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Sportacus was good at many things, but he would readily admit he wasn’t the most observant person in town.
There were things he would miss, the occasional secrets hidden right in front of his eyes. Most of the time, his optimism and good-will prevented him from going as far as thinking beyond the obvious, sometimes, he could even be naïve, there was no shame in admitting that. When one believed in the best in everyone, one was left open, which he didn’t mind, really.
Still, he wasn’t as oblivious as people sometimes believed, and if even he noticed that Lazytown’s villain was doing his best avoiding him, then it had to be bad.
There had been days when no one saw Robbie before, so that wasn’t what set Sportacus off. It wasn’t the villain’s lack of plots either, since those had got less frequent lately, even before he had started avoiding Sportacus. If someone asked, Sportacus wouldn’t be able to explain it; it was a feeling, low in his gut, an unsettling cramp that made him realise just how little he had talked to Robbie the last days, even weeks.
Which was so unlike Robbie that Sportacus couldn’t help but worry.
Robbie rarely shut up. Sometimes it was easy to tell when someone was trying to get attention, no matter how, and every inch of Robbie’s body and behaviour, from his posture, facial expressions and gestures, demanded it. Some would call him overly dramatic, which he was, without a doubt, but Sportacus felt there was a reason for what Robbie did. It bordered on acts of desperation.
For him to be completely absent, therefore, was odd.
If it wasn’t for the fact that his crystal had not once gone off, no matter how hard he glared at it to pick something – anything – up, he would be worried that Robbie was in danger. But the crystal hadn’t vibrated, punishing him with smug silence for his inability to make the first move.
Alright, his reasons for wondering why Robbie was avoiding him weren’t entirely selfless.
There was… something between the two of them, something words weren’t adequate for. Hell, Sportacus himself wasn’t sure either what it was; he only knew that there was something. It was different from the friendship he had with the kids and the almost-fatherly feelings he had for Stephanie. It was similar and completely different at the same time.
Apparently, his crystal knew Sportacus’ emotions better than the elf himself, because Sportacus could swear the thing was displeased with him. If it had eyes, it would regard him with the judgmental gaze of someone tired of being the only sane person in the room.
The very same look Robbie sometimes threw at Sportacus.
The crystal on Sportacus’ chest did not start glowing or beeping, but vibrated, faintly, which was as close to a shove as an inanimate sentient magical crystal could get. It made Sportacus sigh.
Five days without Robbie and slowly the elf was feeling itchy to do something.
Out of respect for him, Sportacus had not invaded his lair, but it was a close thing. Even if he didn’t have those feelings, he’d be worried. Robbie had not once left his home, if one could call it that; the hatch had stayed close throughout the whole week, Sportacus had checked.
‘More like spent most of the time he wasn’t busy saving citizen staring at the hatch from his airship.’
Sleep cycle be damned, he was concerned. Though he had somewhat managed to convince himself he would do the same for everyone else, the crystal didn’t buy it.
Sometimes he wondered why his predecessor hadn’t mentioned the thing’s attitude problems.
His reasons weren’t entirely selfless, he knew that, even without being reminded.
Sportacus absently rubbed the bracer on his left arm, imagining the faint lines that were hidden underneath, the ink that formed a signature under his skin.
Everyone had a soulmate, no matter their species. It worked a bit differently, he had found after wondering why the children didn’t have any, but the principle was the same. Stephanie had explained to him that the soul marks of humans only appeared when they fell in love with their intended, unlike elves who were marked from a young age on, even without having met their mate.
Just like Sportacus, whose mark had appeared when he had barely been four years old.
He lowered his head to look at the bracer, imagining it was off and he could see the mark, read the name.
It wasn’t the right name.
It wasn’t the name he wanted to be written on his wrist.
Sportacus clenched his fist and the crystal vibrated at him. He resolutely ignored it and jumped on his feet, stretching for the sake of having something to do.
When the crystal began beeping, apparently not liking that he was ignoring it and its wisdom, Sportacus took it from his chest and held it up so he could see it.
“Look, I know you’re unhappy about the situation, but so am I.” He said to it, and tried not to think about how ridiculous it must have looked to someone who didn’t understand the intricate workings of elven technology. “There’s nothing I can do, so stop beeping at me. He… he deserves a soulmate, not someone who might love him now, but is destined to be with someone else. It wouldn’t be fair to him.”
At that, the crystal had nothing to say. Sportacus would have considered that a victory, but he wasn’t in the mood. Metaphorical tail down, he jumped over the wall and landed on a bench, his eyes scanning the playground.
The children were at Pixel’s, as far as he knew, which he welcomed. They might not move much while playing video games, but he needed some alone-time. Some time to think. Besides, they, especially Stephanie, would notice something was wrong. He didn’t want to trouble them with his love life, or rather lack of it.
Sportacus sat down on the bench and played with the crystal in his hands.
Falling in love with Robbie Rotten had been easier than he would have thought. It had happened slowly, the feelings creeping up on him until it was already too late to push them away again. He had not thought about what might happen, that he might fall in love, when he had slowly and gradually inserted himself into Robbie’s life.
At first, he had just checked in on the other man every once in a while, to see if he was okay, to try and animate him to do some sports, eat healthy food, and because the thought of Robbie sitting alone in his dark lair, alone, had hurt.
The first few times he had shown up, Robbie had told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want Sportacus here. About the tenth time, he had chosen to ignore the elf. The fifteenth, Sportacus had shown up to find Robbie unable to sleep for the third consecutive day in a row. He still remembered the dark circles under Robbie’s eyes; the pain that was radiating off of him in waves so strong they nearly knocked Sportacus off his feet, the tiredness in his eyes.
Whether Robbie had wanted it or not, Sportacus had stayed. His crystal had not gone off, but only because he had already been there, sitting at Robbie’s side and talking about his day.
The first hour or so, it had been Sportacus monologuing, talking about everything he could think of. After a while, Robbie had started making a comment here and there, snarky huffs without any heat, until they were talking, properly communicating.
Sportacus still counted it as a win that Robbie had dozed off after a while, some of the tension he always carried with him gone.
A week later, when Sportacus had shown up for his next visit, Robbie had set aside a small chair for him without comment.
Looking back at the time they spent together, Sportacus can almost certainly point out the exact moment he had fallen in love.
His evening talks with Robbie had become more frequent, to the point he had pushed back his sleeping routine a bit to make time for it. He hadn’t, and still did not, regret doing that, for it meant spending more time with Robbie without him yawning every now and then. Robbie had even begun storing ordinary milk, without chocolate, for Sportacus to drink.
They had been sitting like they always had before, talking about something, Sportacus couldn’t remember. What he remembered vividly, as if it had been burnt into his memory, was how Robbie had laughed at something Sportacus said.
Sportacus had never seen Robbie laugh before. Robbie barely smiled, unless he was being sarcastic or smug, but a laugh had been even rarer. Seeing the corners of Robbie’s lips curl up and his shoulders shake, hearing the carefree, joyful noise that left the villain’s mouth, Sportacus had been unable and unwilling to pull his eyes away.
He had never seen anything more beautiful.
It had been at this moment that he realised he had fallen in love.
A second later, feelings of guilt and horror had washed over him and his hands had started trembling, nearly making him let go of the glass. Because as much as he wanted to reach out and run his fingers through Robbie’s hair, coax more noises like that from him, he knew he shouldn’t. He wasn’t Robbie’s soulmate.
It would only end in heartbreak and tears.
Sportacus was pulled out of his thoughts by the characteristic beeping of his crystal. Without thinking, automatically, he said “Someone’s in trouble” before pausing.
Even he wasn’t sure how exactly the crystal worked. He’s never been interested in the mechanisms that make it work like it does and he doubted anyone could give a definite answer. His predecessor, for example, had explained how the crystal gave its users visions of the person in danger, but that wasn’t the case for Sportacus at all.
He knew, deep in his heart, who and where the person was. His intuition led him.
Right now, it led him to Robbie’s lair.
“Are you teasing me?” He asked the crystal quietly, but it just blinked indignantly. “Right, no teasing then. What has he got himself into now?”
Unfortunately, for all its powers, the crystal couldn’t give him an answer to that. It only let him know that Robbie wasn’t in serious danger, but still, he hurried. It definitely wasn’t because he now had an excuse for entering Robbie’s lair, absolutely not.
For once, the crystal didn’t correct him.
The hatch was open, as Sportacus had known the whole time. He climbed down the pipe, listening intently for some kind of noise, anything that would show him Robbie was still alive.
His crystal would have told him if Robbie had died, right? Sportacus looked down at the crystal, which was, once again, at its place on his chest, but couldn’t imagine it being so cruel. He didn’t know whether it could lie to him or not, but wasn’t too keen on finding it out either.
Sportacus climbed out of the pipe and nearly collapsed from the breath he released upon seeing Robbie sit in his orange chair, seemingly alive and well.
If that was the case, however, Sportacus’ crystal wouldn’t be beeping.
The hero let his gaze wander through the room, but couldn’t find any source of danger. No machine was exploding, Robbie didn’t look like he was injured, he was sitting safe and sound in his fuzzy chair.
‘So what is wrong?’
It hit Sportacus after stepping closer and realising that Robbie hadn’t reacted to him being here. He hadn’t even looked up. Sportacus sought eye contact, but Robbie’s eyes were unfocused, looking right through him like Sportacus wasn’t even there. Lost in thought, Sportacus concluded, and hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking.
From up close, Robbie looked worse; worse than he had been the first time Sportacus had shown up at his lair because of the crystal. His hair wasn’t gelled back as it usually was, but was unkempt, curly and messy. If it was even possible, Robbie looked thinner than he had last time Sportacus had seen him. The dark circles under the villain’s eyes made him look sickish and pale, almost as white as…
Sportacus’ thoughts trailed off numbly as he realised that Robbie wasn’t wearing his normal attire, nor the pyjama Sportacus had seen him in a few times already. He had comfortable, saggy pants and some kind of sweatshirt, the colour doing nothing to make him less pale.
However, Sportacus thought, finding himself reaching out even though the rational part of his brain screamed at him not to, it helped make the black lines on Robbie’s wrist stand out even more.
A soul mark.
Something inside of Sportacus contracted painfully. Robbie had a soulmate. He was in love with someone.
Sportacus didn’t know why the thought upset him so much, when he had no right to, bearing the mark of a man he had never met and didn’t want to, not when Robbie was here, with him, being everything what Sportacus wanted.
The crystal vibrated weakly against his chest. His mind was in such a mess, he couldn’t even have attempted to understand what it wanted from him now. On autopilot, he stepped closer, turning his head so he could read the name on Robbie’s wrist.
It was a violation of privacy, but Sportacus couldn’t stop himself.
In retrospect, it took him longer than it should have to realise what he was staring at.
The signature was not messy like the one on Sportacus’ skin, but neat, carefully written. Less artistic, more practical. Sportacus reached out with his index finger, trailing the lines as if he had done it a thousand times before.
Which he had. There, on Robbie’s wrist, the edges still red, almost like it had appeared only recently and hadn’t fully healed yet, stood his own name. Sportacus.
Sportacus’ brain came to a standstill. He stares, and suddenly Robbie is staring back at him, and then Sportacus is being pushed backwards with barely enough strength to make him wobble. His mind snapped back into focus, catching sight of a figure attempting to get past him to the pipe, and he reacted automatically, reaching out to catch Robbie’s arm.
It felt like hours passed as the two just stood there, Robbie struggling to get free, and Sportacus struggling to understand what was going on.
In reality, it was only seconds before Robbie spoke up. His voice was hoarse, from crying or misuse, Sportacus couldn’t tell.
“Go ahead.”
“Pardon?”
“Go ahead. Laugh, or shout. I don’t particularly care what you do, just get over with it.”
Sportacus frowned. “Why would I do that?”
Robbie sneered at him. “You just found out that the town’s pathetic villain is in love with you. If that isn’t a good reason to make fun of me or express your disgust, I don’t know what you are waiting for.” Sportacus opened his mouth to reply, but Robbie cut him off. “Not only is he in love with you, but you’re also his soulmate, isn’t that great? Even more material to mock me!”
Sportacus was so surprised his grip around Robbie’s arm weakened, allowing the villain to slip free. Instead of making a run for it, he turned to his work table, grabbed something and threw it on the ground. There was a loud clash as the wires, nuts and metallic chunks flew through the air, as glass shattered and was further crushed beneath Robbie’s foot as he stormed forward.
Sportacus prepared himself for an attack, but Robbie just brushed past him, all the while muttering under his breath.
“I’m rotten,” Robbie hissed as he wiped his arm over one of the tables, sending everything that had been on it to the floor. “Everything I touch, I destroy. I’m some kind of freak, and the universe decides it hasn’t punished me enough already, no, it needs to add even more cruelty by making me fall in love with the one person I cannot have.”
Robbie’s foot went through a screen and Sportacus winced; it didn’t look like Robbie had hurt himself, but he might if he went on like this. But Sportacus was frozen, unable to move even a muscle.
“The one person-“ Another gadget was smashed. “- that has ever been kind to me.” Robbie whirled around, finding his next target. Bam, another machine went on the floor. “The one person I cannot have, because he is too good for me. He is pure-“ Sportacus quickly took the hammer before Robbie could get to it, hiding it behind his back. Robbie glared at him. “- and good, and kind, and likeable –“ Robbie stepped forward, long legs moving in long strides until he stood right in front of Sportacus, only inches apart. The elf could see tears in Robbie’s eyes, threatening to spill. “- and perfect. And I am not. I am rotten, I am bad, I’m nothing and he is everything, and I’m… I’m…”
Sportacus almost took it as a blessing that Robbie finally broke.
One moment Robbie had been standing in front of him, the next he was on the floor, crumbled, sobbing and hugging himself. Sportacus quickly followed, getting on his knees without thought, and pulled Robbie close, hugging him with trembling arms and teary eyes.
For once, Robbie didn’t protest. He curled in on himself, all but rolling into a ball, and continued to cry. “I thought maybe I could find a way to make the mark go away,” Robbie sobbed. “To un-love you, but there is none. I tried. I tried. I tried scratching it away, but it wouldn’t go, no matter how deep I clawed. I tried…”
Sportacus hugged Robbie harder, cradling him against his chest. He blinked away the tears, but they rolled down his cheeks anyway, because of too many reasons to even start listing them. He couldn’t believe Robby would believe any of the things he had said; couldn’t even fathom why those thoughts were there in the first place.
Then Sportacus remembered seeing strange scars on Robbie’s arms, and he thought he could understand better.
“Ssh,” Sportacus hummed, rubbing Robbie’s back soothingly. “You’re not rotten, Robbie. You’re not any of the things you’ve just called yourself.”
“But-“
“And even if you were bad,” Sportacus continued, “that wouldn’t make me love you any less.”
Robbie’s body went completely still under Sportacus’ arms. The elf briefly wondered whether he had said anything wrong, but then Robbie was already looking up at him, and the confusion on the other man’s face made Sportacus want to sob.
“Y-you love me? B-But why?”
Sportacus tried to smile, but it was a half-baked, pathetic attempt at one. “Because I do,” he simply said. Robbie’s eyes narrowed, like they always did when he was presented with something he couldn’t understand. “Because I love you, even though I shouldn’t. Because even though there’s another name than yours on my wrist, I love you, and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”
He expected Robbie to say something, push him away – Sportacus only knew how elves felt about relationships between non-soulmates, but couldn’t imagine it was much different for humans – in disgust, but Robbie did neither. He furrowed his eyebrows, wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, and then reached down. Sportacus didn’t stop him, too dumbfounded and confused, when Robbie undid the bracers, put them aside and studied Sportacus’ mark.
Both were silent, the only noise that could be heard their breathing.
Finally, after what felt like ages, Robbie looked back up. Sportacus’ confusion only grew when he saw something akin to joy in Robbie’s eyes, where just moments before there had been so much sadness and grief Sportacus wondered how anyone could survive with that on their shoulders.
He wanted to ask what was going on, but Robbie was suddenly moving forward, and then there were lips on Sportacus’, and the thought didn’t seem all that important anymore.
The kiss was somewhat messy and wet, both of them tasting like salty tears. Still, it was perfect and more than Sportacus had ever imagined.
Their lips moved together as if made to be together. It was slow, but hard, desperation and a cocktail of emotions seeping in through the edges.
When Robbie pulled away to breathe, his lips swollen red, Sportacus’ heart did a funny thing and his brain stuttered. It rebooted, as Pixel would have said, with difficulty, parts of him refusing, or unable, to think about anything other than that Robbie had just kissed him.
There was, however, a tiny voice in Sportacus’ head which he recognised as his conscience telling him he had to speak up, even if it hurt.
“But…” Sportacus trailed off, not getting much further. His gaze slid back down to the name that was under his skin, the scribbled black lines that read a name that wasn’t Robbie’s, and hoped Robbie would understand.
Robbie rolled his reddened eyes and looked at Sportacus as if, in this moment, he was very much tempted to take his hammer and see if he could pound intelligence into Sportacus’ brain by hitting it hard and often enough. Sportacus preferred that look over the hollow and haunted gaze he had seen before. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Robbie Rotten isn’t my birth name?”
Sportacus heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t sure whether the way his pulse had skyrocketed was healthy; he flexed his fingers absently, quenching the instinct to reach out and pull Robbie close again.
‘Don’t get your hopes up yet.’
But Sportacus couldn’t push down the hope that had flared up the moment those words had left Robbie’s mouth, even if he wanted to. It was there, making his heart beat so rapidly his chest felt too small and weak to contain it.
Realising he was staring, Sportacus cleared his throat, feeling his neck heat up. “Why are you using a different name?” He finally asked when Robbie narrowed his eyes at him.
The villain didn’t answer right away. For someone who was a master of disguise and a decent-enough actor, Robbie’s face betrayed his emotions all too well when he was just himself. Sportacus could read his hesitation in the way Robbie bit his lower lip, worrying it between his teeth. He could see something like fear flash in the grey eyes of the taller man, a glazed look that saw right through everything. The already tense body seemed to tense up only more, something Sportacus hadn’t thought was possible.
Sportacus opened his mouth to say something, but Robbie beat him to it.
“I don’t like my name, okay?” Robbie turned his head away, but even this way Sportacus noticed the tremble in his lower lip, as if he was trying not to cry. It took all of Sportacus’ self-control and restraint not to close the gap between them and hug him. “It… reminds me of him…”
There were a thousand things Sportacus wanted to ask, but didn’t. If he had, Robbie would just have closed off again, raise up the wall that hid everything behind a sneer and anger. He could have lost him before he had the chance to even have him.
Instead of all the questions in Sportacus’ head, he chose to ask the one that nagged him the most. “What is your birth name, Robbie?”
He didn’t know how long there came no reply, but when it did, Sportacus nearly missed it because of the sound of his own blood rushing behind his ears as he heard it. Sportacus’ mind blanked out and he lowered his head to stare at the mark.
Glanni Glæpur.
How often he had hoped, prayed to whoever was listening, that it was wrong. That the name which had appeared in his childhood wasn’t the right one. How often he had dreamed of waking up and finding Robbie’s handwriting on his arm, where it was supposed to be, not the signature of a stranger he didn’t even want to meet, because his soul mate was already there.
Never would he have thought that he had been right and wrong at the same time.
Sportacus looked up when a shadow fell over him. Robbie had scooted closer again, hand raised in a silent, tentative question. Sportacus nodded and held his arm up.
Robbie reached out, his spidery, thin fingers curling loosely around Sportacus’ wrist. With the index finger of his other hand, he began tracing the black lines, writing them himself. Sportacus could imagine him singing something, leaving elegant lines of ink behind on paper.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the feeling of Robbie’s fingers drawing on his skin, sending shivers up his arm.
“I would have never imagined that…” Robbie trailed off.
“Neither had I,” Sportacus admitted. “If I had known this was your name-“
“It is not,” Robbie interrupted him sharply. The glazed look was back, but this time Robbie focused on him, grey boring into blue. Sportacus swallowed. He’d do all in his power to ensure Robbie would never have a reason to look so utterly vulnerable and broken again. Never again. “I’m Robbie Rotten, not…” He tapped Sportacus’ mark.
Robbie didn’t say more, but Sportacus understood.
Carefully and slowly, so Robbie could see what he was doing, Sportacus reached out and wrapped an arm around Robbie’s waist, pulling him closer. He had hugged him just moments before, but the situation was different now, and he didn’t want to presume. Robbie tensed at first, struggling against the pull, but then let himself lean against Sportacus, his head falling on the elf’s shoulder. Sportacus ran his fingers along Robbie’s spine, up between his shoulder blades and to his neck, where he let his hand come to a stop.
“You are and have always been my Robbie,” Sportacus murmured soothingly. Hoping Robbie wouldn’t mind, he slipped his fingers into the soft black hair at the base of Robbie’s nape, slowly petting him. He hadn’t known Robbie had curly hair like him. The discovery made him feel like a child at Christmas. “And you’ll always be just that. My Robbie.”
“Someone enjoys saying that a bit too much,” came Robbie’s muffled comment from Sportacus’ shoulder, but he sounded amused, lively even, and slowly the tension drained from his body.
Sportacus ran his fingers along Robbie’s scalp and positively preened as it drew a content sigh from the other. Supporting his weight – for someone who ate so much junk food and candy, Robbie was ridiculously thin – Sportacus brought them both back on their feet, walked over to Robbie’s chair and sat on it, leaving enough space for Robbie to get on as well, if he wanted.
Robbie hesitated only for a fragment of a second, before sliding in next to him. There barely was enough space for both of them, forcing them to cuddle close, but Sportacus didn’t mind and Robbie wasn’t complaining. The villain’s head fell back on Sportacus’ shoulder, arms awkwardly pulled against his own chest until Sportacus pulled them over his stomach.
“Maybe I do,” he said after a few moments of them lying there. He could feel Robbie lift his head to look up. Sportacus smiled softly and met Robbie’s eyes, heart swelling in his chest at the uncertainty and faint glimmers of hope that sparkled in them. Before he could really think about it, he leant down, pressing his lips in a soft kiss to Robbie’s. He drew away almost immediately again, smile widening as he saw that Robbie’s cheeks had taken on a faint pink tone. “But that’s not why I am going to repeat it even when you grow tired of it. No, I’m going to say it over and over again until one day you believe me.”
Robbie didn’t reply, but Sportacus hadn’t expected him to. Robbie’s eyes said more than a thousand words could ever convey.
Sportacus pulled him closer, until Robbie was lying half on top of him, and drew circles on his back.
It didn’t take long until soft snoring came from where Robbie’s face was pressed to Sportacus’ chest. Sportacus fell asleep soon after, securely holding his soul mate in his arms.
The crystal vibrated and it almost felt like a purr.