Chapter 8: Allt í lagi í Latabæ

He stayed like that for a long time, his shoulders heaving with every hitched breath. Robbie, at some point, had moved his arm and was half embracing the mourning sports elf. He stayed silent, so the only sound was the kitten's purrs and his own small gasps for air and low, keening crying noises.

"Why?" he whimpered finally, rubbing his eyes furiously. "Why does it have to be like this?"

Robbie took his time answering.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "It just is. There's not really a reason. Why am I alone? Why do you lie to yourself?"

"People need to be happy," Sportacus answered quietly, his crying slowly ceasing. He didn't move from his spot against Robbie, and Robbie didn't push him away. He noticed that the man smelled vaguely like damp earth, and a sort of wood and dust scent, like an ancient stand of trees. He wondered why he only noticed the smell now, even after having lived with him for over a week.

"They need a hero." he continued. Robbie snorted quietly.

"Stupid," was the comment. "I don't need a hero." Sportacus smiled slightly and moved back.

"Who's going to rescue you when you get stuck in trees?"

"Are you comparing me to the cat?"

"I never said that," Sportacus replied slyly. "Besides, I already know what you want, if not a hero."

"Oh?"

"A friend."

"Wrong again. You're about as astute as a doorknob."

"Then what? Tell me then, if I'm so stupid."

There was a long moment of silence, where the kitten jumped nimbly off of Robbie's lap, completely recovered, and rubbed against their legs for awhile before tottering off. Robbie was staring at his hands, as if now that the kitten was gone, he didn't know what to do.

"I…" Robbie started, hesitantly. He whispered. "I am lonely. I mean, I admitted that a long time ago."

"Then, what, if not friends?"

When Robbie's eyes met his, he had a flash of understanding.

"Oh," he said quietly. He knew he should be feeling something at this point… but he felt drained, emotionally. He couldn't summon up a response.

Thoughts drifted through his head. Things about being a hero, and being the personification of good. He wanted to meet that standard. But Robbie had pointed out the fatal flaw in that: he lied. Even if it was for the good of other people, he lied, and heroes never lied. When you first take that step into the gray area, you can't step back.

Randomly, Sportacus realized Robbie's eyes were gray, and found the analogy ironic.

"What are you smiling at?" Robbie asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," Sportacus answered. "I just noticed your eyes. They're the same color as storm clouds."

Robbie frowned a little at this, and brought one hand up to his face, self-conscious.

"Hmm," came the reply. "Yeah, well… your eyes are too damn blue. It almost hurts to look at them."

"It does?" He wished he had a mirror, suddenly.

"Yes. They switch meaning. During the summer they're the color of glacial lakes. During the winter it's a summer sky. Freakiest eyes I've ever seen."

Sportacus grinned.

"I'd tease you about being a poet, but I know better."

"Hmph. Good. I despise poetry."

There was another pause, and the spring air was filled with sounds of birds chirping and snow melting, instead of their voices. It had a feeling of awakening, and Sportacus wondered if maybe this was the reason the breakdown had happened now. Season of new beginnings and new growth, after all.

"Hey," he said quietly, interrupting the silence. Robbie didn't look at him, but he knew he was listening. "What happens now?"

Robbie shrugged dramatically.

"We start over, I suppose."

"Start over…" Sportacus mused. He perked up. "Like a game?" Robbie groaned, and Sportacus responded to this by laughing heartily.

"Even if I'm broken, Robbie Rotten," he said teasingly. "I'll still love what I love." Robbie looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"But you'll still try and get me to stop eating cake," he replied sourly. "I see how it is with you."

"You can still eat cake," Sportacus said, tapping a finger to his chin in thought. "Just less of it maybe… and not all the time…" Robbie groaned again and threw himself back onto the bench, limbs splayed out dramatically. Sportacus grinned at him.

"I like this," the sports elf continued. "I thought I wouldn't. But it… feels better, now. Don't you think?" Robbie sighed.

"It's either a relief from having to not lie to yourself anymore," he grumbled. "Or you've gone into shock and your brain is only telling you you're happy."

"What about you?"

Robbie blinked, looking up at the sky. From this angle, all you could see was bright blue sky. His stomach flipped, reminded so of the sports elf's eyes.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "I think it's the second option."

"Shock? From what?"

Robbie remained silent for awhile, his head tilted back as he kept looking up at the sky.

"From not having to be broken alone, I guess. It's never happened before."

Sportacus watched Robbie stare at the sky, wondering at how peaceful Robbie looked at that moment.

"This is hard," he muttered. "If I'm not a hero, does this mean you're not a villain either?"

"You'll recall that I never referred to myself as such," Robbie interrupted.

"Ah… true…" He sighed and started tapping his foot slightly. "This is still hard though. I don't know who I am, if I'm not a hero." Robbie rolled his eyes.

"It's not that you're not a hero, you stupid elf," he explained. "I doubt you could stop saving people if you had to. For whatever reason, you just do that."

"Like you nap?"

"I have reasons for napping. But you… never mind. Look, the point is, you're not just the hero. You're other things too. Get it?"

"I think so…" Sportacus mused, and started tapping his chin again thoughtfully. "But… still, I never really thought about it before. Being anything other than a hero, I mean. How do I know who I am, then?"

Robbie shrugged.

"That's up to you, I guess. Change how you like." And here he waved one hand in a flippant manner, as if to say he really didn't care. Sportacus thought for a few more moments.

"Do… do you know who you are Robbie?"

Robbie blinked at the expanse of blue above him. The back of the bench was digging into his neck as he rested against it, but he ignored the feeling. Did he know who he was? That was a very good question.

"I know more than you do," he finally replied. Sportacus rolled his eyes.

"Like what?"

Robbie sat up.

"I know what I like," he shot back. Sportacus made a face at the man.

"I know what I like too!" he defended. Robbie snorted.

"If you knew what you liked, you wouldn't have started crying in the first place!"

"Well… well… maybe I just like more things too!"

Robbie glanced at him, seeing the blue elf pout stubbornly with his arms folded across his chest. He felt the corner of his mouth twitching, warning of a smile.

"If it's more sports, it doesn't count," he pointed out. Sportacus got visibly offended and puffed out his chest in an imposing manner. Like it needed to be puffed out any more, Robbie thought.

"It's not sports!" Sportacus defended. "It's… other things." He trailed off uncertainly, some of his determination leaking away. Robbie looked at him curiously.

"Other things, huh?" Robbie inquired. "Care to give examples?"

He felt that strange flutter in his chest again when he caught splashes of red appear on the elf's face. He resisted the urge to keel over dramatically, and instead merely sat still with a racing heart.

"Well…" Sportacus started hesitantly. "Um… kissing…"

Robbie curled his hands into fists and kept a tight control on his voice.

"Interesting," he commented. Sportacus was looking at some birds nearby hop around and peck at the thawing ground. "Just how often have you done that, then?" Sportacus got redder.

"Twice," he muttered. Robbie felt a shock of electricity go through him, and it was suddenly awkward again.

"Oh." There was an entire minute of silence before he spoke up again, his voice cracking a little despite himself.

"If you've only done it twice, how do you know you like it?"

Sportacus' eyes got wide as he processed the implications of that statement.

"I don't know..." he admitted. Robbie laughed shortly, but even Sportacus could tell it was strained. Robbie was visibly trembling. Sportacus swallowed nervously and leaned closer. A warning was sounding in his head, something ingrained that was telling him he was giving in to the dark side by even thinking about this. He hesitated, and reevaluated his approach.

If it would bring Robbie closer to the light, wasn't it worth it? The warning quieted, thrown off by that logic, and Sportacus relaxed again, leaning forward again and very quickly pressing his lips to the side of Robbie's face and then leaning back again and waiting for a response.

Robbie appeared to have momentarily stopped breathing, and blood was rushing to his face.

"There," the sports elf said finally, his voice rather small. "Now it's three times." Robbie seemed to shake off his temporary shock, and huffed.

"That was barely a kiss," he pointed out haughtily. Sportacus looked at him suspiciously.

"It was so," he argued. "I used my lips. That makes it a kiss!"

"It's only a proper kiss like this, sports elf."

And Robbie abruptly snatched a handful of his shirt and pulled him forward, pressing their lips together and kissing him soundly. Sportacus shivered all the way down to his toes, kissing back shyly at first but with increasing confidence. Eventually, Robbie broke the kiss, but didn't move away.

"There," he breathed heavily, catching his breath. "That was the third time."

"How am I supposed to know if I like kissing if you're always the one starting it?..." Sportacus mused quietly, and before Robbie had a chance, closed the small distance between their mouths again.

AN:

End.

See, it ends happily! I told you it would. Sorry about not getting this out earlier. I um... kind of managed to create two characters on The Sims 2 that look remarkably like Sportacus and Robbie.

... yeah, they were in bed together by the end of two days. IT'S NOT MY FAULT ... I took pictures.

After this fic, I'm thinking about posting the sequel to PBBS. You guys can read a little about it on my LJ (the link to which is on my profile). But I still need to go through and tweak a few things. It's not a literary masterpiece, sadly. It's far lacking in quality when compared to the original, and I'm trying to get it to shorten the gap. Difficult. But I'm trying.

Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews guys!