Rinney—
(Finney's 13—
Robin's 14—)
Modern time—
Implied sa—
Mentioned sh—
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Most adults or upperclassmen describes Finney and Robin's relationship as 'school love' or 'puppy love', but the two boys thought of it as something very different.
As true love, and that's the only way they'd describe it.
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"Robin!" Finney called out for the boy as he shot up from his bed, in Robin's guest room, and ran for the door.
He's had a nightmare about that night. The night that old man had got to him in that dark alleyway as he was crying, taking advantage of the boy's mental state.
"Robin," Finney sobbed, shouting the boy's name as the old man hovered over him, keeping the young boy's wrist over his head.
"No, no—" He choked on his tears, attempting to dodge the messy kiss the man had tried to force onto him. "Please! Just l-leave me alone, I was just trying t-to get home!"
"Shut up, boy."
That was all Finney heard before blacking out from the overwhelming pressure.
"Robin," Finney cried out as he collapsed against a wall in the long hall, his shoulder to it as he slid down helplessly. He placed his knees to his chest, holding a hand over his mouth as he cried.
He was sweaty and hyperventilating, still crying out for that same boy. That one boy that made him feel safe, at home, his one true love.
Finney tried to silence his cries when he heard footsteps, and the sound of a breathing human.
"Finney, hijo, es tú?" The sound of Robin's mother, Isabella, came from around the corner.
Finney tried to calm down his breathing, but only ended up choking even more on his tears, "S-sí."
"Oh, cariño, no llores!" She ushered, quickly going to fetch Robin before the boy's breathing got too horrible.
After exactly two minutes, Robin was by his side, "Finney, darling, what's wrong?"
Finney let out a retched sob, clinging onto Robin as if his life depended on it.
Robin quickly thanked his mom, denying her help as he picked Finney up and off of the dusty ground, "Puedes volver con papá, mamá, irte a dormir. Está bien, lo prometo."
"Vale, asegúrate de que no se desmaye, vale?" Isabella told her son, gingerly swiping the Finney's fringe behind his ears.
"Sí, mamá."
That night, Robin kept Finney in his embrace, whispering sweet nothings to the slightly shorter boy until Finney's breathe evened out and eventually became steady.
"Th-thank you, Robin," Finney looked up to Robin, scanning his features with a soft look.
"You don't have to thank me, amor," Robin grinned softly, placing a slow kiss to Finney's soft, and slightly chapped lips.
It was only soft and loving, they were only young, being 14 and 13, and everything was only ever soft and loving. They felt as though they had all of the time in the world.
Finney smiled into the kiss, right as they were about to part.
Finney placed his legs between Robin's, slightly maneuvering himself on top of the Mexican boy, making himself comfortable.
"Goodnight, Robin," Finney muttered sleepily.
"Goodnight, darling," Robin placed a peck on Finney's crown of hair.
And that was one of the many things that reminded Finney why he loved Robin so dearly.
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"I don't know, Finney!" Robin yelled, his vision blurry with built up tears.
"Why won't you just tell me?" Finney meekly asked, his face flushed red from the rush of adrenaline and nerve he was feeling, "Please, Robin, why do you keep doing it?"
"Finney, I don't know."
"Amour, you must know something, you wouldn't just keep doing it for no reason!" Finney slightly raised his voice, tears streaming down his face as he held the bloody knife in his hand.
Robin hadn't even meant to, it's as if an invisible string is guiding him back to that same restroom. Making him grab that same pocket knife.
Making him cut in those same places.
"Finney," Robin let the tears fall, sobbing loudly. He dropped in his place, trembling as he just cried, "I don't know, i-it just feels s-so good. . ."
"Robin," Finney stumbled to kneel next to his lover, crying louder than a few minutes ago, "Don't say that. Please, don't say that."
"I'm sorry, Finney, I'm sorry."
Finney hiccuped, shifting around their positions so he was cradling Robin ever so gently, "Mamá told y-ou to stop, I-I was there when she did."
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Robin continued to sob.
"It's alright, just. . .please. Stop."
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"Ro-Robin!" Finney laughed loudly, attempting to push the needy older boy away.
"Nuh uh! You told me you would give me your attention today!" Robin chuckled as he grabbed Finney from behind.
"Ay!" Terrence, Finney's father, shouted, "It's time for lunch, and quiet down!"
Finney muffled his laughter in the slightly large sleeve of Robin's hoodie. "This is why we should've stayed at your house for the day, Robin."
"Well, yeah, but i promised Gwen I'd play Roblox with her," Robin reasoned as he pulled Finney to the kitchen.
"Yada yada," Finney rolled his eyes as he sat in his usual chair, Robin sitting next to him.
"It's dad's overly sauced pasta tonight," Gwen said, not looking up from her iPad.
Finney looked at Robin at the exact time Robin looked at him. They stayed silent for a while, before bursting into loud laughter.
Terrence groaned, "What's so funny? Huh?"
"Nothing, dad," Gwendolyn covered for the two boys, silently telling them to quiet down.
The older man mumbled something under his breath, placing down Robin and Gwenny's plates before going back to carry his and Finney's.
"Thank you, Mr. Blake."
"Thanks, dad."
"Thank you."
And Gwen was right. The pasta was overly sauced.
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Yayyayayayay!!
Another chapter finished!!💪
