This one is for Micki and her patience.
Robin wouldn't call himself an awkward person. In fact, he'd reckon he is more of a social butterfly, able to adapt to his surroundings, to the people around him, something he's sure his girlfriend would agree with—which, is why he thinks she hadn't hesitated to bring him to an event for the faculty in Columbia, because she knows he can hold his own.
It's a bit surprising to him at first. He knows how big of a step it is for her, especially considering how she works here and some of the people they will encounter that night would be people who'd known he used to study there, and now he's dating his former professor. Of course, it's all in the past and they aren't doing anything wrong, considering, and he's not too iffy with anything about their love story, but he knows she worries. So, he cannot feel anything but pride at the fact that she's finally taking great leaps in letting the public know about them. Granted, they aren't exactly keeping it a secret, but he's still proud.
After all, it can't be that easy for her.
He smiles at his reflection on the mirror, he's bound to pick her up in a while, and he's taken great pains in getting ready, making sure that he looks well enough to have her in his arms. He doesn't want to be a cause of her embarrassment. The way the two of them have met and fallen in love are already interesting stories enough, and though he will never be embarrassed of their love or love story, his head is not far up in his ass or under the sand to not know that people talk and people judge. In fact, he knows that it's human nature to do that. So he's loath to do anything to cause more chins wagging about things they don't understand.
He's not going to put his girlfriend through that stupid kind of stress.
He slides his watch on his wrist and fastens it, before he puts on the perfume she loves (the one that has him smelling like forest, she said), and slips on his shoes. He makes his way downstairs, where his son is patiently—not—waiting for him on the couch ready for his night with Henry. It's his first sleepover with a kid around his age and he's neck deep in excitement over it. Especially since it's with the coolest kid he's known. And since it's Henry's Aunt Mary Margaret watching them, there will be a lot of candy involved and unhealthy amount of popcorn.
"How do I look?" he asks his son, and it says a lot about him that he's asking his five year old about how he looks, but he won't have asked Will in today anyway, knowing the kind of ribbing the man will give him if he had.
"Good," Roland says with a nod, although he's a bit distracted by the yellow sponge and his loyal pin starfish sidekick and their shenanigans playing on the telly.
Robin shakes his head and chuckles, tells his son to turn off the Telly and get ready so they could drive to Regina's. He is met with a very enthusiastic "yeah!", and then the five year old scrambles to put on his shoes and grab all of his things (he's very adamant that he can do it himself), although Robin beats him to it and takes his bag while instructing him to grab the stuffed monkey that Regina had gifted him when they'd first met and he hadn't let go since.
The drive to Regina's is mostly quiet, with Roland only asking a few times if they are there yet. When they arrived, he'd had to reign his little terror in and ask him to slow down, that they don't want to seem too eager, even when they actually are.
He rings the doorbell and taps his foot as they wait for the door to open. When it finally does, it's Mary Margaret who greets them with a soft smile, urging them to come in. Robin's hold tightens on the bouquet he'd brought for his love, as Roland runs toward Henry the moment he spots the older boy. Henry high fives him, and then looks up to wave at Robin, greeting him enthusiastically, one he returns before both boys are off to play Henry's new game.
"She'll be down in a sec," Mary Margaret informs him with a smile as he lets her lead him to the living room.
She urges him to sit and asks him if he wants anything but he declines her offer because all he wants is to see Regina at this point. He's anxious, as anxious as he'd been on their first official date, and it's almost ridiculous because it's just Regina, the love of his life, except it's not just Regina tonight, it's her and a room full of her colleagues—and well, that's a little nerve-wracking.
"Wow, mom you look really good," Henry exclaims, and it's what makes him look away from Mary Margaret (they'd been deep in conversation over her pregnancy), and Henry is almost right, but Regina doesn't look really good, she looks absolutely breathtaking.
"Yeah, you look real pretty Regina!" Roland chimes in, and she walks over to both boys to thank them with a kiss. Henry pulls away with a disgruntled "Mom!" but Roland only hugs Regina tighter, making her grin.
She's wearing a simple black dress that falls a few inches above her knees. It hugs her body like second skin, and accentuates every curve, makes her ass look even more tantalizing, if that's even at all possible. Her cleavage is popping and sinful, but is covered by some kind of see through material that's the same material used for the sleeves which falls to her wrists in a cuff. She's wearing her hair up in a sleek pony tail, her eyes lined and her lips painted a dangerously delicious shade of red, and she looks absolutely amazing.
She smiles at him when she sees him and starts making her way to him. He finds that he can barely breathe, can barely function, can barely find the words to even describe or explain right at that moment how wonderfully gorgeous she looks.
"So?" she asks a little timidly as she stares up at him. As if there's any doubt about it.
"You look..." he trails off. There is not enough adjective in the world to describe how positively radiant she looks right then.
"Yes?" she urges with a smirk when she realizes the full extent of her effect on him.
He shakes his head and clears his throat. "You look absolutely gorgeous," is the best he can do, and he leans down to show her how appreciative he is of her. She pushes him away before they get too heated. He sighs and runs a hand down her hair. "Stunning in every way," he murmurs, and they look at each other in a way he can only describe as eye fucking.
They're caught up in their own world, but it's broken by a cough, and they both look up to find Mary Margaret grinning at them.
"Don't mind me," she says with a goofy smile on her lips. "I didn't want to interrupt, I just wanted to remind you that you both don't want to be late."
"Are those for me?" Regina asks him then, pointing at the flowers he'd brought for her, and he looks down to his hand and nods. He momentarily forgot because of how beautiful she is.
"Yes," he says, handing them to her. "They don't compare to how blooming you loo tonight, but I hope you like them," he adds as he watches her sniff the roses and smile.
"I love them," she tells him, reaching up to place a soft kiss against his lips. "Thank you, they're beautiful."
He nods, and holds her close.
Mary Margaret interrupts them by telling them they'll be late if they don't leave and offers to put the flowers in a vase so that Regina won't have to worry about it. Regina thanks her and they both call on their boys, asks them both to be good and mind Aunty MM, before kissing them goodnight and leaving for the night.
...
She feels his eyes on her all night, feels his baby blues roam every curve hugged by the dress she'd specifically worn to make him swoon and salivate (because she feels confident in it, feels sexy in a way that she doesn't always, and it's a turn on for him, apart from how she knows how sexy he thinks she is already), and it makes her giddy, makes her a puddle of want for him too. It makes her feel naughty, and despite the fact that they're in a room full of her colleagues, she cannot help but tease him a little bit.
Nothing big, not really, just a suggestive glance here and there, a sway of her hips, and a well timed lick of her lips—all of it done to provoke him, to drive him crazy with want or need. She is careful not to go overboard, in case she herself gets too carried away. After all, her boyfriend is hot and is not without charm of his own that could turn her from flirtatious to downright ready to fuck within seconds, and of course she doesn't want that here, not now, not when they're in the middle of a crowd of people who may or may not already be judging them for being in love—as if it's any of their business.
She supposes she should care a little more, be a little more cautious, after all these are people she works with and if she's not careful she could be the next hot topic in the break room, but she just cannot find it in her heart to do so. Let them talk, let them judge, fuck it and fuck them all, she's happy, stupidly so, and she has her boyfriend in her arms, looking deliciously sinful in his navy suit, looking good enough to eat—and she will, later, later when she finally gets him alone.
She turns to smile at him just as the Art History professor, Jefferson Hatter, excuses himself to greet Mallory Draco (the no nonsense Zoology professor, who also happens to be Regina's sorority sister and ex drinking buddy—and she pins a note on her mind to greet her later), but finds his brow knitted into a frown, and his lips pulled down. She's not sure why, and she asks, probes a little into why he's suddenly so sullen when they'd started the first half of the party really well, but he shrugs her off, tells her it's nothing, she shouldn't worry, and tries to force a smile. But she knows him better than that, knows better than to believe that nothing is wrong when it clearly does not look like it, but she lets it slide nonetheless, not wanting to ruin the night for the both of them. She reaches up to land a kiss on his lips, careless of who's looking—they can all gawk if that's what they want, Regina doesn't give a fuck—and that seems to pacify him a little, has him smiling a small but genuine smile at her, and has some of the tension leave his shoulder.
...
He is tensed. Actually, that's an understatement. He's pissed. He's royally fucking pissed, and he's not sure why.
Oh, he knows why, knows that it's the subtle glance of appreciation that the mad Hatter (as his students had called him back when Robin had still been attending Columbia) sends his girlfriend's way, knows it the way that he so carelessly lands a hand at the back of Regina's back as though Robin's hadn't already been resting there. It's the kiss on the cheek that lasts longer than necessary, or the hand holding that's so blatant and hardly even disguised for his benefit.
He's just not sure why it bothers him so much—he trusts Regina. So, he tries not to be pissed, because again, he trusts Regina, knows it's just friendly for her and that she loves him. For fuck's sake, she'd brought him here to meet her colleagues, knowing full well that half of the room had been his professors, too, and she doesn't seem to care about that, because all that he is, all that he cares about being is someone she is in love with. So he knows that the green eyed monster rearing its ugly head is just an irrational part of him.
Perhaps, it's because he knows he's not good enough for her, that she's a well accomplished literature professor, about to earn her doctorate, and this room is filled with men more deserving, more equal, with more to prove, and more to bring into the relationship than sweet sentiments and love. Of course, he understands the importance of that, understands that love and trust are the foundations of a lasting relations, and he's grateful that they have both, but he still wishes he could bring more, could make her proud of him somewhat, be something more for her and their kids.
But it's not just Jefferson Hatter he worries about, though he wishes that's the case as he watches the man bounce to the other side of the room to go and greet Dr. Draco—he's harmless, a flirt and charming, sure, but he's not a threat. He's not entirely pissed at just Hatter, because as soon as the man leaves, another comes to ogle and pant over his girlfriend, and it's working on his last nerve.
For God's sake, Regina isn't a piece of meat, she's a woman, and she's not a display in the shop for them to come and ogle at. It doesn't stop them though, doesn't particularly stop Graham Humbert—the Botany professor who Robin has liked at first but he's starting to loathe the more he stands there and looks at his girlfriend in the way that make Robin's skin crawl. Robin inhales deeply as his nostrils flare, and he tries to control his temper when Graham kisses Regina's cheek and lingers a little too long for comfort, and Regina doesn't seem the least bit bothered or phased by it.
Well, damn it to hell, he grouses in his head as he sulks by Regina's side.
He watches like a hawk as once or twice, Graham accidentally brushes Regina's skin or arms, or whatever part of her he can reach. He ignores Robin completely, too, and though that usually won't bother Robin, it does now because he knows the motive behind it.
Graham is being a dick is all. He thinks he can monopolize Regina's attention and is shameless enough to flaunt it to Robin. Suddenly, all the jealousy that Robin has been trying to stamp down for the better part of the night had exploded inside him.
There's a reason Graham is doing this, a reason behind his audacity to flaunt it to Robin's face—because he knows he can. And that's what makes Robin sick, to think that he might have had the right once, and him thinking he still has it, despite her being in a very serious, committed relationship.
Unable to stop himself from seeing red and green, and not being entirely sure if she can stop himself from punching Graham Humbert in the face right then, he excuses himself. He extracts himself from his girlfriend and she throws him a curious look, but he doesn't bother to explain. If she can ignore him in favour of Graham, then he certainly does not owe her explanations (it's a stupid, childish thought but he doesn't feel like being very rational right now).
He makes his way to the side of the hall. It's part of a hotel that the faculty and staff had rented for the night, and there's a garden just right outside it, as it is detached to the actual hotel. He walks down the path and enjoys the peace and quiet for a while as the sound of laughter and music from the hall slowly fades away.
He looks up and tries to breathe in and out slowly, trying to calm himself because he doesn't want to make a scene, doesn't want to do anything that might embarrass Regina. He's an embarrassment enough, she doesn't need to deal with the stress of having to clean up after a huge mess he'll undoubtedly make.
The moon is glowing and beautiful, and he tries to focus on that, tries to channel his anger into more pleasant thoughts: her smile, her dark eyes, their boys, Henry's happy cheer when he'd finally landed an arrow on the bulls eye (it's a nerf set he'd gotten the boy after he'd been so excited to try his hand at archery upon seeing Robin—but Robin deemed him too young for an actual set), Roland cuddling with Regina. He thinks of their family, unofficial yet because as much as they love each other he knows it's too early, knows they aren't ready for that level of commitment, but they are a family nevertheless.
He thinks of her and her commitment to him, thinks of how brave she is being, facing her colleagues and tagging her no good boyfriend with her. She could have had anyone in that room, hell, half of that room had been panting over her, and he'd seen the looks that had been thrown her way—appreciative ones; and the looks thrown his way—all wondering, some disgusted that he even had the nerve to be among their ranks. Regina deserves better than him, that he knows, and though he hates to admit it, half of that room might be better for her, starting with Graham Humbert and Jefferson Hatter.
He suddenly has the biggest urge to cry, as he takes a seat on one of the benches. His head falls to the palm of his hands, and he tries to think that no, Regina has chosen him, over Jefferson or Graham, and over all of the Jeffersons and Grahams of the world. She's chosen him.
"Robin?" he hears her soft voice call, and he looks up at her with glassy eyes, and she looks back at him with puzzlement. She walks over to where he is sitting and takes a seat beside him, her warm hand cupping the back of his neck. "Are you okay, babe?"
No. He is not okay, but does he really want to burden her with it?
"You shouldn't put your hands around other men," is what comes out of his lips in a growl and he could absolutely kick himself. Of all the things to ask, right? Of course, he has not an ounce of control over his feelings, and it's clear that they're doing the talking for him.
A gasp slips past her perfect little mouth, and Robin thinks of the way she sounds when they make love, when he fucks her tight little cunt, and his anger doubles, so sure as he is that Graham had been on the receiving end of it too.
"What did you just say?" she asks him incredulously, and no he doesn't really want to fight, does not want to turn this into an ugly argument, but his tongue seems to have a mind of its own and it lashes out.
"I said," he begins and he turns to her, clasping her wrist in his hand, enough to hold her but not enough to hurt her, "you shouldn't put your hands around other men." He pulls her close, and she resists at first, but melts into him anyway when he kisses her, pushes his tongue in without permission and starts stroking, sucking, nipping at hers. "Not when you look as good as you do," he adds before taking her mouth in a possessive, rough kiss once more.
She pulls away and pushes him slightly. "How dare you?!" she asks and it makes him regret his actions right away.
He lets her wrist go and shakes his head. If he didn't deserve her before, he certainly could not claim to even be worthy to be in her presence now. He'd let male ego take over, and now he knows it's going to cost him deeply.
He hangs his head and doesn't look her in the eye, cannot actually look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," he says plaintively, and he sighs, rubs a hand across his face and hates himself more and more by the second.
Regina seems to take pity in him as she takes his chin between her forefinger and thumb, the way she does with their boys, and she gives him a small smile. "I forgive you," she says, "I know that wasn't you. I know that something is bothering you. But I cannot help you if you don't tell me."
She never ceases to amaze him, her heart, her capacity for forgiveness, her eyes now full of love and understanding. He loves her so fucking much.
"What's wrong, Robin?" she asks.
"Who is Graham Humbert to you?" he asks, instead of answering her question. And he knows that isn't an answer, not completely, but it's an answer in its own, and understanding dawns on Regina's beautiful brown eyes.
A soft gasp tumbles from her lips and she knows. Sure, they've talked about it some time back, when she'd been on this end of the stick, when she'd been the one jealous, and sure, he'd seen the two men hanging around his girlfriend and had been quietly jealous over that, too, but they'd never really discussed it in detail. Perhaps, he hadn't looked as hard as he had now, and missed the signs.
"Okay, I'll be honest because I don't want to hide anything from you, and because I want to assure you that you shouldn't be worried," she begins and it's confession enough, or at least it's enough to make him want to go back to the room and thrash Graham good and proper. "Graham and I have a history together—a complicated one at that."
"How complicated?" he grounds out and he tamps down his anger, puts a lid down the green eyed monster's head because she doesn't deserve his fury, doesn't deserve the feelings he's feeling right now.
"We had a one night stand," she says, and it makes him want to punch a hole on a surface—like Graham's face. "And a few more after that, but it's nothing serious, I guess at one point we both hoped we felt more for each other, but it's not to be. We were casual, not committed—nothing like us." The last bit is imploring, pleading, as if asking him to see reason.
And he will, in a moment, he just needs to stew in his anger for a minute.
"Do you still wish you felt more?" he asks and he loathes to sound so insecure, but damnit, he loves this woman more than life, more than anything barring their sons, and well, he cannot help it.
"Oh God no," she murmurs, sounding properly horrified, as though he's said something so preposterous, and to him it is, it really is. "Lord God no. I...whatever I had with Graham, it's in the past, and it's not real. He doesn't make me feel the way you do, doesn't make my heart beat the way it does only for you. He's...he was an outlet when I needed him, when I needed to feel something and nothing at the same time—maybe to make sure that somehow, I'm still here, you know, and I'm still human."
"Did it work?" he asks. "Did you feel what you wanted to?"
She shakes her head. "No," she says flatout, and he looks at her, really looks at her and finds sincerity in her eyes. "Graham was...he was just there, a warm body to warm my bed, but he never warmed my heart."
It's hard to hear, hurts him to hear it, but he appreciates her honesty. He knows it's taken her a lot of courage to admit that. He knows of her history, knows her struggle before she'd gotten Henry, and even after, the struggle of being a single mother, or losing the people she'd loved, of feeling desolate and alone and unsure, and he knows how desperate she'd been then if she'd had to resort to the physical gratification, just to feel something and to forget all the other feelings. It must have been hard for her, too, to set out to do something and have failed miserably at it.
"I'm sorry," he repeats, his anger ebbing away slowly.
She nods, and then she looks down at her palm, and she's the one looking insecure now, though he's not sure why. "Do you really doubt my love for you?" she asks, and ah, that's why. But no, of course he doesn't. "Have I ever given you the impression that I didn't love you, that I was going to leave you? Because I know I have before...when we were fighting this...but Robin, I never want you to doubt what I feel for you." She looks up at him, her eyes full of hurt, and fuck no, this isn't what he'd set out to do. "I love you, and I will prove it to you, will keep proving it to you till I completely erase that thought from your heart and mind."
She looks remorseful and heartbroken, and he feels like a grade A asshole, and fuck him and fuck his stupid jealousy because fuck this shit, this is totally not what he wants.
"No, God Regina no," he says, and he hauls her into his arms and holds her tight, holds her to wash away the doubts and the hurt and the pain caused by his stupid jealousy. "No, I don't doubt you. I was just jealous and stupid, and I never meant to hurt you my love," he says, kissing her once more, with the same amount of passion as earlier but not nearly as brutal, in fact without the cruelty of his kiss before, but with all the gentleness and love he feels for her, always feels for her.
Regina is the one to pull away but presses a soft kiss against his lips once more before resting her forehead against his. "I love you, Robin," she says.
"And I you, my darling," he murmurs. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I was jealous." She shakes her head, about to protest, but he shushes her with a kiss. "I'm scared," he admits. "I'm scared that one day you'll wake up, take one good look at everything and everyone around you and see that there are others out there who are better for you. And I'm not scared because I doubt your love, or our love, because I don't, I never will. I know you love me, I feel it in every kiss, see it in your eyes and smile, and I feel it when you hold me and when we make love. And I hope you do the same." She nods, and promises that of course, yes, she does. "But I'm scared because I know in my heart that I am no good for you, that you deserve better. There is a room filled with men with degrees and doctorates with so much accolades and so much to give you—a comfortable life, a comfortable home, and all the finer things for Henry. I could offer you none of that, not yet, and I feel...undeserving of you sometimes, because you deserve the best in the world, and so does Henry."
"But don't you see?" she asks, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. It's not. "You offer me the world, with your love, as cheesy as that sounds. I feel like I'm a Queen just by the way you look at me. And I don't need fine things, I need you. And Roland, and Henry, and our little family—that's all I need. You are all I need." She pauses as she cuddles closer to him, clings even tighter to him. "The way you love my son like he's yours, the way you love and care for him and Roland, equally, and the way you love me, that's all I need and want. All of those stuffy spoiled men inside can shove their doctorate degrees up their asses, I don't care about that, because no one, none of them can give me what you give me. No one can love me the way you love me, Robin. That's all that matters to me."
He looks down at her, finds the sincerity, the eagerness in her eyes and he cannot resist it, he leans down and kisses her, takes what she gives him, all of it, because as long as she wants him, he'll be there, for her and be exactly whatever she needs him to be.
"Marry me," he breathes out, and fuck he hasn't planned for this, has thought only moments ago how they're not ready for this, but it's out, the words are out and he cannot take them back. He looks at her eyes, and finds the surprise there. He rushes to explain. "Not right away, not until you want to. I can wait for you forever if you want me to...but I just...Be mine, Regina. Say you'll let me love you for the rest of our lives."
It's not enough to call her girlfriend anymore. It seems such a frivolous word compared to what they feel for each other, for what they are to each other, and he needs her promise, just as he promises her that their futures are now irrevocably intertwined—that one day he might call her his wife.
The unshed tears on her eyes finally fall as she nods vigorously and throws her arms around him, kissing him for all he is worth. He doesn't have a ring now, but of course, he'll get her one, soon, but for now it's enough for him when she says:
"Yes, of course, yes, a million times."
He hugs her closer to him then and thanks his lucky stars or whatever force brought her to him for giving him the opportunity to love this stunning woman in his arms.
The world might think that he's not deserving of her, might not be worthy, and he might agree but here, right now, as she looks at him with love in her eyes, looking at him like he does deserve her, he feels like for once, he does, he really does.