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"Make sure you come right after Art club is over," Finney said for the third time that day.
"I heard you baby, don't worry, I'll be there," Robin assured him with a smile.
"I'm sorry...it's just I'm planning something special..."
"Hey...I'll be there right at five, I promise."
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Shit, shit, shit, shit. Robin glanced at his watch as he skidded to a stop in the Blake's driveway.
7:13
Fuck.
He was in such deep shit. He hadn't thought it was a big deal when Art had let out early and some of the guys asked if he wanted to go to the arcade. He had some time to kill anyways. But Robin's mind was easily distracted, and one thing had led to another, and a Street Fighter tournament had broken out, and yeah...he had totally lost track of time.
Robin steeled himself before working up the courage to knock on the front door....no answer. He gently tried the knob, and finding it unlocked, swung it open. The scene that unfolded in front of him was enough to break his heart. The air inside was warm and heavy with the scent of garlic. The table had been set for a pasta dinner for two, complete with a nice tablecloth and candles which had been lit at one point but now stood extinguished.
Finney sat slumped down in one of the chairs, looking quite forlorn, not even acknowledging Robin's presence at first. He was looking in his direction, but it was almost like he was looking through him. Robin slowly closed the door behind him and approached his boyfriend. "Finn, I'm so s-"
"Where were you?" Finney asked, his voice quiet. "You said you would be here at five."
"I know....I know I said that. But some of the guys from art went to the arcade, and I just lost track of time, and before I knew it, it was almost seven," Robin said, hating that his explanation sounded so lame, wishing that he had some sort of better excuse. But he had fucked up enough already, he definitely wasn't going to make it worse by lying. "I have no excuse for my actions, Finn. I'm so, so sorry though."
Robin stood there nervously as Finney finally made eye contact. For a moment, the younger boy's face flashed intense anger and Robin waited for the well deserved outburst...but it never came. As quickly as it appeared, the anger vanished and Finney deflated all over again. "Th-that's okay, Robin, don't worry about it," he said, standing up to make his way back into the kitchen. "It was just a dumb dinner, it's fine. I'll just reheat it or something."
But that wasn't going to sit right with Robin. He had noticed this thing becoming a pattern, and it was time to address it. "You have to stop doing this, Finney."
Finney turned back around, fear on his face. "Doing what? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, just tell me what I was -"
"That, right there," Robin cut in. "You can't keep apologizing when you haven't done anything wrong. I'm the one that fucked up today. I should be apologizing, and you should be angry. It's like you never get mad at me no matter what I do!"
"Robbie it's fine, really, just...drop it. I don't want to make any trouble."
"But you deserve to!" Robin insisted, approaching Finney and taking his hand. "And this attitude that you have like...like you're so lucky to be with me, and you're afraid to be anything other than perfect and understanding is bullshit. I'm the lucky one Finn...to have you. And I don't want you feeling that you don't deserve me, or that you're going to lose me if you stick up for yourself a little bit. If this thing between us is really going to work, we have to be honest with each other, not keep our feelings bottled up, okay?"
"...yeah?" Finney asked, still obviously unsure.
"Yeah, definitely," Robin confirmed, leading them both back to the table and sitting down. "Starting now. Go ahead and let me have it."
The shorter boy stared across the table, looking thoughtful as he started out. "Well...it just sucks you know, because you always buy me things, or take me out to nice dinners, but I can't afford to do that kind of stuff for you."
Robin just nodded, waiting for Finney to continue.
"And so I had this idea that instead of buying something fancy, I could plan a nice dinner for us right here. It wouldn't cost too much, and I could prepare everything myself," he said, his face growing more and more resolved as his voice grew louder. "And I spent a lot of time planning this Robin. Buying ingredients, gathering recipes, finding a night when we could have the house to ourselves. And then what did you do!? After I reminded you THREE fucking times today that this was important to me!? You left me sitting here for hours, wondering where you were, wavering between worry and anger!"
It was at this point that doubt began to creep into Robin's mind about whether he should've unlocked this particular door, as Finney got back to his feet and began pacing. "And for what? What was so vital that you decided to blow this off? Oh! The guys wanted to go to the arcade! Perfect! Because that couldn't be done any other day." The small boy was basically yelling at this point as he turned to lock eyes with Robin. "I try...so hard Rob. To be the ideal boyfriend for you...and the one time I wanted something, you didn't deem it important enough to even remember. That was a real jerk move, you know! How could you be so selfish!? Can't you think about someone else's feelings!?"
Whatever zone Finney was in, that seemed to snap him out of it as his face softened once again and the anxiousness returned. "Shit, Robin, I didn't mean that. I'm s-"
"Don't you dare apologize Finney Blake," Robin replied, cutting him off. "I deserved every bit of that and more."
The brunette-haired teen rose up from his seat, approaching the other boy and spreading his arms wide. "I'm the one that's sorry, okay? It was a shitty thing to do, even on accident. I should've been paying more attention since you said it was important to you. Will you forgive me?"
"Of course I forgive you," Finney answered, tumbling into Robin's embrace. They just stood there for a minute, and the older boy could feel the anger and tension seeping out of Finney with each passing moment.
"Thank you," Robin said, rubbing circles into his boyfriend's back. "You feel better now that you got all of that out?"
"You know what? Yeah...I actually do," Finney admitted, pulling back a little to look up at Robin's face.
"Good. And you know, there's actually one other thing that's good about fighting," Robin grinned playfully.
"Oh? What's that?" Finney asked, a smile finally beginning to peek through on his own face.
"Making up of course," Robin answered. "And since I'm the one that fucked up royally, I'm giving you one request of me, no questions asked. I'll do whatever you want me to do, no strings attached."
"Whatever I want?" Finney asked, a faint blush showing up on his face.
The older boy put on a show of thinking about it. "You said your dad wasn't coming back 'til late, right?" Finney nodded in response. "Then yeah," Robin said, leaning in and whispering seductively into Finney's ear, "whatever you want." Robin smirked as he felt Finney shiver underneath him.
The smaller boy broke away and bit his lip shyly. "Well, I do have one thing in mind," he said, taking Robin and leading him by the hand. The raven-haired teen felt his pulse pick up, sure that Finney was going to lead them to his bedroom for some...exciting activities. But instead he found himself standing in front of the sink. A sink that was piled high with dirty pots and pans of all sorts, all of which were caked with grease and grime.
"Yeah, so, I actually created quite the mess making this meal, so if you could go ahead and clean these for me, that'd be great," Finney said, the innocent look on his face betrayed by only the hint of a smile.
"O-oh...I, um, I thought that we were- " Robin spluttered.
"You did say anything I wanted, right?" Finney asked, arching his eyebrow playfully.
"I did," Robin sighed in resignation, rolling up his sleeves.
"Great! Man, you were right, this making up thing really does have its perks," Finney said impishly, rising up on his tiptoes to give Robin a peck on the cheek before scampering off down the hall.
Well...this was just great. Not only did he have to scrub all these dishes, but Finney was apparently not even going to stay and keep him company. But, Robin knew he had no one to blame but himself, so he turned on the faucet and began to fill the sink with soapy hot water.
About ten minutes later, as he was slowly working his way through the chore, he heard Finney's voice behind him. "Hey Rob, I'm actually going to need you to do one more thing for me after you're done with that."
"Hey! The deal was for one thing, Blake!" Robin said, chuckling as he turned around. "But okay, I suppose I could. What is it that you want me to -"
The rest of Robin's sentence fell flat, as he saw Finney standing behind him, wearing nothing but briefs and socks. His mind started to short circuit as he took in his boyfriend's toned body. His mouth opened and closed several times, but he couldn't get any words to formulate, so Finney took it upon himself to answer Robin's unfinished question.
"Well, after you're done with those dishes, why don't you come to my room and I'll show you?" he suggested pointedly. All Robin could do was gulp and nod in response as Finney smirked and turned around and walked very slowly away.
Robin felt a bit light-headed as he stood there trying to contemplate what had just happened.
"Hurry Robbie, I'm waiting," Finney's voice drifted out down the hall, breaking Robin from his stupor and sending him into action.
As Robin stood there furiously scrubbing, cleaning the remaining pots in record time, he wondered what kind of dormant beast he had just awakened in Finney. But he did know one thing - he couldn't wait to find out.