rinney/brance oneshots

rinney- give you my lovin

"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."

---------

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?"