whispersoflove

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robin goodfellow

Robin

Anael was beginning to think that God did not want him to connect with Robin again, at this stage. Each time he had tried to stop by and see the puck, since his last run-in with Prometheus, he had not found him at home. He wondered whether this time would be the right one even as he landed on his rooftop terrace, appearing at the same time as he shed the wings, walking over to the French windows to peer inside and see if Robin was in, knocking on the glass as he did so. He hadn't bothered pretending to wear warm clothes, and was in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, despite the cold.

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And Robin, this time, was fully clothed.

Rising from the couch, he walked over and opened the doors.

"Most people use the front door," he said. "Or the phone."

"Most people can't fly, and own phones," Anael replied with a small shrug, but didn't make a move to walk in just yet. Robin had said to stop by any time, but his reception made Anael doubt that he was, in fact, welcome. Maybe things had gone as bad as he had feared. "Is this a bad time?"

"Well, you did catch me at a lull in the binge of sex, drinking, and other deviant behavior," Robin said, gesturing for Anael to come inside. "So I guess your timing is good."

"Hmm." Anael stepped inside. "It's been off for a while now." He waited until Robin had closed the doors again, then reached out to put a hand on his hip. "How are you?" he asked, trying not to sound as if he expected his answer to make him feel guilty. It was a simple question.

"Well I've been spending a lot of time in strangers' beds," Robin said. "So that answers both inquiries, actually. You want a drink?"

Anael wasn't sure what Robin meant by 'both inquiries', but it sounded as if his hope for Prometheus to have talked to the puck, and worked things out to the best possible result, was nothing but a hope. "If you're having one," he answered, after a beat.

"Usually," Robin said dryly, and went to poor them both glasses of scotch.

Anael wasn't really someone that Robin wanted to see right now. If he looked into Robin's soul or whatever and saw some kind of heartbreak, Robin most certainly didn't want to hear about it.

"You feel -" Anael cut himself off, and took a sip of scotch, barely tasting it at all. He was frowning, and he looked back at Robin. "There's something I ought to tell you." He put the glass down on the nearest piece of furniture.

Robin flopped into a chair. "Whatever it is you think you're feeling from me, it's probably just something residual," he said. "I don't really want to hear it."

"It's not - I mean, it might be about that, but I won't tell you what I'm feeling if you don't want me to," Anael told him, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain as he talked. He still didn't know if this was the best thing to do, for Robin. But when in doubt, tell the truth.

"I know Prometheus," he stated, his eyes on Robin. If he had not needed breath to speak, he might have held it indefinitely. "We were chatting, and we realised we both knew you. He was upset when I mentioned we were - sleeping together, now and then. And now you feel the way you feel."

Robin froze. He hadn't actually expected to hear Prometheus' name come out of Anael's mouth. It took him off guard.

But the reaction was only for a moment, and then it was wiped away, replaced with careful nonchalance.

He shrugged. "It doesn't matter. He's gone anyway, just like always. I don't care what he thinks of my sex life."

Anael had not known what reaction to expect, but this had not been it. This stubborn refusal to react. To be angry with him. "I don't think it was your sex life he objected to, Robin," Anael answered, stepping closer and crouching by the armchair the puck was sprawled in. "I think he felt threatened. I think - I know - that he loves you very much."

Robin let out a snort of laughter. "Oh, you think everybody loves everybody. And don't look at me like that, I'm not some broken heart for you to piece back together."

"He does love you," Anael simply repeated, with the simple conviction of one who had felt it. It was a complicated sort of love, as complicated as the Titan itself, but it was no less real. Still, he stood back up and took a few steps to reclaim his glass, instead of pushing further. He looked down at the bourbon for a few seconds, then downed it, his back mostly to Robin.

Part of Robin wanted to know exactly what was said. He wanted to know for sure if this really had been why Prometheus left. But maybe a bigger part of him didn't want to know.

Should he be blaming Anael? Should he be angry?

"Well if that's why he left, then fuck him," Robin said, and stood up so that he could pour himself another drink.

"I don't know why he left," Anael admitted, looking back at Robin over his shoulder. "I only know that he was hurt. That I hurt him." He could not help but feel that it might have played a part, at least.

Robin looked away from him. "Prometheus knows who I am. What I am. Even if he did feel something for me... whatever you told him, it shouldn't matter. So it can't be that. Okay?"

"Okay," Anael quietly accepted, reaching out to wrap Robin's hand in one of his.

Robin let it linger for a moment, and then pulled his hand away.

"I told you, I'm not broken."

"Is that the only reason you can think of why I'd like to hold your hand?" Anael asked, his tone the lighter one he usually used around Robin. "I told you when we met, if you wanted to fuck me - you'd have to let me love you."

Robin sighed. "You're an odd bird."

Anael smiled slightly, and reached for Robin's hand again, meaning to thread their fingers together. "So I've been told."

Robin let Anael take his hand, but only for a second, because then he was pulling away and standing again. "Well, there you are. You've unburdened yourself, and there's no need to feel guilty about... whatever. All is well."

Anael frowned, unsure what to make of Robin's body language, coupled with his words. "Are you kicking me out?"

Robin crossed his arms over his chest. "Is there something you want that doesn't involve healing my broken heart?"

Anael's frown did not go anywhere as he answered, "I love spending time with you, regardless of the state of your heart."

Robin looked at him for a moment, and then let out a quiet sigh. "I don't feel like being loved right now, Anael."

If Anael's wings had still been out, they would have drooped with Robin's words. Anael was quiet for a second, then nodded his understanding, despite the sadness lacing his lungs. "I'll leave you be."

Robin nearly said something else - what, an apology? - but he stopped himself. He wasn't angry at Anael, but he just couldn't handle this right now, not with how he was feeling about Prometheus. The last thing Robin wanted was to reflect on his own feelings. To think about love.

"Come by another time," he said after a moment.

Anael looked back at Robin then. "I will." He had been about to simply go, but instead he stepped closer to brush a kiss on his cheek, squeezing his hand. Then he turned away to head out the way he had come.

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Robin

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