▊狐 “I see, I see.” She nods sagely. “So there is someone! Could it perhaps be a princely man of blond? A red streak in his hair? Ah, yes, yes. That Servant isn’t affiliated with Chaldea but you’ve certainly been seen with them a lot, haven’t you? Unless all of these pictures are fabricated.” She’s flipping through something on her phone now, but she’s not going to let him see. “What a big invasion of privacy this is! Casko is shocked! SHOCKU! What villain could possibly have snapped up all of these pics?”

     H-HAWAH?! And how?

▊狐 “And you’re not giving anything out? Mr. Take From The Rich and Give To The Poor? Did you know there’s a D*sney animated movie about you where you’re a fox? Are we distant relatives? Could Robin Hood be my long lost brother? Find out next week on Casko’s Corner!”

Doesn’t remember, huh. That’s fine. It means that little secret would be his forever. He’d come to tell Robin one day, yes, but for now he’d only smirk devilishly and shoo that topic away. Memories are important, whether they remember it in full or not. The fact they’ve lived through them is enough. That’s why… – “Hm? Now, do my ears deceive me or has Robin Hood just asked me to behave? Bold, I didn’t think you’d had it in you.” He jokes openly, albeit surprised at the words. “Many people have tried that before. Getting me to behave, that is. Which means, who knows? It is pretty hard to contain my hands when you look like this. Should I close my eyes, perhaps?”

A partial joke, because it’s true such a sight is rare. Richard is a man focused on the now, on what he wants to do, and what lengths he would go to obtain it. It just so happens what he wishes for at the moment is…

That blissful contact of skin is taken away shortly. Behave. Right, he’d do his utmost best. But that was never quite helpful. “Of course I wouldn’t bring you to a place where we couldn’t have privacy, but seems like I have been replaced by expensive alcohol. First I am ordered around, then I’m completely discarded. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, but I’m hurt. Are you sure about this?”

     When the hand’s retracted, there’s obvious disappointment in Robin’s face. Soft, drunken disappointment at Richard’s statements and a little pout that usually never saw the light of day. He was an easily flustered guy and a flirt, but not one to do something so... unexpectedly innocent and maybe even a little manipulative. How much had they had to drink back in the warm comfort of the onsen? 

     He reached back to sloppily brush matching rings against each other in a search for the tender touch that’d been taken away, most of his back still pressed against the noble. All right. The positioning was pretty awkward, but they’d continue to make do somehow. It was the least of his intoxicated concerns right now.

“What, are you gonna keep looking for other doubles? That’s so nice of you, Robin!” Hint missed. Still, Astolfo will be Astolfo; he can’t leave a friend in the lurch. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll come, too!”

“I feel bad for them… They’re probably scared, right? And they might hurt someone without meaning to! It’d be bad if we left everyone to fend for themselves.”

   Hint missed... -- but not entirely wrong. Well, that’s about what he expected. Robin ruffles the back of his head with mild frustration over their brief exchange nonetheless. These paladins, man. And now pinky here was stuck on him like a burr. 

There’s truly a lot of things to appreciate about the Japanese. Their music, their art, but then it extends to their culture, too, when from time to time Richard visits the Cotes Ward and learns what he could about it. The traditional hotel he had found for both offered quite a bit of curious entertainment ( the hot bath is spectacular ), but when Robin is done helping him with his own yukata, he couldn’t help but make a mental note to be thankful for those, too. Maybe the next time he saw Ayaka he’d vaguely thank her for it. 

He may not drink nearly as much as his lover ( he is a royal, after all, somethings he does in moderation ), but some things he’d only do in this state.

Like slide a hand inside his yukata, the warmth of Robin’s skin against his fingers and pulls him ever so close with a hand wrapped around his waist and another… gently settled on his chest. So tempting, and so erotic at the same time. He’s thankful, too, that the boy covers up so often. This sight should be for his king alone. “What an upgrade from last year, hm?” So toxic, that smirk and the intensity behind those eyes, and Richard couldn’t help but steal a sip of the thief’s drink – and share part of it with a kiss. “Really, I’m sure neither of us would ever imagine this is how we’d end up. Especially not in a hotel this nice, either. Maybe we should come here more often. I certainly wouldn’t be opposed, would you?”

     Fit the sleeve, extend the arm -- step after step. Even as intoxicated as he was, Robin attempted to continue with his nagging style that took over even the smallest thing, hands fussing with their transition from towel to dress. The yukata designs were simple and pleasing, and no one really looked out of place in the sturdy fabric that made up its design: not even the two Englishmen who’d come here to ride out the rest of the year with just each others immediate company.  

    It looked -- great, really. Loose and lightly fitted against the skin.

     And when fingers slipped warm and pressed wantingly at his skin, Robin fidgeted and bit lightly at his lower lip. Here, now? Or later? He moved a hand to touch the fold of Richard’s gently, and... -- ah. Thank god it was within the confines of their own rented room. Robin returned the tilted kiss albeit a little sloppily, his heart scrambling to keep up. He was pretty damn easy to lead along like this, wasn’t he?

Truth be told, even someone like Richard the Lionheart gets nervous at times like these. There’s something about the locale, and the holidays, and the fact he was loved and cherished that influenced his heart to beat and beat faster and faster and he had to go and breathe all that air out. Compared to the prior year, his gift is much more humble. Something small, and unique, and the king is gentle when he wraps the necklace around Robin’s neck. The real gift lies right at the end of it, a special ring crafted for them. It’s embed with magecraft as well, its red glint giving it away.

“Part of me wanted to put it on your finger, and ask your hand in marriage,” Richard snickers, low and personal almost, as if he had just recited a child’s impossible dream. “If it were under other circumstances, maybe I would have. But it’s my fault your old necklace broke, and I wanted to replace it with something new. It didn’t look right, seeing you without it.” 

“Oh, it’s no ordinary ring, of course. I don’t really know anything about magecraft, but someone I know was kind enough to help in its making. Well, to put it simply, it’s connected to me. Or my life, I suppose. If I get hurt, you should feel a sting from it. It gets worse the more hurt I am. It’s not limited to physical harm either.” By now, albeit rare, there’s an awkwardness to his words, and his posture. The idea had only come to him because of what had happened just weeks prior. “Oh, and of course, I made myself a matching one. Here.” He closes Robin’s fingers around the ring, left on his palm. “I want you to put it on me. I suppose any finger would do, but… to be fair, I was thinking of wearing it on my ring finger. Not because we are married, but because I want people to look at it and know I have someone I love.” 

      Ah, there it was. The marriage jokes from a noble who’d surely spent a good chunk of his life being proposed to in a variety of ways despite obligation. Still, there was a warmth to his cheeks that wasn’t born of the cold, and Robin exhaled soft puffs into the cold evening air. He’d almost forgotten about that silly trinket, the one with no interesting story to tell. 

    “Sure you'd wanna marry a guy like me? I’m not exactly what you’d call marriage material. No land to call my own, no prospective business. Just some sellsword without a real name... and a handsome face, but... ”

      A ring that’d alert him to any change, huh? How intimate, and thoughtful, and Robin Hood scrambled for things to say that weren’t just him trying to brush off how much he really appreciated it in all his shyness. How much he wanted to know each and every detail and tuck a ringed finger behind a lock of Richard’s hair. 

      Augh. He couldn’t tuck that stupid smile of his away. Richard the Lionheart had a real way of sweeping you off your feet in all that steadfast persistence and obsession. Even now, Robin could still understand why another faceless had so readily consented to being part of his spiritual arsenal. 

     He closed around the ring, and his other around Richard’s hand. “Seriously, you... -- even if my hand ends up all ugly and swollen at some point, you know I’m gonna hold onto this for dear life, right?”

>>> days later...

    It’d taken ages to open this gift.

    Because obviously, the first thing he’d done when he discovered the decorative monstrosity on top of his bed, was.... shut the door and leave.

   Why? Why today? Let me be for one single holiday, you slave driver!

Not in a hundred years did Richard think such a thing would reach his ears, at the tone of Robin’s voice and with the intensity of every word. To his best efforts, his eyes remain closed - for Robin’s comfort, now, because he could only ever imagine how much courage he needed to pull that one off -, and all the words seemed to reach him with far more feeling like this. It’s not a song he has heard before, because it’s something that comes from the heart. Custom-made. A song written by his lover, about their love. It’s unique in every shape or form.

By the time the song is over and Richard allows himself to open his eyes, there’s an inevitable flush to his face. Even the Lionheart couldn’t escape the embarrassment, mild and genuine as it is. “Now now, when did you become such a singer? Did you lie to me all those months back, or have you decided to pursuit an artistic career for me?” More jokes, of course, but there’s an underlying appreciation to whatever drove Robin to such a thing. It’s clear it’s way outside his field of expertise, but he had done such a thing for him, and Richard couldn’t be more grateful. “I love it. You didn’t have to go that far, but you did. And now I hope you have this written down somewhere, because you know I’ll want to remember this forever, right?” This one is hardly a joke. He’s truly serious! “– Ah, but for now, it’s your turn to close your eyes. You didn’t think I wouldn’t get you something now, did you?”

     Ugh, that adorable smile. Great. Perfect. Nevermind. Everything up until this point was worth it. He’d freeze-framed that look in his mind and hopefully it lasted for a good long while. Thank you, Christmas. Thank you, baby Jesus.

“Hm? So you’re not going to confess your feelings for me again? Color me surprised.” A jest, of course, a little tease, because last time had been about time, he remembers. It little helps when they’re settled so well under the glowing tree, illuminating their surroundings and their faces so easily. There’s suddenly a certain air around them, and despite all, it’d be a lie to say there wasn’t excitement about it. Expectation. Almost as though he had suddenly become a young maiden before her first and self-claimed only true love.

It’s a good opportunity, in fact. Richard might had been waiting until they were home again - privacy for such a thing had been his choice -, but the setting called for it. “Very well. Should I close my eyes as well? It should feel like a real surprise like this, I believe.” He does it anyways, in the end. Mostly for himself, but if that would end up easing things up for Robin, then it’s only a bonus.

   Robin flushed at the joke, like a goddamn idiot. Ugh. No, he wasn’t going to recite his confession all over again. In truth, what he was about to do... might even be more mortifying than that. But he’d been pondering over it for a few weeks now -- pen to paper and hand to heart. Now all he had to do was pull it off.

   He took a deep breath in pause, actually grateful for the fact that he’d closed his eyes. Not in a hundred years did he ever think he’d be motivated enough to do something like this, but...

     Oh, yeah. Cool, cool. But actually, more like… – too cute to admit out loud. Definitely something that matched the kid’s style. Robin was mostly concerned with the fact that she’d brought come here of her own accord, though. Not that he would speak up about it or make it a big thing, but the thought alone was a precious hidden trinket.

And of course, to every person who didn’t fit in the celebrations and holidays and Christmas spirit, there’s one who does for two - or ten, in Richard’s case. Yes, gathering together your family to celebrate the birth of Jesus or whatever it was had been quite the time for him once, but the modern age had turned it into something much more enjoyable.

“Let eeeevery heart prepare him roooom,” mostly for the carols, and the much more likely and enjoyable songs than those that he had once heard in his time. He could stand there cheerfully singing them all night long! But for now, he’d only make sure anyone who passed their little crowd by could hear this voice amidst his companion’s, “and heaven and nature siiiiing, and heaven and nature siiiing. And heaveen, and heaven and nature sing!”

   Ah, there it was. Something even more embarrassing. A something embarrassing that battered against his heart until he gave in and was the sole reason for Robin’s agreed involvement. Still, if Richard was having fun ( and oh, he was  ), then it was fine. When the thief smirked away the frost and the chill and watched the king revel in the verses, there was love in it. 

   Still, this was just... a warm-up.

   Be still, you stupid beating heart.