his slacks, wiggling under him when he took over the task of undoing her shirt. She had been in this position enough to know that the fogginess in her brain had little to do with actual alcohol; on the contrary, she was getting drunk off of these sweet, suddenly frenzied, kisses.
Silently thankful for her decision to wear a long skirt--to battle the frigid wind but still enjoy what was left of the summer nights--Patrick yanked it up and over her hips, not even bothering to remove it in his haste to get his hands on bare skin. It didn't matter how many times he made love to her. He always found himself wanting more, needing more. The intensity in which he wanted to be with her was never diminished even when they were both completely spent.
Mumbling against his mouth when his tongue started to duel with hers, Robin continued to struggle beneath him when she ran into a problem with his pants. There simply wasn't enough space between them to tug the material down and yet he still refused to budge. Deciding to try a new approach, she ran her hand excruciatingly slow over his thickening shaft and carefully closed her fingers around it. "I bet that feels good." She cooed to him, flicking her tongue over her bottom lip in anticipation.
"Yes." Patrick nodded, initiating a kiss that had them both panting when they finally broke for air. He let out a shattering breath as her tiny hand slid up and down his most sensitive flesh, inadvertently allowing her to take control of the kiss. Spearing her fingers through his tender mass of hair, she pressed her fingers into the back of his head, pulling him closer.
"Tell me." She begged him, squeezing him hard enough to make him quietly yelp in response. It wasn't that she wanted to hurt him, but she couldn't let this go a step further without hearing the words.
"I love you Robin." Patrick indulged her as his fingers danced up her naked thigh.
"No." Robin shook her head, clearly in distress about something other than the obvious.
"No I don't love you?" Patrick asked, perplexed.
"No, that's not what I want you to tell me." Robin replied, sliding her hand inside his pants to stroke him more intimately.
"What do you want baby?" Patrick couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what else she might want to hear from him. He was having a hard enough time concentrating on the conversation without her playing these games with him.
"Tell me you want me." Robin instructed and peeled his underwear out of her way to achieve a more direct approach.
"I want you so much I can't stand it." Patrick responded blowing a choking breath over her shoulder.
"I need to know that this is enough." Robin explained vaguely.
"If you'd quit teasing me, it'd be incredible, but I'm not opposed to what you're doing now." Patrick answered, assuming he was wrong again.
"That I'm enough." Robin clarified emotionally.
At the subtle break of her voice, Patrick lifted his head so that he could see her eyes. She held her heart in those perfect cinnamon eyes. Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, he cupped her face in his palm. "What are you talking about? You're amazing. It's like I'm back in the driver's seat of a brand new car and the speedometer is busted so the rest of the world is zooming past me but you're right next to me. Does that make any sense at all?"
It was becoming difficult to see him through the tears building in her eyes and it took a moment to collect herself enough to speak. "Do you remember when we were on that rollercoaster?"
"Our first date. Sure. I let you hold my hand." Patrick smirked as the memory formed in his mind.
"Ever since we started dating, I've felt like I'm still on that rollercoaster…only you're not always there and I get so scared--" She wanted to continue but he silenced her by putting his thumb over her lips.
"Don't be scared. I'm right here." He promised, kissing her knuckles when she brought her hand down from the back of his head.
"You have no idea what you were asking from me when you told me you loved me." Robin accused in a trembling voice.
"I didn't know I was taking anything. I wanted to give you my heart…and then I realized you already had it." Patrick murmured pressing his forehead to hers.
"Are you going to be something else I have to survive?" Robin asked weakly.
"I don't want to make your life harder. I want to make it better." Giving her a quick kiss, he noticed that her taste lingered on his lips and, even though he didn't want to stop, he didn't want her to think she couldn't be honest with him either.
"You don't make anything easy, but neither do I. You make it better…so much better. I just--you've got to know that this may be all I can ever give you." Robin informed him hesitantly.
"What is it you think I don't have?" Patrick challenged.
"Nothing I guess." Pulling his pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, she was vaguely aware of Patrick putting on a condom before she felt him ease inside of her. Digging her heels into his ankles, she struggled to breathe, her every cry catching in her throat. His mouth ascended upon hers then and she lost her senses in his sweet taste.
"Oh really? That's cool!" Patrick heard Robin say from the living room as he towel-dried his hair. Normally he would have to put on his same clothes, but he remembered Robin saying something about him having a pair of sweatpants in her closet, having left them over the week before. It was a little weird going over to her closet and finding them nicely folded over a hanger as if they belonged there. He wouldn't mention to Robin how uncomfortable it made him.
Patrick wasn't sure what bothered him more, his clothes being in the closet or the spare toothbrush Robin kept for him to use when he stayed over. He knew she only did it to be considerate, understanding, what with the distance between their apartments, how inconvenient it would have been to run across town for a little thing like a toothbrush. There was no reason for him to feel anything but honored that she worried about his welfare; still, something bugged him about it all.
He wasn't used to being taken care of. It was different with Aunt Laura and Aunt Bobbie. They felt indebted to his mother to provide him with the kind of love his father hadn't been able to give him after losing Mattie. He would have to do something nice for Robin, something that she needed or wanted but would never ask for. It had been far too long since he'd spoiled her. In fact, even then, the main agenda had been for his own benefit, never hers. Her birthday was coming up. He would have to think of something special, something she would never forget.
"No, I haven't. You'll have to show me when I come to get you." Robin continued, curling the phone cord around her index finger. She usually relied on the cordless, but it was upstairs and she had been by the kitchen when the call came in. "Level fifteen? That's impressive! Did you get to ride--you did? He was, huh? You got to feed him?" It wasn't difficult to tell when Robin was being unnecessarily chipper; it usually happened when she felt uneasy about a certain situation or conversation. The only way he could get a straight answer out of her was when she was so angry she couldn't see straight or drunk. He preferred the former, because he loved to watch the fire burning in her deep mocha eyes.
Dropping his wet towel into the laundry basket, Patrick took the stairs in a leisurely pace, able to see Robin through the kitchen shutters the entire time. She danced from one foot to the other, her back to him as he crossed the living room. She looked damn sexy in his faded gray t-shirt with her hair disheveled from the nap they had taken together after making love earlier in the evening. He often took the sight for granted; now he thought he might have to talk her into letting him take her picture. He smiled as he thought about how that conversation might go.
By the time he made it to the kitchen, she had just hung up the phone, the expression on her face somewhat conflicted. He had been right about her mood during the call and he hadn't even been in the room. What was next? Were they going to start communicating with their minds? Shuddering at the mere thought, he watched her eyes cloud over with confusion when she finally turned to face him. "Who was on the phone?" He asked because he wanted her to be able to ease into telling him what was wrong, what made her look this defeated after a night that he considered a huge success. Gold star for both of them as far as he was concerned.
"Morgan." Robin replied immediately.
"Did he call to say goodnight?" Patrick wondered. Maybe if he figured it out for himself, she wouldn't have voice the words.
"He called to ask if he could stay the whole weekend." Robin explained solemnly, taking a step toward the doorway.
"What'd you say?" Patrick reached out and caught her left arm gently.
"I said he could." Robin whispered, clearing her throat as the words left her lips. It was obvious how rattled she was at the idea of being away from her son that long. The last time they had spent days apart had been right after the accident and that hadn't been something she could control. She must have felt that this too was out of her hands, that she didn't have a right to say no.
"Does this mean we get to use the good crayons?" Patrick made sure to keep his voice serious and his face comical.
"I don't feel very good. I think I might take a bath and head off to bed." Robin answered instead, her voice sounding far away even though there wasn't a lot of space between them.
"Why didn't you just tell him he had to come home?" Patrick challenged his voice tight when he caught her subtle wince at what must have sounded like an accusation.
"He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be there. Who can blame him? A.J. has the big house and the expensive toys. Why would he want to come home to this little apartment where he never gets to go outside unless one of us is with him?" Robin shot back, her shoulders tensing in defiance.
"Stop it." Patrick demanded, shaking her until she met his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't patronize me, Patrick." Robin warned in a threatening tone.
"I'm not. I'm simply pointing out that beating yourself up isn't going to help anybody. He hasn't seen his brother in a long time. That's all this weekend is about. It has nothing to do with him wanting to be at A.J.'s more than he wants to be home with you. And this is his home. This has been his home for the past seven months." Patrick reminded her hotly.
"You're right." Robin conceded unenthusiastically. "You're always right. Congratulations. I'm going upstairs." She yanked her arm from his grasp and put her words to action.
"So that's it? You're going to sulk in your room because you didn't get your way?" Patrick sneered, following closely behind. "Talk to me." He snapped, touching her shoulder and spinning her around.
"Maybe you should leave." Robin offered matter-of-factly.
"I'm not going anywhere. I told you, you aren't chasing me away." Patrick pointed out stubbornly.
"Deciding to stay doesn't make you noble, Patrick."
"And throwing me out doesn't make you rational."
"Now I'm irrational?" Robin threw her hands up in the air.
"When you're wondering why your son would want to come home to a mother who loves him, when that doesn't make total sense to you, then yes." Patrick retorted, walking her backwards. "Hell, Robin, what more do you need to do before you convince yourself that you're his mother and he is your son?"
"I don't know." Robin murmured squeezing her eyes shut.
"Call him back!" Patrick ordered suddenly, wrenching the phone from its cradle and thrusting it in her face.
"No!" Robin shook her head, her eyes still half closed.
"Call him back and tell him that we're coming to get him!" Patrick repeated.
"He's having a good time. I don't want to ruin that." Robin explained.
"How could you ruin it? He must miss you like crazy." Patrick reasoned.
"I'll get him on Sunday like I told him I would." Robin argued.
"Then I'll call A.J." Patrick decided.
"Please don't." Robin pleaded brokenly.
"We can drop by and say he didn't have enough clothes for the whole weekend." Patrick suggested.
"Michael's got some old clothes that don't fit him anymore. A.J. was saving them for Morgan anyway." Robin informed him.
"A.J. is not his parent, you are." Patrick countered, folding his arms over his chest and dropping the phone in frustration.
"I know that!" Robin shrieked, putting her hand over her forehead and digging her fingers through her hair.
"Then start acting like it damn it! Get in the car and bring him home! He doesn't call the shots, you do. That's what makes you a good parent." Patrick insisted.
"And how would you know what makes a good parent?" Robin screamed at him.
"I had a great role model." Patrick reminded her.
"Your mother, right." Robin scoffed. "A woman who gave up every dream she ever had to please her family."
"My mother took care of us. We never asked her to give up anything!" Patrick fought back. "She loved us unconditionally even when we were bad, and we were almost never good. Through it all, through the punishments and the praises, I knew my mother loved me. Does Morgan know that? Does he know you would move Heaven and Earth to keep him safe? You tell him you love him, but do you ever show him?"
"Why are you saying these things to me? Why do you want to hurt me?" Robin asked in a weak, tired voice.
"I don't want to hurt you." Patrick argued, moving her toward the couch so they could at least sit down. It was going to be a long night and she looked like a stiff wind might knock her down.
"Then why are you attacking me?" Robin thrashed against his touch and sat, somehow in spite of him.
"I'm not attacking you. I love you." Patrick told her.
"And that justifies it?" Robin asked in disbelief.
"If I don't say it, no one else will." Patrick explained.
"Elizabeth would tell me." Robin persisted.
"Elizabeth walks on eggshells around you, just like everyone else. No one is going to tell you if you're making a mistake." Patrick assured her.
"So I'm a bad mother? That's what you're insinuating?"
"I never said you were a bad mother. God, this is like driving on the wrong side of the road."
"You're worried you're going to hit something?"
"I'm not actually getting anywhere."
"Oh I see." Robin pursed her lips together.
"You are too stubborn for your own good, do you know that?" Patrick asked, punching the arm of the couch.
"I'm not stubborn." Robin argued. "You just refuse to--"
Patrick leaned over and kissed her, catching her fists in his hands and easily subduing her. She used his hold on her to sit up on her knees and try to gain some leeway, but he wasn't having any of it. Parting her uncompromising lips, he stole her taste, savoring it with each flick of his tongue. At her sigh, he wrestled her out of his t-shirt and tucked her beneath him, moving his lips to her neck, panting heavily.
Robin struggled to breathe as he continued his assault on her skin and felt her head fall backwards in surrender. His touch was at once gentle and rough, the intent in his blazing eyes unmistakable. Her fingers itched at her sides so she reached up to trace the muscles in his back, arching beneath him when she felt him leave a mark on her flawless skin.
He wondered if she could feel his anger coming off of him in waves. He didn't care if she was feeling trapped beneath him or if there might be a more rational way of resolving this fight. All he could feel was desperation, desperation to strip her defenses away, to make her see that she was his equal in every way, that they didn't make sense apart. His hand fell from her face of its own accord and squeezed her breast hard enough to make her cry out. His fingers were anything but gentle as they pinched her vulnerable nipple into a hard, aching point.
She choked on her own surprise, her eyes fluttering closed as her lips parted to let out a long string of whimpers. The sound must have excited him because he turned his attention to her remaining breast, this time covering her nipple with his ravenous mouth. His tongue was warm and wet, tracing her entire breast, moving her to a deeper level of delight. She wanted to scream when she felt the tug of his teeth, but that would require breathing and she had forgotten how. Catching either side of his sweatpants, she pulled them down and off, smiling when she noticed he hadn't bothered with underwear.
Blissfully naked above her, he smoothed his open palm over the inside of her thigh, tracing his thumb over her pulsing sex. He continued to tease her, never probing between her legs even when she parted them for him.
When his lips descended on hers again, she turned her face away, making him even angrier. He grabbed her chin with his thumb and index finger and forced her to look at him, his hold only loosening when he noticed the tears in her eyes. "We're not being safe."
"Sure we are." Patrick promised after a long stretch of time. Further proving his point, he leaned closer to her, not missing the confusion in her eyes, and reached under the couch, extracting a condom he had hidden there.
"When did you put that under there?" Robin wondered, lifting her hips enough to let him pull her panties down.
"I don't remember. You never know where you're going to be." Patrick mused noncommittally, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that demanded everything. Robin smiled, pushing him backwards so that he was leaned against the opposite side of the couch. Sheathing him with the diligence of a brain surgeon, she climbed into his lap, inviting him to enter her in one quick thrust. Yanking her to him, he fused their bodies together, his breath rushing out of him on a groan. He placed a hand on either side of her hips and pulled her to him, pushing harder until he felt her legs tremble as she tried to part her thighs to fully accept him.
"I don't think I can." Robin admitted sheepishly.
"Let me help." Patrick offered, reaching between their bodies and stroking her clit until it was hot and sticky against the pads of his fingers. She jackknifed on instinct, but she moved with the rhythm of his skilled fingers, her need apparent in her short, choppy breaths and dark, almost black, eyes.
"P-Patrick, please." In the stillness, she could hear the slide of his hand strumming down her spine and see the colors of the living room blend into one blurry, vibrant tone. Just as a drowning person was deprived of air while under the water, she felt as though she couldn't catch her breath until his lips were pressed against hers, which she figured made very little sense to the average person, but there was nothing average about the man she loved.
"Shh, I've got you. Just trust me." Patrick whispered to her.
"I don't care anymore. Now. Now. Please Patrick. Please!" She cried into the crook of his shoulder as his finger climbed up inside of her.
"I care." Patrick countered, wiggling his finger deliberately slow so as to draw out her pleasure as well as his own. "Almost there."
"I can't wait. Please." Robin continued to beg, knowing she was at the mercy of his hands and mouth. As much as she wanted to take control, he always managed to distract her to the point of madness so that only he could ease the throbbing that hammered throughout her entire body. It was a seamless transition for him, one she always fell victim to.
"If you're sure." He smiled, merging their lips and knocking her onto her back, slipping inside of her with quiet simplicity. She was so hot and ready for him, he came the second he entered her. Bucking wildly above her, his eyes widened in astonishment. Beneath him she convulsed, her eyes scrunched in pain and pleasure. Nuzzling her hair out of her eyes with his nose, he kissed all over her face and lifted her bottom off of the couch, driving into her harder, deeper, the realization that she hadn't yet climaxed inspiring him to get a little creative.
She held his face between her hands and merged their lips, drawing the kiss out so that they went eternities without needing to breathe. At the sharp thrust of his finger, her body went rigid, the position from which he'd entered her awkward and unexpected. Her inner muscles clenched tighter around his shaft, but she couldn't twist into a comfortable position to allow him the access he so desperately sought after. Patrick spoke to her, recognizing her taut features and trying to convince her to relax. She tried to tell him what she wanted him to do, but that was unclear even to her. When he pulled out of her gingerly, she barely held back the urge to cry in defeat and closed her eyes. It was over, she was still furious, and she hadn't come at all.
His lips tickled her deflated sex and she fell against a pillow. It was his ego that fueled him, but she was open to suggestion. She was sore most of all and that wasn't entirely his fault. She had known she wasn't ready and cost herself the perfect orgasm. Did this mean she was going to have to be patient from now on? Before she could even complete the thought, she arched her back, his tongue massaging her clit in a relaxed rhythm. Her legs tried to close in response to the tiny bit of moisture building between them, but his hands were on her thighs keeping her exposed for his own personal perusal. She let out a cry as a spasm wracked through her and he absently licked her, his fingers pressing harder into her skin. Another followed and it was all she could do to stay still and let him do what he was best at. Tears collected in her eyes as her climax drew nearer and she tried to blink them away.
She didn't ask for an explanation when he surged into her a second time, because she was suddenly paranoid that this would be yet another close call. Her eyelids lifted and her fingers threaded through his hair. When she tried to apologize for tugging at his hair, he chuckled and assured her it was unnecessary. Her inner muscles held him desperately inside of her in case he made the mistake of trying to pull out of her any time soon. Her orgasm blinded her and she let him take control of the kiss, her lips parting into a satisfied smile.
"And you doubted me." Patrick spoke at last, but Robin was already asleep. "Good idea." He dropped his head to her chest and closed his eyes.