Work Text:
Robert first sees him in the sciences hallway.
The blond boy with the seemingly sparkling blue eyes meets gazes with him before entering Mr. Bradford’s classroom.
Robert, in a burst of unexpected emotion, makes his way to the classroom and glances in through his peripheral vision.
Robert knows the exact moment he falls in love.
*
Days later, James begins pestering him.
“So, who is it this time?” he asks casually as the two of them make their way to his house in the cold.
“What do you mean, ‘this time’?” Robert says, insulted.
“I mean, ‘this time’; after that dancer, the poor guitarist, the depressed ice skater-” James begins, recounting just a few of Robert’s past affairs.
“It’s not like that,” he states, scuffing his shoes against the sidewalk.
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” Robert insists. “He’s different.”
James just scoffs.
*
Robert, as rash as always, decides to approach the nameless beauty as soon as he sees him again.
Which turns out to be December 21st, New Years Eve.
“4!”
Robert catches sight of a blonde head on his way to the bathroom.
“3!”
He pushes his way through the crowd of people in various levels of intoxication until his hand can grasp the boy’s shoulder.
“2!”
The boy turns and Robert unconsciously shivers from the feeling of those sparkling blue eyes focusing on him.
“1!”
Robert opens his mouth to say something - he can’t remember what - when the mass of people behind him push him forward in their hurry to jump and scream.
“Happy New Years!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”
“2013!”
The next thing he knows, his chapped lips are melting against soft and pliant ones.
There are no shocking fireworks behind his closed lips. Instead, their grows a slow, aching burn. And he doesn’t just feel it on his lips, but somewhere in his chest.
It’s like nothing he’s ever experienced. It’s so much better.
*
Instead of a violent push backward, as Robert had resigned himself to after realizing he and the nameless boy were lip-locked, he feels warm hands reach for his temple and pull their faces away oh-so-slightly.
Robert becomes so entranced with the shining face centimeters away from his own, that he pays no mind to the loud crowd of drunkards celebrating around them both.
*
The blonde boy is in the exact same place Robert first saw him.
And the sight of him standing there, somewhat expectantly, in addition to the fact that Robert’s tired of playing this roundabout game, forces him to move his feet.
“Hello, I’m Robert Frobisher.”
Sparkling blue eyes widen in what Robert hopes to be enthusiasm.
“Hi, I’m Sixsmith. Rufus Sixsmith.”
In the end, Robert doesn’t mind being counted tardy to his Music Composition class.