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chinoosposts · 4 years

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24 (Soulmate AU) & 74 (huddling for Warmth) with Robbe & Sander🙈💙💙

Sorry this is a little bit later than I expected but happy birthday @pduwd!!❤️ Here you go Martha 🥰

24. Soulmate AU

74. Huddling For Warmth

They really don’t expect it to snow.

They really really don’t expect it to snow so much they get trapped in.

Robbe supposes it makes perfect sense that he’s the only one in the flat when it happens, with Milan off visiting family and Zoë and Senne on their own weekend getaway. It makes absolutely no sense that the only person who does end up there with him is Sander. The guy Noor had introduced him to, that he’s slowly been getting closer and closer to for the past couple of months, that he’d quickly formed a massive crush on. They have reached the stage where they can hang out on their own, where they actually actively seek out each other’s company, but Robbe still finds it strange that Sander shows up at his door on Christmas Eve with no previous warning.

Minutes before it starts to snow.

Minutes after that, the power goes out.

Of course, the flat doesn’t have an open fire, relies only on the electric heating, and of course Sander feels the need to go outside to check if the power is out through the whole street and return soaked to his skin. Robbe can only flap his hands at him helplessly and say, “You seriously didn’t even put on your coat?!”

He completely ignores Sander’s smile and cooes of, “Aww, are you worried about me?” and goes off to find him a fluffy towel and dry clothes. He remembers being warned off Zoë’s room and is sure Senne probably took most of his wardroom with him anyway and digs out one of his own, baggier hoodies and his longest sweats. They’ll still be a little tight on Sander, probably, but Robbe tells himself that just means they’ll be cosy. He’s sure Sander will appreciate them as long as they’re dry.

When he hands the bundle to Sander when he comes back out, he’s ready to tell him he can use the bathroom when Sander simply strips his jumper off in the middle of the living room. Robbe feels heat creep up his neck and manages to bite back the odd sound sneaking up his throat as Sander wraps the towel around his own shoulders and rubs some heat back into his arms. Robbe has the urge to do it for him, to bundle him up and hug and caress until all his shivers have run out. He wrings his hands together instead and diverts his eyes as Sander lifts the towel to scrub at his hair.

Robbe’s gaze flits back to him though after something catches his attention. While the lines and curves of Sander’s chest and stomach are nice, Robbe’s eyes don’t linger and instead catch on the little circular shaped scar on his hip. A funny, very specific scar that matches the one on Robbe’s own hip identically; the one he’d gotten at the age of ten when he’d fallen off his skateboard and on to the tiny leftover smatterings of a broken bottle.

They’d never talked about soulmates, him and Sander, but Robbe is pretty sure Sander doesn’t already have one. He’s pretty sure he would’ve noticed that, or it would’ve been something Sander mentioned, or Noor would have brought it up at some point. He’s pretty sure Noor and Jens at least are aware of his feelings for Sander, as well as probably Milan, and he’s sure Noor would have let him down gently if Sander was already with someone. Not that Sander has to have a romantic relationship with his soulmate. But still, Robbe’s pretty sure it would have come up.

Robbe shouldn’t get his hopes up. It isn’t a sure thing. Maybe it’s Sander’s own scar, and he’d be able to tell Robbe exactly how he got it if he asked him right now.

It seems too specific to be a coincidence.

He doesn’t get the chance to think (panic) about it because then Sander is reaching for the button of his jeans and the odd noise finally escapes Robbe’s throat in an embarrassed squeak. Sander freezes and looks at him as Robbe looks away and holds his hands up, as if to better block his view. “You can use the bathroom,” is the only thing that tumbles out of his mouth, all in a breathless rush, voice high and strained.

He doesn’t have to look to know Sander’s smiling at him, that smug little knowing smirk he’s been sending Robbe a lot since they met. Sander merely shrugs and gestures at the candles Robbe has lit on the coffee table and the dim light coming through the window. “I won’t even be able to see in the bathroom.”

“Just use your phone.”

Sander’s smile turns sheepish. “My battery’s dead.”

“Then use my phone. Or just take a candle.”

Sander holds his hands up innocently and bundles the clothes into his arms. Robbe sets his phone on top and Sander disappears down the hall. Then Robbe has a chance to panic.

Because there’s no way in hell that Sander Driesen is his soulmate. There’s no way in hell that Robbe is that lucky.

But it would explain things, wouldn’t it? That sudden, intense thrum of electricity he’d felt when they’d been introduced and in every interaction since. The constant, insistent tug in his gut whenever Sander was in his orbit, drawing them together. The recognition absent from his mind but buried somewhere deep in his soul, letting him feel like he knows Sander in such a familiar way that shouldn’t yet be possible. Robbe has felt, from the beginning, a connection with Sander, a surety buried in his heart that Sander is, somehow and in some way, the one. Robbe hadn’t been entirely sure what ‘one’ that had meant. If that connection is a soulmate one, though...

That’s as far as Robbe’s thoughts get before Sander returns and his brain comes to a halt. The sweats are just a little short, stopping just an inch or two above his ankle bones. The hoodie is, as expected, a little tighter around his shoulders and midriff than it is on Robbe, but it still seems loose enough to be comfortable.

Robbe kinda wishes he’d just broken Zoë’s rule.

After his recent realisation, Sander also wearing his clothes is setting him off kilter. It feels, to Robbe, a little too much like a boyfriend thing. And, whether Robbe’s right or not about who they could be to each other, Sander is not his boyfriend.

He hands Robbe his phone back and curls up on the couch and shivers. Robbe breaks out of his stupor enough to head to Milan’s room and dig out the set of blankets he knows he keeps in his wardrobe. He takes them back to the sitting room and immediately starts tucking them around Sander’s shoulders and over his legs. Sander snorts but lets him do it, so Robbe arranges all three fluffy sheets around him in a tight cocoon.

He isn’t sure then if Sander’s shuddering eases because he’s warming up or simply because he can’t move.

Robbe settles on the opposite side of the sofa and pulls the sleeves of his own hoodie down over his hands, drawing his knees to his chest. He hadn’t realised the effect the heating had, or how quickly it would disappear. The power’s only been out for roughly thirty or forty minutes and the temperature in the flat has already dropped drastically. Robbe hugs his knees closer to his chest and tries to ignore the occasional shiver that begins to shake through him. He does his best not to think about Sander or soulmates or Sander possibly being his soulmate.

“Robbe.” Sander breaks the silence. Robbe turns his head to look at him. “You’re shivering.”

“So are you. Are you still cold?”

“Fucking freezing. The blankets are helping, but they’re making me feel more suffocated and sweaty than like I’m actually warming up.”

Robbe watches the blankets flutter with another abrupt shiver and frowns. “I don’t think we have anymore. I can take the duvet off the bed, or we can move the candles to my room and you could—“

“We could,” Sander corrects. Robbe blinks at him. He elaborates, “Yes, I was stupid enough to go out and get soaked but you’re cold too. You’ll freeze if you just keep sitting there like that. You either take some of the blankets, or better we...”

Sander trails off and Robbe cocks his head, lying it on his arms before asking, “What’s better?”

“Body heat,” Sander says easily.

Robbe stops functioning. He repeats, “Body heat.”

Sander nods, the image of casual. “Yeah. It’s basic survival techniques, Robbe. Everyone knows that if you’re dying from hypothermia, the best chance you have is body heat.”

“You’re not dying from hypothermia. Fuck, do you feel like you’re dying?”

“No, Robbe,” Sander laughs slightly, “but it’s that kind of situation. We’re both going to shrivel up or turn into icicles if we have to sit in this. God knows when the power is going to come back on and the snow is too bad to get anywhere else. Blankets can only do so much.”

Robbe swallows, then nods. He clears his throat. “Body heat. Okay. Do we go to my room then, or...?”

“It might be okay here if we share the blankets. Come.” He carefully untucks the blankets from his side, the side next to Robbe, and shivers violently. His expression and tone are soft when he again beckons, “Come.”

Robbe scoots over towards him and lets Sander tuck the blankets over them both. He immediately presses himself to Robbe’s side and, almost out of instinct, Robbe sets his arm around his shoulders, pulling him in closer and hopefully offering a little more heat. Sander snuggles into his side and rests his head on Robbe’s shoulder, already shivering less and letting out a contented sigh. Robbe looks down at him, eyes fluttering closed and lashes brushing his cheeks and expression serene, and smiles softly before clearing his throat. “Better?”

Sander hums. “Better. What about you?”

Robbe nods, realises Sander can’t see it, and says, “Yeah, better.”

And it is, so, so much better. Even though he’s frozen stiff, there’s a natural heat radiating off of Sander, pressed along Robbe’s entire side to his hip. They’re also knee to knee, Sander’s legs tilted slightly against Robbe’s own and igniting one burning circle of contact. The rest of him is covered by the blankets, also extra warm with two bodies underneath. The heat radiates across Robbe, spreading through him, and he almost forgets it was cold in the first place.

Still, the single shiver that runs through him is enough incentive to cuddle just a little bit closer to Sander.

Sander’s hands have been tucked under his armpits, but he moves one to fix the blankets over them and accidentally brushes over Robbe’s neck, who jolts away. “Fuck, your hands are freezing,” he says, before Sander can apologise or hide his hands away again. Without taking his arm off of Sander, he takes the blonde’s hands in his own and rubs them. When it only works to make Robbe’s hands colder, he brings them up to his mouth and blows warm air into the middle of them, then resumes his light ministrations, soothing circles into the back of Sander’s hands with his thumbs.

Sander mumbles a small, “Thanks.”

Robbe smiles and rests his head on top of Sander’s.

At some stage, his hands stop rubbing Sander’s and instead droop to cradle them against their chests, no longer creating heat but keeping them encased in warmth. Sander shifts against Robbe, fixing the position of his head on Robbe’s shoulder. Robbe lifts his only long enough for him to get settled, then drops it back on top of Sander’s, eyes drifting shut.

He doesn’t realise they’ve fallen asleep until he wakes with a start at the sound of the door. He sits, wide eyed and alert as Sander shifts against him and grumbles quietly, pressing the heel of his hand against his eye as he wakes up. Robbe can’t help but tighten his grip on his shoulders until Milan appears in the doorway.

He pauses at the sight of them and Robbe’s shoulders droop, head tilting back against the sofa. “Milan, what the hell?”

“Ahh,” Milan smiles, “sorry to interrupt?”

Sander lifts himself away from Robbe, rubbing his hands over his face, and Robbe hastily withdraws his arm and scoots a few inches away. Robbe struggles to come up with an explanation, and eventually says, “Sander got caught in the snow and the power went out.”

Milan nods in acceptance, but his smile widens, and Robbe knows he isn’t going to get away with it that easily. “I got stuck, too. Had to hide out in an all night cafe, and the road was still blocked the other way so I had to come home.” He mouths ‘sorry’ at Robbe as Sander stands with a curse.

“My mom’s going to kill me,” he mutters. “Do any of you have a charger I could use.”

“There’s one lying on my desk, you can use that,” Robbe offers.

Sander nods and makes a beeline for Robbe’s room. Milan waits until he’s out of sight before hurrying over to Robbe, dropping onto the sofa beside him with a shocked expression. “That looked cosy.”

“Well, you didn’t have any more blankets,” Robbe flails.

“Ahh, so it’s thanks to me. Well you’re welcome, Robbe, I always truly do my best to benefit the community.”

“Milan,” Robbe groans. “It wasn’t like that.”

Milan’s expression softens. He lowers his voice. “But it’s like that for you, isn’t it?”

Robbe can only shrug helplessly. Milan raises his brows and waits patiently, and Robbe decides his best plan is to wait him out.

It works, because only a minute later Sander is rushing back out, tucking his phone into his pocket. He directs his gaze to Milan. “Milan, I hate to ask, but could you drive me home? My mom doesn’t want to go out in that and I—“

“Sander, Sander, of course,” Milan cuts him off, already getting up and heading out to collect his keys. “It’s cleared up perfectly well, don’t you worry your pretty blonde head about it. Anything you ask.”

Sander smiles gratefully, and Robbe finally shrugs the blankets off of himself and sits on the edge of the cushions. Sander turns his smile on him before looking down at himself. Or, more precisely, at Robbe’s clothes still on him. He raises a brow at Robbe. “Is it okay if I keep them until the next time I see you?”

“No, Sander, I really need that exact hoodie back, you’re going to have to leave in your sopping wet clothes.”

Sander grins and walks back over to him, dipping down to give him half a hug and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, Robin,” he winks before heading out after Milan, leaving Robbe smiling after him.

It’s only after he’s gone that Robbe remembers he hadn’t asked him about the scar.

It’s another three weeks before he musters up the courage, this time laying with Sander in his room, on his back with Sander on his stomach next to him, sketching something he won’t let Robbe see. Robbe watches him for a moment before simply asking, “Where did you get that scar on your hip?”

Sander blinks over at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What scar?”

“The little kinda puckered circle one.”

“Oh. It’s, uhm. It’s not mine,” he shrugs. He props his head in his hand and twists slightly to look at Robbe. “Why?”

“No, uh. Just. I have one like that. Fell when I was ten.”

Sander stares at him. Robbe holds his gaze, even as pressure builds in his chest and he has to swallow down the lump in his throat. He waits, and waits, for Sander to say something, or laugh at him, or do anything other than lie there and stare at him.

He doesn’t speak, or laugh. Instead he leans over and kisses Robbe softly for the first time. Robbe makes a tiny, surprised noise, and just manages to kiss back before Sander is pulling away with the brightest smile Robbe has seen yet.

“Robbe, if you’re trying to tell me we’re soulmates, I already know.”

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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could you write to the best and to the confirmation of their relationship, that they go to a party together and Sander take his hand and present Robbe as her boyfriend in front of everyone and in front of Senne, I would like to see his reaction bothering Sander.

Part 8

It’s Noor’s birthday, Britt’s best friend since they were tiny little babies. Sander heard that story too many times, Britt loved to tell him and anyone else, really, how she got the perfect best friend for life story.

Anyone else would say it’s the worst idea to bring your new and first boyfriend to your ex-girlfriend’s best friend party, but all the way or no way, right?

Sander just wants to be done with all this awkwardness. Britt is his ex, it wasn’t even official between them for him, but Sander guesses anyone else would count constantly making out with the same person for over a year as a “relationship”.

For him, she was just always someone he knew that he went to when they both needed to have safe sex with someone they trusted. They’ve known each other for a long time too, maybe that’s what made her so bitter about Robbe and what made so hard for Sander to let go.

Britt is the safest choice, the easy, basic, boring one that everyone expects him to have feelings for.

Robbe is like jumping from a cliff into the complete pitch black dark. They lived very different lives, have very different personalities, but Sander can’t control how he feels, that’s not how it works, especially not for him. Since he was a kid, he always felt everything deeply and so he knows there’s no running from how he feels about Robbe and how the boy feels about him.

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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our academia of love (chapter one)

synopsis: Robbe Ijzermans is accepted into Antwerp Academy with a full-ride scholarship, a prestigious boarding school in the outskirts of the city known for its rigorous academics and even more notable alumni. Unsurprisingly, a myriad of secrets simmers beneath the surface between the students and their ways of having fun in a place where order is enforced. When Robbe finally meets the roommate who he’ll be dorming with for the rest of the year, Sander Driesen, it doesn’t take long for him to realize that he’s in for a ride of a lifetime.

OR my Boarding School!AU for Robbe & Sander

*****

Robbe Ijzermans never ran outside to pick up the mail.

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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Robbe & Sander - Summer Special (Part 5)

“Where were we?” Sander asked, mostly to himself. “Ah yes. So at some point during summer, I might do a photo shoot for the band of this guy from school. You could come with me. They’re pretty cool. Maybe I’ll film a video during a rehearsal or something. I’ve never done that, but maybe I should try, expand a little. I could take a class on filming and editing...”

“A guy from school, huh?” Robbe said in a mock-suspicious tone.

“Seriously? That’s all you got from ‘I might film a music video’?”

“I mean, I don’t know. Have I met this guy?”

“No? Why would you have? We’re not really friends or anything.”

“Is that the reason? Or is it because you used to follow him around like a lapdog?” Robbe said teasingly.

“Oh my God! This is payback for what I said about Jens, right?! Come on!”

“I mean... You’re most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, so... I know you never brought a boy home before but still...”

“Stop it!” Sander exclaimed with a laugh.

Robbe laughed.

“It’s nice to be the one that teases for once.”

“What?! You tease me plenty, mister Ijzermans, thank you very much.”

Robbe chuckled.

“Perhaps... perhaps not enough... But alright. I will accept your invitation, mister Driessen.”

“I’m very glad.”

“I’ll be your groupie.”

“What?! I don’t think photographers have groupies.”

“Well, you will. Just for that one time.”

Sander rolled his eyes.

“And here I thought I’d met the man of my dreams, and he wants to be my groupie.”

“What?” Robbe asked.

“Mmh?”

“What did you just say?”

“That you want to be my groupie.”

“Before that.”

“That you’re the man of dreams.”

“Is that so?” Robbe asked with a half-smile, turning to face Sander.

“Does that surprise you? I thought I’d made it pretty clear, what with the mural of your face and the kissing you every chance I get...”

“I mean, that’s true. But, it’s still nice to hear...”

“Oh yeah?”

Sander turned too, better to face Robbe, cupping his face with left hand and stroking his cheek with his thumb softly.

“You’re the man of my dreams,” he repeated in a whisper, looking Robbe straight in the eyes.

Robbe couldn’t tease anymore. He perhaps couldn’t even speak anymore. They couldn’t do anything but kiss, and try to remember to breathe sometimes.

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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“No, I will not help you do this,” Robbe says firmly. The great hair debate of 2020 had begun a week after Robbe’s arrival at the Driesen house. Sander has been handing Robbe the buzz cutter everyday since, insisting that Robbe help him shear his hair off. Robbe has deployed every distraction method in his handbook to avoid this very moment. But Sander will not take no for an answer again.

“I want you to do it,” Sander begs. “Please, my hair is driving me crazy.”

“I love your hair,” Robbe says petulantly. “I will not help you murder it.”

“Robbe, don’t be ridiculous,” Sander sighs. “My hair will grow back. At this point it is so damaged I have no other choice but to grow it out again.”

“No, I just can’t do it,” Robbe holds the buzz cutter as if it is going to explode.

“Please, I don’t even look like myself anymore,” Sander insists. “This hair is out of control.”

“I still love it,” Robbe says, running his fingers lovingly through Sanders overgrown and damaged hair.

“Shut up!” Sander laughs. “I look like Albert Einstein!”

“You do not look like Albert Einstein,” Robbe insists. “Your long hair is beautiful.”

“No,” Sander argues. “Your long hair looks beautiful. You look like the love child between Prince Charming, Tarzan, and Jesus. Meanwhile I look like I have been sticking my finger in light sockets and yelling at children to get off my lawn. It is time.” And with that Sander grabs Robbe’s hand, the buzz cutter along with it and cuts a thick stripe of hair off in the middle of his head.

“You did NOT just do that!” Robbe yells in astonishment, absolute shock on his face.

“I did,” Sander laughs, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “You better keep going, or else I’ll have to keep this reverse mohawk.”

“You are one of a kind Sander Driesen,” Robbe mutters, switching the cutter back on. Robbe works in petulant silence, making sure to get every spot.

Sander closed his eyes as soon as Robbe had started. His bleached blond hair has been with him for a long time and he has gotten so used to seeing it in the mirror every time he looks at himself. He loves the way that it looks, but seeing it all grown out nearly ruined the idea in his mind forever. The cutters against his scalp feels really nice, Robbe’s hand against his head clearing off the loose hairs feels even better.

“Okay I’m done,” Robbe announces. Sander opens his eyes and can’t quite decipher the look on Robbe’s face. He looks almost angry as he brushes the hair off of Sander’s shoulders.

“What is it?” Sander asks tentatively. Praying that he doesn’t look even worse with this haircut.

“You got even hotter,” Robbe pouts.

Read the whole thing: AO3

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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In the lieu of 6 months of sobbe's first kiss here is the second part of the girl sobbe au I posted a while ago.

(The opening quote is from a letter from Vita Sackville West to Virginia Woolf written while she was off travelling in the year 1926)

~~~~

Violets in the ocean pt. 2

"You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it."

~~~

She was even more pretty up close, Sage thought, her startled doe eyes the colour of the sunset and oh, she had freckles dusting along the bridge of her nose towards her cheekbones which were pink from the sun and fuck, Sage was fucked.

"Can I help you?"

She had a soft lilting voice, it felt like honey was trickling down Sage's spine. Her mind a soft static in the face of such beautiful, beautiful girl, her heart beating in a rhythm that would put even Slash to shame. A soft clearing of the girl's throat brought Sage out of her stupor, and oh fuck, Sage had been staring at her.

"Can I sit here?"

"I mean its not like I own the beach, you can sit wherever you like," there was an amused tilt to her voice and Sage felt herself going hot under the collar of her shirt, because god damn the sass. Sage was so fucked.

"I mean its polite to ask before invading someone's personal space, isn't it?"

The girl's amused expression morphed into a surprised one and there was a flush to her face that Sage was sure was not entirely because of the sun. A thick feeling of satisfaction curled low in her belly as Sage shifted her facial expression into one of nonchalance. She raised her eyebrows towards the brown haired girl and in response received a quick jerk of the head. Satisfied and amused, Sage sat down next to the girl's sheet.

"Ah. I'm Sage, by the way," she put her hand out for a handshake like some Victorian gentleman, Sage's lips curled in what she desperately hoped was mischief instead of the lovestruck grin she knew she was capable of. She hoped her hands were not clammy. "Robyn," the girl, Robyn, smiled softly and clasped her hand in Sage's and oh, her hands were so soft, long bony fingers clasping her hand in a soft grip.

And. Fuck. Sage was so fucked.

~~~

And so it became a thing. Them, Sage and Robyn, hanging about on the beach staring at the sea. Sometimes they would talk and talk and talk for hours on end but sometimes they would sit in silence. It was new. Terrifyingly new. Sage had never had someone to share her silences with. It was exhilarating, intriguing, it felt like falling down the cliff she climbed every night to stare at the sky, she hoped that Robyn's fond laugh was the one waiting for her at the bottom of the fall.

~~~

"Have you seen Romeo and Juliet?"

They had been drinking that day. Something about Robyn's face, her tired eyes and the sad lilt of her voice had prompted Sage to buy a pack of beer to 'chase the sad away' and it wasn't a healthy coping mechanism by any means but they were young and on a time limit, at least that's what the excuse the two of them had come up with, so the alcohol.

"Nah. I don't really care about pedophilia disguised in tragedy at all."

Sage was rewarded with a frown, and a pout that she wanted to kiss away, the thought of pressing their lips close in a soft kiss had Sage taking another chug of her beer in case she did something stupid like lean in. Robyn sighed, a long suffering look on her face as if she had been made to face a particular argument she couldn't argue with and Sage thought was true enough.

"But it's a beautiful film! I kind of always wished that my first kiss would be underwater, its too late for that now." there was a definite whinging tone to Robyn's voice but Sage's mind had blanked somewhere along first kiss and underwater. She had to dig in her fingers into her thigh to stop herself from reaching over and making the fantasy come true.

Sage awkwardly cleared her throat and took another swig of her beer and hoped that Robyn wouldn't notice the stubborn blush that had crept up Sage's neck.

"For someone who loves art so much you're highly unappreciative of literature," Robyn grumbled poking her finger into Sage's arm. The brief, mildly painful, point of contact had almost set her nerves on fire. Sage looked over towards Robyn and realised that for all the boasting of high alcohol tolerance, Robyn was surprisingly a lightweight.

Sage huffed, unamused at Robyn getting drunk on just two cans of beers, "I am not unappreactive of literature. I just like to read unproblematic things."

"Like Sappho?"

"Like Sappho," Sage confirmed, fondness trickling down her gut at Robyn remembering her rambling about her favourite poets and poetesses which had turned into a heated discussion about flowers, which had turned into Sage giving an Introduction to the significance and meaning of flowers 101 to Robyn, who had listened, and apparently remembered too. It made her heart beat a little faster as she felt affection bloom for the sun kissed angel.

She hadn't realised how close their faces had gotten, hadn't realised just how close they'd both leaned in and oh, Robyn had swirls of gold in her eyes, up close, Sage could count down the eyelashes that rested prettily on her cheekbones. Unbidden, Sage's eyes drifted towards Robyn's lips, they were parted in anticipation, absently, she wondered if they would feel as soft as they looked or if they would look even more lush after, or if, if- and oh, Robyn was staring at her lips and Sage felt feverish, could only hear the sound of her own heart beating, and oh, Robyn's eyes were fluttering close and, and-

Abruptly Sage pulled back, heart in throat, vision almost blacking out with all the blood rushing back to her head. The confused noise that Robyn let out sliced through the static and she looked hurt and fuck that wasn't Sage's intention. Reaching out, she carefully brushed a loose strand of hair out Robyn's face, "I will not kiss you when you're drunk, angel."

All of a sudden, Robyn flopped onto her back, wiggling dramatically as she clutched her heart, "Why are you so fucking perfect? This is so unfair."

And Sage laughed out loud, and if there was a hint of relief in it nobody had to know.

~~~

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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Hi guys! This is like my first fic ever so I’m sorry if it sucks but I couldn’t get them playing tennis out of my head and it’s all based on my two posts lol:

Post

Good Game - Robbe x Sander

Robbe and Sander play tennis. Literally. That��s it. That’s the fic. Hope you enjoy!

(I also know literally nothing about tennis im sorry lol)

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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IN YOUR ARMS I’LL STAY

The Lockdown is finally over. Sander and Robbe will finally reunite today, being able to hold each other again and being cutest boyfriends ever!

Robbe woke up to the sound of his alarm going off, the sun was shining on his bed. He groaned and turned to the other side and pulled the sheets over his head. Not two minutes later, he sat up, nervously checking his phone. “Shit, today is the day!” he mumbled under his breath. The lockdown was finally over and Sander is going to come over today. Robbe sprinted to the bathroom, took a shower and found himself the best clothes he had.

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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Fifteen, love.

Where Robbe and Sander actually play tennis and don’t break quarantine restrictions.

Read on AO3

Robbe hadn’t expected them to actually play tennis, but after Sander texted him later that night saying he was deadly serious and that he was going to kick his ass, he had no choice but find a racket from the cupboard under the stairs filled assorted, forgotten sporting equipment and meet his boyfriend, for what was probably not going to end up being a friendly game of tennis.

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chinoosposts · 4 years

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It’s so weird to be in the outside world. Robbe keeps crossing the street to not run into people. There’s only a few people out, everyone kind of looking at each other, afraid to get too close even when clearly far away.

But Robbe is more anxious to see Sander, almost running to where they’re going to meet. They haven’t seen each other in so long. Video call is not the same. He stops at the street corner, checking the time, biting the corner of his lips, trying to keep his excitment to himself.

On the desert street, Sander’s whistle echoes and makes Robbe jump. He can see Sander’s smile from afar and he lets himself sigh, craving his touch and his kisses more than ever now that they’re meters away. He tries to calm his nervers, but it’s useless.

Robbe unlocks his phone as he starts walking, his chat with Sander still open.

To Sander: Remember…no touching

Robbe texts and looks through his lashes, Sander walking his way, still far away. It’s so ridiculous, they’ve been together for a couple of months and this still feels like a first date.

“Robin.” Sander nods his head as he greets Robbe, two meters in between them.

They both smile and Robbe puts his phone back inside his pocket, not knowing what to do with his hands if he can’t touch his boyfriend.

“Robbe…” Sander exhales annoyed as they get closer, dropping his arms dramatically on his sides.

“What?”

“We haven’t seen each other in over a moth! We’re safe.” He whines, staring at Robbe’s lips, making him dizzy just by having Sander’s intense eyes on him.

Robbe doesn’t know what to say. They were supposed to just see each other, hang out in the same phisical space, but it’s much harder to do it when Sander is right there, within arm’s reach.

Sander is faster than him, his hand quickly grips Robbe’s hoodie tightly, for a brief second Robbe felt his fingers against his stomach and just that small accidental touch made his knees weak. He thinks about looking around them like Sander is doing, making sure that they’re safe, but his eyes apparently can’t leave Sander’s face, his wet lips slightly open, his tongue almost out and Robbe’s mouth waters.

Again, Sander is quicker, pulling him closer, flat against Sander’s body, their mouths only inches away.

“We’ve been inside for weeks, we came on our bikes here, didn’t touch anything from the outside world…just the two of us.”

Robbe smiles, letting himself finally put his hands carefully on Sander’s chest, holding his jacket and just that makes him feel a little more comfortable, like this is really happening, it’s not just one of his daydreams.

“Did you tell your mom you’re staying with me today?”

“No…I said I would be back, was just going to play tennis with you.” He tilts his head to the side, loving to witness that thing Sander does with his brows as he huffs, annoyed and impatient as always.

“Robbe!”

“What?” He gently touches with his index finger what he can see of Sander’s skin, following his collarbone to his neck. “Let’s just go slow, yeah? We’re supposed to still be careful…”

“Where are we going then?” Sander sighs, rolling his eyes. “Since out bar it’s not an option yet…we could go to our hotel.”

Robbe laughs, Sander acts like everything they ever touched while together it’s theirs, a part of the background of the greatest love story ever made.

“Is it open?” He raises his eyebrows, looking at Sander.

“Yeah, I think so. How much of a gathering can you do inside a hotel bedroom?” Sander teases and Robbe laughs, holding his jacket tighter.

“I don’t know, man…”

Sander exhales, talking slower now, clearly interested in going to the hotel. “But it’s just the two of us, I’m sure it’s not a problem.” He lets the idea stir inside Robbe’s head before asking: “Shall we go?”

Robbe looks at Sander’s lips again, wanting to taste so bad. Sander leans down, resting his forehead against Robbe’s and he closes his eyes, feeling calm now that Sander is close again.

“Yeah.”

Sander nods his head and kisses Robbe’s forehead, stepping back without giving him one single real kiss.

“Hey!” He says before he can remember he was the one asking for space minutes ago.

Sande gives him a cocky smile.

“What?”

“You know what.”

Robbe steps closer again and Sander looks at him, quietly putting his hands on Robbe’s cheeks, making him look up, brushing their lips together and Robbe doesn’t wait, licking his hips, deepening the kiss.

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