#brenna writes

Sitting in your livingroom, you brought the glass of whiskey to your ruby lips and took a delicate sip. Your cheeks were flushed and there was a slight far-away look in your eyes. 

"Look, all I'm saying is that we both have needs, right?" You placed a warm hand on his knee and gave him a wide smile. "I think we can help each other with those needs." 

You were so beautiful, your eyes sparkled in the low light from the lamp in the corner and he wasn’t complaining about the view of your thigh as the hem of your dress rode up when you crossed your legs. He chuckled at your words and took a sip from his own glass feeling all of the burn but none of its effects. You shifted towards him, pulling his glass from his hands and set both yours and his on your coffee table. 

“How does that sound?” you whispered against the shell of his ear as you ran your hand over his chest. He turned his head to look at you and your lips were on his in an instant, your tongue ran along his bottom lip and he lost himself in the feeling of your body on his.

Bucky shook his head to clear his mind of the memory and took another swig from the bottle. The pattern continued, he’d drink and a memory would resurface. After the tenth drink he was beginning to feel a buzz through his body, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He paused with his thumb hovering over your name trying to fight the desire to hear your voice. Giving in, he pressed your contact on his phone and held it up to his ear, hoping you’ll answer. 

“Hello?” you were slightly breathless as you answered the phone and he could almost imagine you whispering in his ear again. Light music and the faint sound of laughter filtered through the phone and his heart jumped into this throat. 

“Hello,” you asked again with a tone of annoyance. “Bucky, I know you’re there, what do you want?”

He sighed and cleared his throat. “I heard a song today that reminded me of you.” It was a lie but he needed to say something before you hung up on him.

The background noise from your end died away and he could imagine you stepping into another room. The image of you silently closing a bedroom door to talk brought a smile to his face that quickly disappeared at your next words.

“Bucky you can’t be doing this,” your voice softened as you spoke. “I broke this… arrangement off for a reason, please don’t do this to me.” There was a waver in your voice and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest.

Bucky nodded staring into the honey coloured liquid. “I know, I just- I miss you. I’m sorry for everything I said before, I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t know what I wanted. Can we just go back to the way things were?” There was a pause and he held in breath waiting for your response.  

“I don't think we can, I told you when we started that I didn't want a relationship, that what we had was purely physical. I can't go on with this knowing you feel more than I do, I'm sorry."

He shook his head in an attempt to clear the fog that prevented him from forming a complete thought. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“I can’t keep doing this with you Bucky!” Your voice turned icy and Bucky winced at the sound, he could hear the anger and annoyance in your voice. He never wanted to make you feel like this. When it came to you he only wanted to make you feel good. “I can't give you what you want." 

“I know, can we just- can we just talk about this?” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Please?” 

“I can’t right now, call me tomorrow when you’ve sobered up.” He could hear the sounds of conversations come through the phone as you joined the party again. “Goodbye Bucky,” you hung up before he could say anything else and he threw the phone against the wall shattering it completely.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and downed the rest of the bottle in hopes that he would finally be able to sleep without the images of you drifting through his dreams.

Thanks to the serum, Bucky woke up the next day without a hangover, but the events before he fell asleep were a bit fuzzy and it took him a second to remember. Did he call someone last night? He picked up his phone from the floor at the other side of his room and groaned at the shattered screen. Whoever he spoke to it wasn't a happy conversation.

That afternoon he made his way into the city to get a replacement phone. Tony had offered many times to set him up with the newest gadgets he could make but Bucky refused every time, he was happy with just a simple phone to make calls with and nothing else, he still didn’t understand the meaning of social media. The whole errand took less than an hour so he decided to walk the streets and spend some time in the fresh air. He was definitely missing it after spending so much of his week in the stale air of his room.

Bucky found himself walking the paths of Central Park and a familiar laugh sounded a few feet away on the other side of a cluster of trees, he could feel his heart pound in his chest as he inched closer trying to catch a glimpse of you. He slowly stepped around the trees and stopped when he saw you. 

As soon as he saw you the conversation from last night came rushing back and the broken phone now made sense. He stood there rooted to the spot admiring the way your hair shone in the afternoon sunlight. You sat on a picnic blanket with your back to him beside a woman he didn't recognize and his heart clenched when she said something to you and you threw your head back in laughter. You reached up and brushed her hair over her shoulder and whispered something in her ear.

He was sitting on your couch with his pants down around his ankles, you had your dress hiked up around your waist and your eyes closed in pure pleasure as you rode him. He teased one of your nipples through the fabric of your dress and let out a sinful moan at his touch.

Bucky gripped your hips as you moved, you opened your eyes and fixed him with a sultry smile just as his orgasm rolled through him. Your own orgasm came shortly after and you stayed there with him still inside you. Both of you breathing heavily as you came down from your high, you slowly reached up and brushed a lock of brown hair away from his face and leaned forward so that your lips were right above his ear. 

"I love how you feel inside me." You smiled at the shiver that rippled through him as you pressed small kisses to the side of his neck. 

Caught up in the euphoria of his orgasm and the feeling of your body against his, he spoke the first words that popped into his head. "I love you." 

Bucky tore himself out of the memory that seized his mind at the sight of you. He was already filled regret over losing you, he didn't need to be reminded of the exact moment when that happened. Those three small words ruined everything between you and him and if he had just kept his damn mouth shut that would've been him sitting beside you enjoying the sunlight.

Chapter Two: 

Zaterdag 22:35

Zonday 13:14

Maandag 10:52

Dinsdag 12:39/12:46

Woensdag 18:49/19:53/20:58

Donderdag 12:16

Vrijdag 8:23

Chapter Three:

Zaterdag 15:52

Zondag 18:25

Maandag 19:21

Dinsdag 17:38

Woensdag 21:51

Woensdag 22:39/23:43

Donderdag 17:04

Vrijdag 22:32/22:52

Chapter Four:

Zaterdag 9:31

Zondag 10:21

Zondag 19:21

Maandag 15:10/15:23

Dinsdag 20:41

Woensdag 16:36/17:03/18:23

Donderdag 18:45

Vrijdag 12:12

Chapter Five: 

Zaterdag 8:27

Zondag 18:53/20:34

Maandag 18:16/21:32

Dinsdag 19:12/19:25/20:04/22:34

Woensdag 21:45/21:49

Donderdag 22:39/22:51

Vrijdag 12:21/12:24

Chapter Six:

Zaterdag 11:29/12:01

Zondag 9:24

Maandag 14:51/17:42/21:22

Dinsdag 17:43

Woensdag 19:03

Donderdag 19:52

Vrijdag 12:42

Vrijdag 21:21

Chapter Seven:

Zaterdag 4:27/10:23

Zaterdag 10:29/Zondag 13:38

Maandag 11:52/Dinsdag 17:45

Woensdag 15:49/16:21

Donderdag 18:03/18:28 & Vrijdag 18:39

Chapter Eight:

Zaterdag 22:27

Zondag 13:26

Maandag 14:11/Dinsdag 19:25

Woensdag 12:39/17:36/17:49

Donderdag 18:28/Vrijdag 22:41

Epilogue: The End

Preview #1

Preview #2

Preview #3

Glancing down at the overfilled plate, Sander eyed him skeptically. “Did you make breakfast?”

“No,” Robbe said bluntly, handing Sander the forks. “You don’t have to worry about it being accidentally poisoned.” Taking the silverware from him, Sander snorted. Loudly. Robbe sunk on the bed beside him and balanced the plate on his knee. “Jonathan, Milan’s boyfriend, is a master chef. If he’s here, he’s cooking and that’s mostly because he takes over the kitchen. His scrambled eggs are to die for and he said to try the potatoes.” 

Ah,” Sander said. “I’ll have to thank him then.” 

“Yes, you should.” 

In one long heartbeat, Sander leaned forward. Robbe tilted his head up to meet his lips in a kiss and Sander stopped a hairline before their lips met fully. At Robbe’s whine, Sander’s lips twisted into a knowing smirk and Robbe couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his lips. “Thank you for getting food,” Sander said, his lips brushing against Robbe’s. 

“You’re welcome,” Robbe said. 

“I should thank you properly.”

“Hmm… how are you going to do that?” 

“Let me show you.”

Tugging him closer by the back of his neck, Sander brought Robbe close to him, dragging their lips together smoothly and certainly. Robbe’s head was spinning, trying to pull Sander closer and keep the plate level, as Sander kissed him deeply, his hand moving to cradle his face. Sander separated their lips before placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Robbe tried to turn his head, to join their lips again, but before he could, Sander’s grip tightened on his jaw, keeping him still.

“Sander,” Robbe said, half a warning. Sander agonizingly trailed down Robbe’s jaw, placing kisses on every inch of skin he encountered. Once he had covered Robbe’s jaw with gentle kisses, his lips dragged down his neck. Every other kiss, Sander would bite down on his neck before swiping his tongue across it as though he was trying to soothe Robbe’s skin. Robbe swallowed, focused on keeping the plate steady or else it would topple over on the bed, resulting in a gigantic mess. 

Suddenly, Sander stopped, halting against his skin. Pressing his nose into the crook of Robbe’s neck, Sander sucked in a breath. The nervousness radiated off of Sander in waves, his hand falling from his jaw. Robbe turned to press a kiss against Sander’s temple and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. After a few seconds of nervous silence, Sander spoke up, his lips gliding across Robbe’s neck, “When I woke up and saw you were gone, I thought that you left me.” 

Even with Sander tucked into his side, his face buried and hidden, Robbe recognized the insecurity in his voice. It was so similar to his late-night “Are you going to leave me?” The tremor in his voice and the insecurity in it made Robbe want to wrap him in a hug until he didn’t think that anymore—to kiss him until Sander felt better. But, Robbe knew insecurity like an old friend—how it always tended to pop back up without really meaning to, how it never seemed to go away when you wanted it to.

Robbe placed the plate onto the bed, making sure that it was seated where it wouldn’t topple over. Once he did, Robbe scooted closer to him, as close as he could, and draped his legs across Sander’s lap. Sander let him, wrapping his arms around Robbe’s waist, gripping him tightly. Robbe ran his hands through Sander’s hair, tugging onto the strands until he looked up with nervous green eyes. Once they were face-to-face, close enough that Robbe could’ve leaned forward to kiss him if he wanted to, he whispered, “Never.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, an emotional look flashed over Sander’s face and his eyes glassed over again. It was like he couldn’t believe that Robbe would say such a thing—and Robbe knew the weight of his declaration. Before the beach trip, he didn’t want to let Sander go, and now, after a week of uncertainty and being apart, the feeling had only increased. Robbe never wanted to be separate from him again. 

Leaning forward, Robbe closed the gap, kissing him gently. Digging his fingers against Robbe’s scalp, Sander urged the kiss on and he dragged his tongue across Robbe’s bottom lip. His mouth fell open in response and Sander wasted no time licking into his mouth. One of his hands dropped to Robbe’s waist and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, tracing patterns along his skin. Robbe clung tightly to the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and Sander let out a sigh. 

As they separated, Robbe caught Sander’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. Sander laughed, nuzzling their noses together before pulling back. Staring at him with a peaceful look on his face, Sander looked wrecked with bright red lips and flushed cheeks. Robbe had a feeling that he didn’t look much better. He was now entirely in Sander’s lap, his legs wrapped securely around his waist, and the food forgotten on the bed. 

Playing with the collar of his shirt, Robbe confessed for only Sander to hear, I would never leave you.” Sander grinned, happy and beautiful, as he looked at Robbe with that intense look in his eyes—the one that made Robbe feel so seen and secure in front of him. “Besides,” Robbe added, his tone light. “It’s my bedroom.”

Sander laughed, shaking his head, but his eyes were bright and his grin was wide. “Silly me,” Sander said, leaning closer to him. 

“Silly you,” Robbe breathed out before Sander’s lips were back against his own. 

This kiss was slow, almost overwhelmingly slow, and Robbe pulled him closer, held him tighter. Sander’s hands on his waist gripped a little tighter and held him against his chest. When Sander pulled back, Robbe chased after his lips and connected them again, and again, and again. Finally, Sander reached up, gripping onto Robbe’s jaw to stop him from following him. Robbe whined, leaning back, and Sander chuckled. “Ask the question,” Sander said. 

“Huh?” Robbe asked, confused. 

Sander turned serious with a sorrowful look on his face. Leaning back on the bed, Sander braced himself with both hands, making sure to avoid the plate of food. Robbe could see the nervous look in his eyes as Robbe leaned back as well. Then, Sander said, quietly, “Ask the question, Robbe. I know that you’ve wanted to ask it more than once.” 

Robbe sank further on Sander’s lap. Swallowing down his nerves, Robbe ran his hand across his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. Raising his eyes back to meet Sander’s, who was waiting nervously, Robbe asked, “What happened while I was at the beach house?” Despite insisting for Robbe to ask, Sander had grown nervous and quiet. Unable to handle the silence, Robbe couldn’t stop himself from talking to fill it, “I know something happened—something that made you change your—”

Before Robbe could finish the statement, Sander was cutting him off. “I never changed my mind, Robbe,” he said. 

“I know, it just—”

“I know what it looked like and I’m sorry that I made it seem like it was that way,” Sander said. Robbe could hear the sincerity in his voice, knew that he was telling the truth, and Robbe swallowed. “I never changed my mind, Robbe. I promise.” The look of insecurity crossed his face in a flash. “Do you believe me?”

Robbe nodded. “I do.” He swallowed, glancing down at his hands on Sander’s stomach. “Was it something I did, Sander?” Even though Sander started shaking his head, Robbe continued. “Because that’s the only thing I can think of and if I did something, you need to tell me.”

Sander cupped his face, trailing one of his thumbs down Robbe’s jaw. “You didn’t do anything, Robbe,” he whispered. Robbe leaned against him, nudging their noses together, and Sander mirrored his action. “And I didn’t change my mind.” 

“So, what happened?” Robbe asked. “Britt told me that you walked her home on Tuesday—after having dinner with her parents—and that you started texting her more after that. And… that’s when I started thinking you were acting strange too.”

“I know, I know,” Sander said, letting out a breath as he gripped briefly to Robbe’s thighs. Robbe ran a hand across Sander’s shoulders, feeling his muscles tense beneath his fingers. “After I walked Britt home, I headed back to my apartment. On my way, I ran into Thomas.” 

“Thomas?” Robbe asked. “As in my ex-boyfriend, Thomas?”

Sander nodded and Robbe felt a brief surge of anger whip through his bloodstream. But, he stayed quiet as Sander ran a hand down his leg. “As I was passing by the bar—the one where I met you, he stumbled out of it with one of the bartenders supporting him to a cab. He was completely wasted and pissed off at you, I think, and everyone at the same time. He nearly ran into me and I helped him the rest of the way. Once he realized that it was me, he started yelling at me and saying all these things about you.”

Robbe swallowed. “What did he say?”

“It’s not important, Robbe—”

“Yes, it is,” he said. Robbe knew that he was being a little more forceful than he meant to be, but he had seen the hurt in Sander’s eyes, the twisted remains of Thomas’s harsh words. There was white-hot anger boiling in his gut and even though it wasn’t like him, Robbe wanted to hunt down his ex. Why couldn’t Thomas be gone? Letting out a breath, Robbe said, “Sander, if it hurt you so badly, it is important.”

Sander sighed. “It’s not necessarily what he said at the moment,” Sander said. “I knew he was just a pissed off ex and he’s certainly not the first ex to be pissed at me—hopefully, he’ll be the last—plus, I could tell that he was drunk out of his mind. So, at first, I was able to write it all off as just that: an upset and drunk ex… but…” Sander paused, bowing his head. “But, as the week went on, I kept thinking about his words again and they started affecting me more and more until they were all I was thinking about—”

“Sander,” Robbe said, gently. “What did he say?” 

Sander sighed. “That you would get bored of me and leave me as you left him,” Sander said. His voice was so quiet and small. Robbe moved to speak, to remind him that it wasn’t true, but Sander shook his head before continuing. “And, what he said was ridiculous—because he was the one that broke up with you—but it was like he managed to string at all of my insecurities in one quick, drunken shout. The longer it went, the worse it became and it just all caught up to me on Thursday and I—” He cut himself off, swallowing obviously. 

“I understand,” Robbe said. Sander glanced away from him, preferring to look at his shirt, and Robbe ran a hand through the hair on the nape of his neck. “Your thoughts are like the mural, right? The ocean slamming down until it feels like your drowning?” Sander’s eyes flickered up to him, surprised. “Thomas has always been frighteningly good at figuring out insecurities, Sander, but he is wrong, okay? I am not going anywhere.” 

Sander stayed quiet, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m never going to go anywhere and I will make sure to tell you that every day,” Robbe said. He leaned to him, rubbing their noses together, and Sander leaned against him. He sat up, taking Robbe with him, and Sander placed his hands on Robbe’s waist, gripping him tightly. Robbe placed his hands along Sander’s jawline and kissed his nose. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m going to prove it to you every day. Is that okay?”

Sander nodded before letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” Sander said. His breath fanned out against Robbe’s face, warming his skin. Robbe pulled him closer, feeling the nervous tension in his shoulders. “For making you feel that way… From the minute that you left last Friday, I wanted to chase after you and kiss you senseless but my thoughts were just so loud and I thought that you would be safer if I… I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me—”

“You can never hurt me, Sander—”

“I just did, Robbe,” Sander said, hurriedly. “I’ve spent the last week hurting you, not responding to messages and making you feel like I never—” 

“Okay,” Robbe said, running a hand through Sander’s hair. He began to calm, leaning his head in the direction of Robbe’s palm, and Robbe pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Let me rephrase that… You would never hurt me to hurt me, okay? No matter what happened this past week, I am going to forgive you, Sander—and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Sander swallowed, his voice breaking as he said, “Really?”

At the hurt and pain in his voice, Robbe could feel his heart ripping into two. Sander didn’t believe that Robbe forgave him—Sander didn’t believe that Robbe was never going to leave. How many people had left Sander? How many times had he been hurt? His gut knew that he would never be able to tell Sander enough right now so Robbe leaned forward and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. As much as he could, Robbe tried to pour every ounce of feeling into the kiss—to let Sander know with certainty that he was never going to leave, to let him know that he forgave him.

When they separated, Robbe placed a flurry of kisses across his face before declaring, “Really.” 

For the first time since Robbe returned to the bedroom, Sander smiled. It was bright and it was genuine, but Robbe could see the emotion fluttering in it—overwhelmed but happy. Wrapping his arms around Sander’s shoulders, Robbe pulled him closer and Sander clung to his body. Glancing at Robbe’s lips, Sander tilted his chin up a little and Robbe was more than willing to kiss him again—for the rest of the afternoon—or forever. 

But, before their lips could meet, their stomachs let out a loud, unison growl. 

Unwrapping his arm from Sander’s shoulders, Robbe chuckled. “Looks like our stomachs had enough waiting,” Robbe teased, trying not to let his disappointment show. When Robbe attempted to climb off his lap, Sander gripped tightly on his hips, not wanting him to move. Getting the message, Robbe stopped trying to get off and simply reached for the set-aside plate and the discarded forks.

As Robbe took a bite of the scrambled eggs, Sander said matter-of-factly, “I don’t know how this food is going to compare when I have the most delicious thing right in front of me.” Robbe could feel the flush creeping on his face. Flirty, confident Sander was back in full force. The insecure Sander was still there, swimming in the broken pool of his eyes, but Robbe knew that his jokes meant he was feeling better. Plus, the sight of Robbe’s pink cheeks brought Sander’s bright smile back.

“We’ll see about that,” Robbe said, scooping up a bite of eggs.

“Hey, I’m deadly serious—” Sander was cut off as Robbe shoved the bite of eggs into his open mouth. Swallowing, Sander started drooling as he reached blindly behind him, “Oh my god. That’s amazing! Where’s the other fork?” 

Robbe laughed loudly as Sander reached for the second fork.

…

Zondag 13:38

Yesterday, after they had finished their cold breakfast, Sander raced into the kitchen to thank Jonathan for the food with Robbe and the empty plate trailing behind. Leaving the comfort and solitude of Robbe’s room had been a mistake. Now that Milan wasn’t in a hurry to leave, he proceeded to interrogate Sander about everything that Robbe didn’t tell him. Sander dutifully answered all of Milan’s questions—going into meticulous detail about their picnic in the park and their first kiss by the warehouse to Milan’s glee—and Robbe was the one sitting on the kitchen counter, writhing in embarrassment. 

Before Milan could ask another question, the blushing Robbe dragged Sander back into his room. Even as Sander continued to tease him, Robbe knew that his words packed no punch and brought him into a kiss. The two of them fell on Robbe’s bed before putting a YouTube video on one of their phones and they stayed there until Milan knocked on the bedroom door, asking for Sander’s favorite pizza and demanding they join him and Jonathan for a Harry Potter marathon.

About halfway through the second movie, Sander promptly said that he was a Slytherin. Robbe reasoned that he could’ve been a Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw and Milan simply laughed. Jonathan insisted that Milan and Robbe were both Hufflepuffs—which Robbe admitted to seeing—before Sander spoke up that Robbe could be a Ravenclaw. 

As they argued about Jonathan’s house, Zoë returned home with Senne in tow. At the sight of Sander lying on the couch with Robbe coiled in his lap, Senne let out an obvious breath of relief before exclaiming, “Oh thank God!” Sander laughed and Senne proceeded to tackle them, trapping Robbe between their arms. Zoë doubled over in laughter as Robbe tried to squirm out of their hold and Jonathan stated, “Senne is a Gryffindor”, to kick start the conversation again. 

As Jonathan made another bag of popcorn and Milan put in the fourth movie, Robbe turned in Sander’s arms to face him, quietly whispering, “Did you need to head back to your apartment soon?” 

Sander glanced down at him with a soft look in his eyes. “Did you want me to go?”

Robbe shook his head. “No,” Robbe said. “I just didn’t know if you had work tomorrow. And I don’t want Emilie to think that I’m just stealing you away all the time.”

Sander chuckled. “I don’t have work until Monday and I’m not leaving until there.” As Robbe smiled up at him, the confident bravado of Sander’s faltered. “Unless you wanted me to leave tonight?” Robbe shook his head, leaning to kiss him. Sander kissed him back in full force, wrapping him securely in his arms. Robbe forgot that they weren’t alone until someone hit them with a pillow, jolting them apart. 

It was Senne. “Come on, lovebirds,” he teased. “The movie is starting.”

“Really?” Sander asked. “You wanna go?” 

Waking up on Sunday morning with Sander’s nose pressed against his neck and his arms around his waist… it was a feeling that Robbe hoped would never go away. For breakfast, all six of them crowded around the small dining room table in the kitchen, bumping elbows as they passed food around. Zoë texted Lucas a photo of the table and giggled at his jealous response. 

Once breakfast was over, Zoë raced out of the apartment, needing to get to work before her late morning shift. Senne left shortly after, meeting up with Max and his girlfriend. While Senne extended the invitation to Sander, Robbe felt his heart do a flip when Sander said: “Maybe next time.” Jonathan had to head out to his mom’s house and Milan went with him. Being the only ones left, Robbe and Sander did the dishes before returning to the comfort of Robbe’s bed, curled up together.

Robbe didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed or the safety of Sander’s arms. Tomorrow, the two of them would return to ‘normal’—the type of normal where they didn’t wake up in each other’s arms or hold hands beneath the kitchen table. After their first kiss and spending the night at Sander’s apartment, Robbe always woke up in the middle of the night to find no one in the bed with him and he had a feeling that it would only be more intense now. 

As the day went on, Robbe’s need to never leave his bed grew tenfold. But, when Sander turned to put on another Youtube video—a Pokémon YouTuber/Streamer whose intro Robbe memorized in an hour—Sander spotted the time on his phone and turned to him. “Hey, it’s almost time for you to stream.”

Robbe blinked up at him, half-asleep against his shoulder. “Huh?” 

Sander showed him the phone—Robbe’s feeling euphoric from being in Sander’s arms to be embarrassed about the drawing as his lock screen photo—and Robbe focused on the time. 13:38. Robbe let out a groan, snuggling further into Sander’s chest. “I don’t normally stream on Sundays.” 

“That’s true,” he said. Sander ran a hand through Robbe’s curls, giving them a gentle tug and trying to pull him up from his chest. Robbe let out a low whine but turned to look up at him all the same. “But you also didn’t stream yesterday. Generally, if you didn’t stream on Saturday, you stream on Sunday.”

“That’s true…”

“So, are you?”

Robbe shook his head, leaning back against Sander’s chest. “I’m not going to stream today,” Robbe said, letting out a breath. Sander turned to him, a curious look in his eyes. “Since I ended the stream short on Friday and I didn’t stream yesterday, I know that I should probably stream but… I don’t want to get up.” 

Sander laughed. “You should.”

“Why?” Robbe asked. 

“For lots of reasons,” Sander said, chuckling. “It’s your job—and your main source of income—and you love doing it. I know you do. Remember, I’ve watched nearly all of your streams in the past month and a half and it’s amazing, like no one I’ve ever seen before.” Robbe felt his cheeks flush and that was before Sander rolled them over, hovering a breath above him. “Plus, when you play video games, you’re really hot.” 

Robbe chuckled, making an obvious show that he was rolling his eyes.

Sander leaned down closer, their lips brushing, but not quite kissing. Robbe extended his neck, to try and connect their lips, but Sander was evil and pulled back at the last second. Robbe groaned and Sander grinned like he won the lottery. “I promise that I’ll be good if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“You are quite distracting,” Robbe said. Sander chuckled, pressing a feather-light kiss against his lips. When Robbe whined, Sander kissed him again—this time, deeper, pushing his mouth open instantly and lowering his body against him. Robbe pulled Sander closer, tugging at the fabric of his t-shirt. Sander wouldn’t budge so Robbe tugged a little harder, trying to get him to come closer, to kiss him harder.

But Sander, ever the temptation, simply pulled away at the last second and beamed down at him. “Don’t worry,” Sander said, grinning. Robbe blinked up at him. “I’ll go swing by my apartment for clothes to wear tonight and tomorrow.” Robbe barely had time to react before Sander was pressing another fleeting kiss to his lips. “Then, for the rest of your stream, I’ll stay at the café downstairs.”

With a sense of finality, Sander rolled off of him, leaving Robbe stunned on the bed. 

“What?” Robbe asked, sitting up. Robbe stood up from the bed, watching Sander grab his gray denim jeans from the floor from where they had been abandoned on Friday night. He quickly swapped Robbe’s borrowed sweats—the ones Robbe always had to pull up because they were too big but managed to look perfect on Sander—for his jeans. As Sander buttoned his jeans and reached for his belt, Robbe asked, softly, “You’re leaving?” 

With the belt in one hand, Sander glanced up, catching his gaze before Robbe glanced away. Instantly, he abandoned it, dropping it back on the floor, and instantly wrapped Robbe in his arms. Once Robbe was sunk into his embrace, Sander placed a kiss against his head. “Only temporarily,” Sander said, his voice sounding so sure in Robbe’s ear. “As soon as your stream is over, I’ll come back to you. Or, you can come to me and we can go get something to eat.” 

Robbe swallowed, feeling silly as he said, “So, you’re coming back?” 

Sander weaved his hand through Robbe’s hair. He gently pulled on the strands, coaxing Robbe to tilt his head back so they were looking at each other. Once Robbe’s eyes were on his own, Sander said, “Yes, I am.” Robbe nodded, standing on his toes to bring their lips together. Sander kissed him like he was precious, holding him tightly against him, and a warmth shot through Robbe with a frightening intensity. 

Sander broke their kiss, briefly, to place two more feather-light kisses against his lips. Robbe laughed and tried to lean forward to kiss him. But, Sander dodged his kiss at the last second, pressing one against his cheekbone and then his jaw. Finally, Sander placed a final kiss against the curve of his jaw before holding Robbe tightly. The two of them swayed in the middle of the room, simply reveling in each other’s presence. “Are you sure that you’re alright with me staying another night?” 

“Yes, I promise,” Robbe breathed out. “I want you here and you never have to ask. You’re always welcome to share my bed. If you want, I’ll even clean out a drawer for you.” 

Sander laughed. “I’d like that,” he admitted. Pulling him closer, Sander kissed him again. It was brief before they were separating and Sander was shoving him toward his desk. Before Sander left completely he paused to place one final kiss on Robbe’s mouth and he said, “Good luck”, with the brightest smile on his face. Robbe beamed at him, relinquishing one more longer kiss out of him before Sander left the apartment with his bag on his shoulder and his Doc Martens.