psychoshenanigans | Accord // Canon

Entry tags:

robin,
tekhetsio

Accord // Canon

You'd think he'd be exhausted, given the day he's had.

He'd barely waited until they were in the door to pounce on Tek again, though the addition of four walls made him less violent and a dozen times more confident. He'd dragged him in a slow, indulgent trail across the hideout until they finally made it to the bed they're in now. And who knows how much time they spent there... before they finally settled down to sleep.

The room's dark, now, and quiet. Robin is half-tangled in sheets, his back pressed lightly against Tek's chest. By all rights, he should be fast asleep, dead to the world--but sometime during that darkness and quiet, he stirs. His fingertips twitch, his eyelids flutter with unspoken dreams. He makes the smallest of sounds, a barely-audible whine.

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He'd actually thought he'd been sleeping. That's the trouble with not strictly needing to sleep as often as most things, especially with having so recently spent time in his true form. Even with the eventful day he'd had, he'd only fallen into a half-conscious sort of lull. However, his mind was quiet enough--happily numb and worn out by this point--that he'd thought he'd managed to actually drift off. It isn't until a tiny sound draws his attention and pulls him back far too easily that he realizes he's still awake.

His awareness drags back to the present, the room around him, but he doesn't stir. In case whatever it was turns out to be nothing, he wants to be able to drop off again easily. So, he doesn't move, doesn't open his eyes. Just quietly listens and waits.

The seconds stretch on to six... seven... eight... before he stirs again, fingers curling, shoulders hunching against something that can't be seen. It's slow, another quiet mewl edging in behind it.

But then he scrambles, sudden and all-at-once, up and twisted with a start. His hand flies up to his mouth, knuckles cover what would have otherwise been a shout of something terrified. He's breathing hard, he's shaking, his eyes are wide and unseeing.

He looks terrified.

Well, now his eyes are open. Along with shoving himself up onto one elbow as he startles, and then freezing. Just watching at first, wary and silent.

It takes a couple moments to even figure out what happened--his mind instantly reaching first for farfetched and even supernatural reasons for Robin's distress. ...It's only after he can't come up with an answer that his mind reels back in and considers the mundane.

Oh, right. Nightmares. Those happen.

His kind isn't terribly prone to dreams, so...

Tentatively, he wordlessly slinks up beside him.

The motion makes him realize that he's somewhere that isn't his own head, but he looks confusedly around in several wrong directions before he settles on Tek and realizes that he's there.

He makes a pathetic sound and flinches away from him. "...Tek?"

No, no no no. Not Tek. Gods, of all the people he'd never want to see him this way, he had to wind up here? No, no--he wanted to be here, so why is this--this isn't supposed to happen around people! The last time it did, he... It was so long ago...

He stutters out a curse and runs a hand through his hair and tries to clear the worst of it out of his head. Tries to smash everything back down. Don't start crying, don't fucking start crying.

Edited 2012-07-19 05:23 (UTC)

Luckily, he's only stuck on the gear of morbid fascination for a moment. The fear is just so vivid on him, even in the dark, he can't help but take a moment to watch. With the contrast between skin and eyes and hair, the expression practically glows.

But then he remembers that he should be doing something, not just staring.

So, still silent, he edges up, goes for light-but-definite contact--bumping his chest up against Robin's shoulder, resting a hand around on his shoulder.

He shivers at the touch, but doesn't flinch away this time. His breathing is a little uneven, still on the edge of panicking, but Tek being there forces him to take a steady breath, and that helps. It settles him a little. His staring into nothing fades back to looking tired, his head starts to tilt until he can find some part of Tek to rest it against.

"Sorry," he eventually mumbles, "Just a bad dream."

He's still quiet, for once not opting for words. For some reason, it just feels like the thing to do here. He supposes it feels like there is a spell hanging over, and he doesn't want to break it by speaking. Instead, just sink quietly into becoming a part of it. Otherwise, Robin could jar out of it, but in the way where everything just retreats instead of hanging around on his face where he can see it.

So, with a tug on the shoulder under his hand, he prompts Robin closer.

Just come here.

He doesn't need much prompting. With something like that hanging over his head, the other's silence feels like a boon. His gesture feels like such a kindness, even if it's not really true. Crow would never do something like this, which is almost a relief to think about.

They're not the same person. It's okay.

He settles down against his bedmate, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He's mostly quiet himself, save for a little "mn" of acceptance, of giving up.

At least he's stopped shaking. And his breathing seems normal, now.

"We can go back to sleep, if you want."

That's closer to better, anyway. But he'd seen that look. There had been enough behind it that it seemed like it took a physical effort to hold it back.

So, the arm that snakes around, looping around his chest and up onto a shoulder, gives him a little squeeze. And then stays there.

Apparently, if the situation is important enough and really calls for it, Tek can give hugs.

It's really nice. It kind of dislodges something that makes him shrug up his shoulders again, but his arm tightens too. He hugs him back for a minute, almost getting all worked up again. His breaths are wider, his heart beats so loud he'd swear Tek can hear it too--and maybe he can, he really doesn't know--but then it all vanishes under a shaking sigh.

"Why are you so quiet?" He looks up again, face weary from exhaustion and the way he'd been jolted awake. That nervousness still clings to the corners of his eyes, though, as he looks over Tek's face. Maybe he's not real. Maybe he's still dreaming. "It's freaking me out."

His eyes had been closed--better to observe the sound and feel of him in the dark, when sight doesn't matter so much--but he slides them open to lazy, dimly-glowing slits when Robin asks him. After a moment of just looking at him, he pulls a small smirk.

"I'm just sleepy. You wore me out earlier."

Which isn't it at all, of course. But it's easy to say, and he wants him to think about earlier that day.

The change is instant. Once he picks out that glowing eye in the dark, hears his voice, starts thinking about earlier in the day, he relaxes. Like he's been put at-ease by something.

He even manages a little laugh, pushing lightly at Tek's chest with his free hand. "Then go back to sleep. I'm fine."

Ah, just what he was looking for.

He shifts a little, not to truly rearrange how they are, but just to settle a bit. A little closer, a little more comfortable. Just a slight jostling motion to help them both focus on this little space, right here in the present.

"Tomorrow, will you tell me what that was?"

While he asks, he moves the hand from Robin's shoulder to brush the backs of fingers so lightly along the line of his jaw. Like feathers.

He doesn't want to tell him. Now that everything's so nice, he doesn't want drag it back up. He doesn't even want to start to explain any of it to Tek. Mostly because Tek would probably just laugh at him or use it against him or any other number of things he doesn't want to happen.

But then he goes and touches him like that. He shivers again, but not because of the nightmares.

"It's not interesting," he lies, "It's just old ghosts."

"Maybe it will help."

He sounds more musing than convincing, mostly busying himself with drawing that light line back and forth with his fingers, in no hurry, slow-paced and easing toward even slower.

"Maybe it will help dispel them."

He laughs again. Tired, maybe a little bitter.

"No, no, no, no, no." He shakes his head, hair brushing Tek's shoulder and upsetting the line of his hand against his jaw. "No, not in a million years."

Ha, well then. There's more of a smirk in his voice now, and he lets his hand go back to resting passively on Robin's shoulder.

"That bad, hmm?"

"Mm." He settles more against Tek without really thinking about it. He likes the attention a lot more than he likes everything else he could be focusing on.

"These ghosts never go away. Especially not him. He's too close to everything. Really pisses me off."

And then, somewhat sleepily, he shifts to press a kiss to the other's neck. He stays close. "Maybe tomorrow. I'll think about it."

"'Him,'" he repeats, musing. That's something he'll be thinking about for a while. He does wonder if it's the same 'him' that Robin has muttered comparisons about. Wouldn't that be something.

"I can't imagine." He's never let any one person that close--for better or worse, family or otherwise.

But then Robin seems to be settling, so he does too, even though he'd seemed pretty settled already. He brings his hand back to Robin's face--like he can't quite stay away from it--resting against it with curled fingers, the side of his thumb tracing a little circle on his cheekbone.

"Yeah. That's why I'll think about it."

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes again, slipping back into the darkness of the room, finally content with his surroundings again. He thinks about what it might be like, telling Tek about everyone--everything that happened--and it makes him nervous. He told Michael, and Michael made it better. But he also told Euri, and Euri made it much, much worse.

So, maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He lets his mind drift in other directions for a while, mulling a few things over, before he eventually mentions, "A hug, huh? Don't I feel privileged."

"You should." It's pointed, but very lighthearted.

The quiet is nice, but it looks like anything resembling sleep is still just as far away as it was before, as he answers right away when Robin speaks up again.

"Privileged... probably. But you've earned it."

Which is different than just deserving it, but at least it's something. And he gives him another little squeeze for it. Just affection.

He'll take it. He feels spoiled already, getting such affection from someone like him. It's the 'earned it' that makes him smile, makes this feel like it's not just another ploy to get him to do something.

And, true to his nature, he'll keep chasing after things that make him happy, no matter how poisonous they are. He shifts again, pulling himself up and pressing against Tek in a suggestive (if not still somewhat sleep-heavy) way.

"I could probably do a little more to earn it."

He tilts his head a little, close to Tek's own face, busy looking at those pretty eyes of his.

Ha. Oh, he is amused at this, and the evidence is creeping all over his face--the glow of his eyes sliding into even thinner slits as his smile widens.

He draws a fingertip in a little wandering line down this throat, this time.

"...What put you in this mood, anyway?

What to tell him? His eyes close as he thinks, repaying the feeling with fingers that snake along Tek's back, between his ribs and down the shape of his spine--as if he doesn't already have that memorized by touch alone.

"...I like you."

His own eyes open narrow as he searches in the dark for Tek's again, taking the hand that had been at his throat, thumb brushing over the lines of his palm. Always moving, always touching. Tek can probably feel Robin's breath on his fingertips.

"It is a privilege to get my very best... but I think you've earned it."

He bites absently at one of the other's fingers, tongue suggestively doing what it always does.

Flattery. Expert touch. Even an edge of challenge. ...What a combination.

He's really learning what gets him, isn't he?

His smile turns wry in the dark... but then he has to give up a little bit. Robin plays his cards so well, he lets his eyes slip closed and pulls in one of those slow and savoring breaths that slowly stretch his ribs.

On the exhale, his voice is a quiet and sarcastic rumble, "I thought I was callous and selfish."

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