Old Habits
Part 3
Splitting his watch between the two tall windows, Tristan tried in vain to watch both ends of the street at the same time. Traffic was non-existent for a Friday night, and no one was about on foot. His wristwatch seemed to have stopped. The second hand still swept around the dial, but the minute hand did not advance.
When the phone rang, his heart came close to stopping then pounded wildly.
"Hullo?" He barely recognised the voice as his own.
"Is he there?" Jamie asked.
"No, not yet."
"Tris, we looked all over, and we're on the way back."
Tristan moved to the window and pulled the drapes back. "All ri-"
He heard Jamie demanding his attention, but continued staring at the person walking along the street, head down and hands in pockets. He was certain who it was, but tried to persuade himself not to jump to conclusions. When the lone figure turned at their steps, he finally responded to Jamie's entreaties.
"Robbie's here, Jamie. He's here," and rang off before Jamie could answer. He threw the phone down and hurried to the door. He heard the downstairs door slam and Robin's light tread on the stairs.
Yanking the door open with one hand, he used the other to pull Robin into the flat. "Are you all right?" he demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him up and down.
"I'm fine. What's —"
"Where have you been? I expected you home two hours ago."
"I was walking."
The worry and concern Tristan had been harbouring all night boiled over into anger. Tightening his grip on Robin's shoulders, he gave him a shake. "You walked home? Is that what you're saying?"
"Let go of me!" Robin demanded, trying to pull free of Tristan's grasp.
"Answer me, young man! Did you walk home from Jamie's?"
"Most of the way, yeah."
"You walked halfway across London in the dead of night," Tristan clarified. "Robin, do you know how dangerous that was? I don't like you walking to the tube station in Jamie's neighbourhood after dark. Can you imagine how I feel about you taking this kind of risk?"
Robin pulled away and took a step back. "Nothing happened!"
"For which you are extremely lucky! Good lord, what were you thinking?"
"That I'm an adult and can take care of myself."
"An adult would call."
"And ask permission?" Robin demanded. "Yes, that sounds very mature to me."
"Robbie —"
Jamie exploded through the door without bothering to knock, headed directly for Robin. Grabbing hold of his arm, he shouted, "Where the hell were you? We've been out of our minds with worry!"
"He's all right, Jamie," Tristan interrupted. "Robin decided to walk home."
"You walked home?" Jamie asked, his voice no quieter. "Why would you do something that bloody stupid? We've been looking all over for you!"
Robin's head snapped up, his eyes the swirling grey of the sea at the height of a storm. He was angry in a way Tristan had never seen before, his face dead white with a patch of high colour over each cheekbone, and his body rigid. His hands curled into fists as he wrenched away from Jamie's hold.
"Why are you even here, Jamie? My whereabouts aren't any of your concern."
"You're my best friend. How do you think I felt when Tristan called and asked me where you were, and I didn't know?" He pantomimed holding a phone to his ear. "Was I supposed to say 'No, Robin isn't here, he left hours ago' and then roll over and go back to sleep without a second thought? I was terrified. It's twenty bloody minutes on the bloody tube, Robin. You should have been home by ten-thirty at the latest."
"So now you're my bloody nanny?" Robin demanded, closing the distance between them until he stood toe to toe with Jamie.
"Someone should be. Geoff was about to start ringing hospitals. We were that afraid something had happened to you."
Thinking to defuse the escalating argument, Tristan explained, "Robin, Jamie was worried about you."
Robin's head snapped around to face him. "He can damn well back off! Nothing happened! No one bothered me, and if they had, I could've taken care of myself! I'm not incompetent, I'm not a child, and I won't let any of you treat me as if I were!" Robin focused on Geoff leaning against the now-closed door and shoved Jamie out of his way as he strode over to him. "You must have something to say, Geoff. Everyone else certainly has."
Head tilted to one side and arms crossed over his chest, Geoff studied him for a moment. Standing up, he closed the distance between them and simply pulled Robin into an embrace. "I'm glad you're safe, sweetheart," he said quietly.
Robin had brought his hands up to push Geoff away, but instead he grasped the front of his shirt like a lifeline. When Robin's knees started to buckle, Tristan took a step forward, thinking to take hold of him before he slid to the floor. At his approach, Robin tightened his grip on Geoff's shirt until his knuckles were white.
Geoff's eyes met Tristan's as he shook his head slightly in warning. "I've got him, Tris. Why don't you give us a minute?"
"Robbie," Tristan tried, unable to walk away.
At the sound of his voice, Robin buried his face against Geoff's chest. "Go away, I don't want to see you."
"It's all right, Tris." Digging in his pocket, Geoff pulled out his keys and reached around Robin to toss them to Tristan. "Take Jamie upstairs. We'll be fine here."
Tristan looked at Jamie standing shocked and silent beside him, all the colour drained from his face. In the short time he had known him, Tristan had never seen him anything less than animated. Robin's burst of anger had clearly frightened him beyond measure.
Grabbing hold of one cold hand, Tristan guided him toward the door. "Come on, let's give them a minute."
When they reached the landing, Jamie sank down onto the stairs instead of climbing them. "Damn it, why did I yell at him?" he mumbled, his hands covering his face.
Giving in to the urge to pace, Tristan walked to the window and peered down at the darkened street. He was amazed the sun had not risen, he felt as if he had been up all night.
"Tris?"
Tristan turned from the window and, seeing Jamie's pale, scared face, crossed the landing to sit beside him on the stairs. "It'll be all right, Jamie. There's nothing to worry about."
"I've known him since we were six, and I've never seen him that mad. Robin doesn't lose his temper, he doesn't!"
Tristan forced a smile and wondered how successful it was. He felt as if his face were cracking with the effort. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"
"I don't like his being angry with me."
"I don't either," Tristan admitted.
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Jamie cleared his throat. "There's something I should tell you. Robin said you were furious about the cigarette — the other night at the restaurant, I mean."
"I was. He's been warned about smoking."
Jamie suddenly found the fingernails of his right hand fascinating. "Well, you see, what you should know is — about the cigarette, I mean... "
"It was yours?" Tristan queried gently, feeling the knot in his stomach hitch tighter still.
Relief flooded Jamie's features. "Yes! You see, with Geoff being a nurse, I thought he'd go absolutely mad about my smoking —"
"Which he would."
"— and I wanted to make a good impression on him."
Tristan cursed himself for ignoring Robin's pleas to explain what had happened. "How did Robin end up with it?"
Jamie squirmed. "Once I'd had a glass of wine, I lit up. It was automatic, Tris, it's something I always do! When I saw Geoff coming toward me, I panicked and..."
"Gave it to Robbie and told him to act as if it were his."
"Asked him," Jamie clarified, "but yes. I never intended he should get in trouble. I didn't think! I only wanted to make a good impression on Geoff."
"I know you did, but did you consider the position you put Robin in?"
"But I didn't expect you to arrive so soon!"
Tristan shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You asked Robin to help you deceive Geoff and, more importantly, break his word to me."
"But he didn't smoke it!"
"You said it was automatic for you to light up after you had some wine. Think of how tempted Robin must've been. It hasn't been an easy few months for him."
"I know that, Tris, I honestly do. I don't want him to be ill again."
"Of course you don't. Neither do I, and that's why I'm so mad on his not smoking."
Jamie sighed and slumped against him. "I'm not used to sharing him yet. It has always been me worrying about Robbie — only me, do you see? Now he has a whole other life with you, away from me."
Tristan wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "It isn't a 'whole other life', Jamie. It's Robin's life. Yes, I'm in it now, but you're still an important part of it."
At the sound of the door opening, they were both on their feet. Geoff closed it behind him and looked at the two of them, shaking his head.
"I thought you'd gone upstairs."
"Too far away," Jamie told him. "How's Robbie?"
"Calmer." He turned to Tristan. "He had a headache so I gave him two aspirins."
"Is he asleep?"
"No, he curled up in the chair, and I wrapped a blanket around him."
Tristan took a breath and asked, "Will he see me?"
"He wants to see you." Geoff laid a restraining hand on his arm when Tristan would have charged into the flat. "Go slowly, Tris. He's still shaky." He turned his attention to Jamie who was inching his way around them toward the door. "And where are you going?"
"I want to see Robbie," Jamie said in a tone a breath away from whining.
"Not tonight, he's exhausted. You may see him in the morning." Geoff took the keys from Tristan and handed them to Jamie. "Upstairs with you now."
"But Robbie needs —"
"To stay calm," Geoff finished. "You'll see him tomorrow." He waited until Jamie's shoulders slumped. "Go ahead up, I'll be right behind you." When Jamie had started up the stairs, he turned his attention back to Tristan. "I meant what I said, Tris."
"I'll make certain he stays calm. Thanks."
Tristan let himself into the flat, pausing to lock the door and slide the chain. Geoff had turned one lamp down and the other off completely, leaving the room bathed in soft light. Robin was turned sideways in the armchair, his head resting against it as he sipped from the mug he held in both hands.
"Geoff made you a cup of tea?" Tristan asked as he moved toward the end of the sofa closest to the chair. When Robin did not protest, he sat down. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped between them.
"I'm to drink as much of it as I can."
Tristan put his hand out, taking the mug from Robin. He took a sip and almost gagged. Geoff had been extremely liberal with the sugar. "Oh, that is sweet."
"He said I was shocky."
"Have you had enough?" Tristan asked.
Robin nodded; clearly relieved to see Tristan set the mug aside. Drawing up his legs, he wrapped his arms around them. After a moment of uncertain silence, Robin whispered, "I'm sorry I shouted, but I won't apologise for losing my temper."
Tristan reached out and took hold of Robin's ankle, the only part of him he could reach from where he sat. Beneath his fingers, he felt a fine trembling. "I don't need an apology from you, darling. Please tell me what's wrong."
Robin turned his face away into the chair, and Tristan fought the urge to take him into his arms.
"Then I'll start, shall I? I'm so sorry about Tuesday night, Robbie. I didn't — I wouldn't listen to you, and I punished you unjustly." He waited until one blue-grey eye peeked at him. "I was tired and out of sorts, and when I saw that cigarette in your hand, I jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"I tried to tell you."
"You did, but I was too angry and obstinate to listen."
"That's what hurt the most," Robin whispered, "Not the spanking, but your ignoring what I was trying to say."
"Darling, I am so very sorry," Tristan said, reaching out a hand to touch Robin's face. To his dismay, Robin pulled back, not allowing contact.
"That's what I was thinking about tonight. I wanted to get it all straightened out in my mind."
Tristan folded his hands together and took a deep breath. The knot in his stomach had eased up a bit upon seeing Robin, but now it tightened painfully.
Robin focused on the window. "I decided something tonight, Tris."
The pain increased exponentially, but Tristan forced himself to inquire, "Which was?"
"I can't do this."
"'This'? Do you mean us? Our relationship?"
When Robin nodded, Tristan thought he might die.
"I'm sorry, Tris, but I can't do this by myself. I know I should be stronger, but I'm not. You need someone who can handle things far better than I can." Robin's voice was thick with tears, but his words did not falter. "I love you, but I need too much from you."
"Never more than I'm willing to give!" Tristan protested.
Robin drew a shaky breath. "I'm a burden —"
"Don't you ever say or think that!" Tristan ordered. "You are never a burden!"
"But I am," Robin insisted. "You shouldn't have to fetch me after you've spent fourteen hours working."
Tristan grabbed him by his upper arms, forcing Robin to focus on him. "Listen to me. As proven tonight, you are more than capable of finding your way home, so I didn't 'have to' fetch you at all. I did because I didn't want to come home to an empty flat. Because I wanted to see you that much sooner. Because I felt horrible about cancelling our plans at the last minute."
"It doesn't change anything, Tris," Robin replied. "I can't do this by myself. I can't be us. I've tried, I really have, but it doesn't work."
Tristan shook his head. "It doesn't, but it isn't your fault, it's mine. I am the one who failed. I've worked unspeakable hours, stumbled in like a zombie and fallen into bed — all without a single thought of what I was doing to you. You're not my housekeeper; you're not my cook. I've neglected you — and us for the past few weeks. I haven't listened to you. Morning, noon and night, I've thought only of my job."
"There are times," Robin confessed, "when I think you don't like me very much."
"Oh, Robbie! Don't ever think I don't love you. I've never loved anyone more," Tristan said, pulling him into his lap and crushing him against his chest. "Never doubt it for a second." Holding Robin's face between his shaking hands, he kissed him firmly.
When they paused to draw breath, Robin leaned into him. Tristan rested his cheek against soft hair; his arms wrapped tightly around Robin's slender form.
"I lost sight of my priorities," he admitted. "I fell back into old habits — the ones Geoff warned me weren't much good to begin with. You, on the other hand, did more than you ever should have. We have an agreement, and you have held up your end of it and more. You've done yeoman's work keeping me together, and you should be nothing less than proud of yourself." He dropped a kiss onto Robin's hair. "I don't want to lose you, Robbie. What we share is the most important, most precious thing in my life. I was an idiot to lose sight of that."
"I don't want to lose you either," Robin mumbled, "but suppose this should happen again?"
"It won't. You have my word on it." He hugged Robin fiercely. "Just remember I'm new to this relationship too, all right? Whenever I make mistakes, I expect you to tell me."
Robin shifted in his arms, tucking his head into the spot where Tristan's neck met his shoulder. "It was a terrible feeling tonight."
"What was?"
"Thinking no one cared where I was or whether or not I got home safely."
Tristan felt his throat close and swallowed hard. "We cared, sweetheart, we cared so very much," he whispered.
One of Tristan's arms stayed wrapped tightly around Robin, while the other stroked over muscles tense from days of uncertainty and unhappiness. Robin leaned against him, but did not relax into him as he usually did. The freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose stood out clearly against the pallor of his skin, and the deep crease between his brows gave his face a pinched, worried expression. Tristan stroked that spot with his thumb. The worry mark was always an accurate indicator of the stress Robin felt, and Tristan hated knowing he had put it there.
"Do you remember the first time we talked about our relationship?" Tristan asked.
Robin nodded. "When I started getting better, and you told me I didn't have to clear off."
"What did we decide about worrying?"
"That you would do it for both of us?"
"And that still stands." Tristan touched the spot between his eyebrows. "You've a furrow there tonight."
Robin gave the spot a rough rub with his fist.
"I promise you, things will change. I swear it." He kissed Robin. "Now all you need do is believe me."
"I'll try."
"There is no try," Tristan teased gently.
Robin let out a small huff of exasperation. "Easier said than done, Master Yoda."
Tristan switched the lamp off. "I'm perfectly serious, Robbie. I don't want you fretting. That's my responsibility."
For more than an hour, they remained there on the sofa. After a time, Tristan craned his neck at an uncomfortable angle, checking if Robin was awake. He was, but barely. Tristan laid back his head on the cushion and gazed up at the ceiling, his thoughts slowing and his mind clearing as he felt Robin relax into sleep.
'There are times when I think you don't like me very much.'
His arms instinctively tightened around Robin, horrified he would ever have cause to think such a thing. He could not conceive of loving someone he did not like, and he had never loved anyone more. The shock, though, had made something startlingly clear: it was his job he didn't much care for and hadn't for a long time. Too many clients foisted on him; too little time to do a proper job on any single account. And for what? The firm was already top heavy with management, most of them related by blood or marriage. Advancement was improbable. He had had offers in the past from other agencies and an occasional client, but had rarely taken the time to investigate. On Monday, he would begin making discrete inquiries among some trusted colleagues.
He dropped a kiss onto the auburn hair. In the morning, he would tell Robin — no, rather they would discuss it. His partner did not like change or upheaval, but Tristan was certain he could talk him round without too much difficulty. The last few weeks had shown them how important and necessary time spent together was to them both.
Calmer now he had a plan, Tristan felt the last knot of anxiety loosen. A wave of exhaustion reminded him of how long and stressful the day had been. He stretched and sat up. Robin woke, his eyes bleary and unfocused.
"Wha'?" he asked.
Tristan shifted forward on the sofa, never loosening his hold. "Time for bed, love."
His eyes already closing, Robin looped his arms around Tristan's neck, content Tristan would carry him. Tristan walked the few steps to the bedroom. He settled Robin on the bed, then went to the window to lower the shade. Dawn was only hours away.
Stripping off his clothes, he left them in an untidy pile on the floor and padded back to the bed where Robin lay curled up. Lifting Robin's foot, he unlaced a trainer, removing that and a sock, then followed suit on the other foot. Robin did not stir. Rolling him onto his back, Tristan made fast work of unfastening his jeans and sliding them off. This time he was rewarded with a sigh, but no other sign of waking. When all his clothes lay on the floor, Tristan crawled into bed and covered them both with the bedclothes.
Curling up around Robin's warm body, he closed his eyes. Feeling at peace for the first time in more than a fortnight, he followed him into dreamless sleep.
Tristan and Robin
When the phone rang, his heart came close to stopping then pounded wildly.
"Hullo?" He barely recognised the voice as his own.
"Is he there?" Jamie asked.
"No, not yet."
"Tris, we looked all over, and we're on the way back."
Tristan moved to the window and pulled the drapes back. "All ri-"
He heard Jamie demanding his attention, but continued staring at the person walking along the street, head down and hands in pockets. He was certain who it was, but tried to persuade himself not to jump to conclusions. When the lone figure turned at their steps, he finally responded to Jamie's entreaties.
"Robbie's here, Jamie. He's here," and rang off before Jamie could answer. He threw the phone down and hurried to the door. He heard the downstairs door slam and Robin's light tread on the stairs.
Yanking the door open with one hand, he used the other to pull Robin into the flat. "Are you all right?" he demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking him up and down.
"I'm fine. What's —"
"Where have you been? I expected you home two hours ago."
"I was walking."
The worry and concern Tristan had been harbouring all night boiled over into anger. Tightening his grip on Robin's shoulders, he gave him a shake. "You walked home? Is that what you're saying?"
"Let go of me!" Robin demanded, trying to pull free of Tristan's grasp.
"Answer me, young man! Did you walk home from Jamie's?"
"Most of the way, yeah."
"You walked halfway across London in the dead of night," Tristan clarified. "Robin, do you know how dangerous that was? I don't like you walking to the tube station in Jamie's neighbourhood after dark. Can you imagine how I feel about you taking this kind of risk?"
Robin pulled away and took a step back. "Nothing happened!"
"For which you are extremely lucky! Good lord, what were you thinking?"
"That I'm an adult and can take care of myself."
"An adult would call."
"And ask permission?" Robin demanded. "Yes, that sounds very mature to me."
"Robbie —"
Jamie exploded through the door without bothering to knock, headed directly for Robin. Grabbing hold of his arm, he shouted, "Where the hell were you? We've been out of our minds with worry!"
"He's all right, Jamie," Tristan interrupted. "Robin decided to walk home."
"You walked home?" Jamie asked, his voice no quieter. "Why would you do something that bloody stupid? We've been looking all over for you!"
Robin's head snapped up, his eyes the swirling grey of the sea at the height of a storm. He was angry in a way Tristan had never seen before, his face dead white with a patch of high colour over each cheekbone, and his body rigid. His hands curled into fists as he wrenched away from Jamie's hold.
"Why are you even here, Jamie? My whereabouts aren't any of your concern."
"You're my best friend. How do you think I felt when Tristan called and asked me where you were, and I didn't know?" He pantomimed holding a phone to his ear. "Was I supposed to say 'No, Robin isn't here, he left hours ago' and then roll over and go back to sleep without a second thought? I was terrified. It's twenty bloody minutes on the bloody tube, Robin. You should have been home by ten-thirty at the latest."
"So now you're my bloody nanny?" Robin demanded, closing the distance between them until he stood toe to toe with Jamie.
"Someone should be. Geoff was about to start ringing hospitals. We were that afraid something had happened to you."
Thinking to defuse the escalating argument, Tristan explained, "Robin, Jamie was worried about you."
Robin's head snapped around to face him. "He can damn well back off! Nothing happened! No one bothered me, and if they had, I could've taken care of myself! I'm not incompetent, I'm not a child, and I won't let any of you treat me as if I were!" Robin focused on Geoff leaning against the now-closed door and shoved Jamie out of his way as he strode over to him. "You must have something to say, Geoff. Everyone else certainly has."
Head tilted to one side and arms crossed over his chest, Geoff studied him for a moment. Standing up, he closed the distance between them and simply pulled Robin into an embrace. "I'm glad you're safe, sweetheart," he said quietly.
Robin had brought his hands up to push Geoff away, but instead he grasped the front of his shirt like a lifeline. When Robin's knees started to buckle, Tristan took a step forward, thinking to take hold of him before he slid to the floor. At his approach, Robin tightened his grip on Geoff's shirt until his knuckles were white.
Geoff's eyes met Tristan's as he shook his head slightly in warning. "I've got him, Tris. Why don't you give us a minute?"
"Robbie," Tristan tried, unable to walk away.
At the sound of his voice, Robin buried his face against Geoff's chest. "Go away, I don't want to see you."
"It's all right, Tris." Digging in his pocket, Geoff pulled out his keys and reached around Robin to toss them to Tristan. "Take Jamie upstairs. We'll be fine here."
Tristan looked at Jamie standing shocked and silent beside him, all the colour drained from his face. In the short time he had known him, Tristan had never seen him anything less than animated. Robin's burst of anger had clearly frightened him beyond measure.
Grabbing hold of one cold hand, Tristan guided him toward the door. "Come on, let's give them a minute."
When they reached the landing, Jamie sank down onto the stairs instead of climbing them. "Damn it, why did I yell at him?" he mumbled, his hands covering his face.
Giving in to the urge to pace, Tristan walked to the window and peered down at the darkened street. He was amazed the sun had not risen, he felt as if he had been up all night.
"Tris?"
Tristan turned from the window and, seeing Jamie's pale, scared face, crossed the landing to sit beside him on the stairs. "It'll be all right, Jamie. There's nothing to worry about."
"I've known him since we were six, and I've never seen him that mad. Robin doesn't lose his temper, he doesn't!"
Tristan forced a smile and wondered how successful it was. He felt as if his face were cracking with the effort. "Well, there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"
"I don't like his being angry with me."
"I don't either," Tristan admitted.
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Jamie cleared his throat. "There's something I should tell you. Robin said you were furious about the cigarette — the other night at the restaurant, I mean."
"I was. He's been warned about smoking."
Jamie suddenly found the fingernails of his right hand fascinating. "Well, you see, what you should know is — about the cigarette, I mean... "
"It was yours?" Tristan queried gently, feeling the knot in his stomach hitch tighter still.
Relief flooded Jamie's features. "Yes! You see, with Geoff being a nurse, I thought he'd go absolutely mad about my smoking —"
"Which he would."
"— and I wanted to make a good impression on him."
Tristan cursed himself for ignoring Robin's pleas to explain what had happened. "How did Robin end up with it?"
Jamie squirmed. "Once I'd had a glass of wine, I lit up. It was automatic, Tris, it's something I always do! When I saw Geoff coming toward me, I panicked and..."
"Gave it to Robbie and told him to act as if it were his."
"Asked him," Jamie clarified, "but yes. I never intended he should get in trouble. I didn't think! I only wanted to make a good impression on Geoff."
"I know you did, but did you consider the position you put Robin in?"
"But I didn't expect you to arrive so soon!"
Tristan shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You asked Robin to help you deceive Geoff and, more importantly, break his word to me."
"But he didn't smoke it!"
"You said it was automatic for you to light up after you had some wine. Think of how tempted Robin must've been. It hasn't been an easy few months for him."
"I know that, Tris, I honestly do. I don't want him to be ill again."
"Of course you don't. Neither do I, and that's why I'm so mad on his not smoking."
Jamie sighed and slumped against him. "I'm not used to sharing him yet. It has always been me worrying about Robbie — only me, do you see? Now he has a whole other life with you, away from me."
Tristan wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "It isn't a 'whole other life', Jamie. It's Robin's life. Yes, I'm in it now, but you're still an important part of it."
At the sound of the door opening, they were both on their feet. Geoff closed it behind him and looked at the two of them, shaking his head.
"I thought you'd gone upstairs."
"Too far away," Jamie told him. "How's Robbie?"
"Calmer." He turned to Tristan. "He had a headache so I gave him two aspirins."
"Is he asleep?"
"No, he curled up in the chair, and I wrapped a blanket around him."
Tristan took a breath and asked, "Will he see me?"
"He wants to see you." Geoff laid a restraining hand on his arm when Tristan would have charged into the flat. "Go slowly, Tris. He's still shaky." He turned his attention to Jamie who was inching his way around them toward the door. "And where are you going?"
"I want to see Robbie," Jamie said in a tone a breath away from whining.
"Not tonight, he's exhausted. You may see him in the morning." Geoff took the keys from Tristan and handed them to Jamie. "Upstairs with you now."
"But Robbie needs —"
"To stay calm," Geoff finished. "You'll see him tomorrow." He waited until Jamie's shoulders slumped. "Go ahead up, I'll be right behind you." When Jamie had started up the stairs, he turned his attention back to Tristan. "I meant what I said, Tris."
"I'll make certain he stays calm. Thanks."
Tristan let himself into the flat, pausing to lock the door and slide the chain. Geoff had turned one lamp down and the other off completely, leaving the room bathed in soft light. Robin was turned sideways in the armchair, his head resting against it as he sipped from the mug he held in both hands.
"Geoff made you a cup of tea?" Tristan asked as he moved toward the end of the sofa closest to the chair. When Robin did not protest, he sat down. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs and his hands clasped between them.
"I'm to drink as much of it as I can."
Tristan put his hand out, taking the mug from Robin. He took a sip and almost gagged. Geoff had been extremely liberal with the sugar. "Oh, that is sweet."
"He said I was shocky."
"Have you had enough?" Tristan asked.
Robin nodded; clearly relieved to see Tristan set the mug aside. Drawing up his legs, he wrapped his arms around them. After a moment of uncertain silence, Robin whispered, "I'm sorry I shouted, but I won't apologise for losing my temper."
Tristan reached out and took hold of Robin's ankle, the only part of him he could reach from where he sat. Beneath his fingers, he felt a fine trembling. "I don't need an apology from you, darling. Please tell me what's wrong."
Robin turned his face away into the chair, and Tristan fought the urge to take him into his arms.
"Then I'll start, shall I? I'm so sorry about Tuesday night, Robbie. I didn't — I wouldn't listen to you, and I punished you unjustly." He waited until one blue-grey eye peeked at him. "I was tired and out of sorts, and when I saw that cigarette in your hand, I jumped to the wrong conclusion."
"I tried to tell you."
"You did, but I was too angry and obstinate to listen."
"That's what hurt the most," Robin whispered, "Not the spanking, but your ignoring what I was trying to say."
"Darling, I am so very sorry," Tristan said, reaching out a hand to touch Robin's face. To his dismay, Robin pulled back, not allowing contact.
"That's what I was thinking about tonight. I wanted to get it all straightened out in my mind."
Tristan folded his hands together and took a deep breath. The knot in his stomach had eased up a bit upon seeing Robin, but now it tightened painfully.
Robin focused on the window. "I decided something tonight, Tris."
The pain increased exponentially, but Tristan forced himself to inquire, "Which was?"
"I can't do this."
"'This'? Do you mean us? Our relationship?"
When Robin nodded, Tristan thought he might die.
"I'm sorry, Tris, but I can't do this by myself. I know I should be stronger, but I'm not. You need someone who can handle things far better than I can." Robin's voice was thick with tears, but his words did not falter. "I love you, but I need too much from you."
"Never more than I'm willing to give!" Tristan protested.
Robin drew a shaky breath. "I'm a burden —"
"Don't you ever say or think that!" Tristan ordered. "You are never a burden!"
"But I am," Robin insisted. "You shouldn't have to fetch me after you've spent fourteen hours working."
Tristan grabbed him by his upper arms, forcing Robin to focus on him. "Listen to me. As proven tonight, you are more than capable of finding your way home, so I didn't 'have to' fetch you at all. I did because I didn't want to come home to an empty flat. Because I wanted to see you that much sooner. Because I felt horrible about cancelling our plans at the last minute."
"It doesn't change anything, Tris," Robin replied. "I can't do this by myself. I can't be us. I've tried, I really have, but it doesn't work."
Tristan shook his head. "It doesn't, but it isn't your fault, it's mine. I am the one who failed. I've worked unspeakable hours, stumbled in like a zombie and fallen into bed — all without a single thought of what I was doing to you. You're not my housekeeper; you're not my cook. I've neglected you — and us for the past few weeks. I haven't listened to you. Morning, noon and night, I've thought only of my job."
"There are times," Robin confessed, "when I think you don't like me very much."
"Oh, Robbie! Don't ever think I don't love you. I've never loved anyone more," Tristan said, pulling him into his lap and crushing him against his chest. "Never doubt it for a second." Holding Robin's face between his shaking hands, he kissed him firmly.
When they paused to draw breath, Robin leaned into him. Tristan rested his cheek against soft hair; his arms wrapped tightly around Robin's slender form.
"I lost sight of my priorities," he admitted. "I fell back into old habits — the ones Geoff warned me weren't much good to begin with. You, on the other hand, did more than you ever should have. We have an agreement, and you have held up your end of it and more. You've done yeoman's work keeping me together, and you should be nothing less than proud of yourself." He dropped a kiss onto Robin's hair. "I don't want to lose you, Robbie. What we share is the most important, most precious thing in my life. I was an idiot to lose sight of that."
"I don't want to lose you either," Robin mumbled, "but suppose this should happen again?"
"It won't. You have my word on it." He hugged Robin fiercely. "Just remember I'm new to this relationship too, all right? Whenever I make mistakes, I expect you to tell me."
Robin shifted in his arms, tucking his head into the spot where Tristan's neck met his shoulder. "It was a terrible feeling tonight."
"What was?"
"Thinking no one cared where I was or whether or not I got home safely."
Tristan felt his throat close and swallowed hard. "We cared, sweetheart, we cared so very much," he whispered.
One of Tristan's arms stayed wrapped tightly around Robin, while the other stroked over muscles tense from days of uncertainty and unhappiness. Robin leaned against him, but did not relax into him as he usually did. The freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose stood out clearly against the pallor of his skin, and the deep crease between his brows gave his face a pinched, worried expression. Tristan stroked that spot with his thumb. The worry mark was always an accurate indicator of the stress Robin felt, and Tristan hated knowing he had put it there.
"Do you remember the first time we talked about our relationship?" Tristan asked.
Robin nodded. "When I started getting better, and you told me I didn't have to clear off."
"What did we decide about worrying?"
"That you would do it for both of us?"
"And that still stands." Tristan touched the spot between his eyebrows. "You've a furrow there tonight."
Robin gave the spot a rough rub with his fist.
"I promise you, things will change. I swear it." He kissed Robin. "Now all you need do is believe me."
"I'll try."
"There is no try," Tristan teased gently.
Robin let out a small huff of exasperation. "Easier said than done, Master Yoda."
Tristan switched the lamp off. "I'm perfectly serious, Robbie. I don't want you fretting. That's my responsibility."
For more than an hour, they remained there on the sofa. After a time, Tristan craned his neck at an uncomfortable angle, checking if Robin was awake. He was, but barely. Tristan laid back his head on the cushion and gazed up at the ceiling, his thoughts slowing and his mind clearing as he felt Robin relax into sleep.
'There are times when I think you don't like me very much.'
His arms instinctively tightened around Robin, horrified he would ever have cause to think such a thing. He could not conceive of loving someone he did not like, and he had never loved anyone more. The shock, though, had made something startlingly clear: it was his job he didn't much care for and hadn't for a long time. Too many clients foisted on him; too little time to do a proper job on any single account. And for what? The firm was already top heavy with management, most of them related by blood or marriage. Advancement was improbable. He had had offers in the past from other agencies and an occasional client, but had rarely taken the time to investigate. On Monday, he would begin making discrete inquiries among some trusted colleagues.
He dropped a kiss onto the auburn hair. In the morning, he would tell Robin — no, rather they would discuss it. His partner did not like change or upheaval, but Tristan was certain he could talk him round without too much difficulty. The last few weeks had shown them how important and necessary time spent together was to them both.
Calmer now he had a plan, Tristan felt the last knot of anxiety loosen. A wave of exhaustion reminded him of how long and stressful the day had been. He stretched and sat up. Robin woke, his eyes bleary and unfocused.
"Wha'?" he asked.
Tristan shifted forward on the sofa, never loosening his hold. "Time for bed, love."
His eyes already closing, Robin looped his arms around Tristan's neck, content Tristan would carry him. Tristan walked the few steps to the bedroom. He settled Robin on the bed, then went to the window to lower the shade. Dawn was only hours away.
Stripping off his clothes, he left them in an untidy pile on the floor and padded back to the bed where Robin lay curled up. Lifting Robin's foot, he unlaced a trainer, removing that and a sock, then followed suit on the other foot. Robin did not stir. Rolling him onto his back, Tristan made fast work of unfastening his jeans and sliding them off. This time he was rewarded with a sigh, but no other sign of waking. When all his clothes lay on the floor, Tristan crawled into bed and covered them both with the bedclothes.
Curling up around Robin's warm body, he closed his eyes. Feeling at peace for the first time in more than a fortnight, he followed him into dreamless sleep.
Tristan and Robin