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The guilt is drifting off Roland in waves. Inigo can feel it, like it really is being transmitted across the entire room. And even though he's definitely glad that the other is doing something about it, it's not like Inigo wanted him to feel guilty over it.

It's not as if the older guy was doing something wrong. Not from Inigo's point of view, anyway. He just wanted to protect his son. Nothing wrong with that. Besides, it must be hard - Roland having to adjust to not only have one son much more actively in his life, but now having another one from another world to deal with as well.

So he reaches out, Inigo's hand landing on Roland's shoulder.

"Father. It's alright. You were trying to keep him safe because you love him. I get that. I think Will does too." Sure, his little brother may be the one more likely to protest these things, but Inigo thinks he's plenty smart for his age. He may have missed a lot of school, but he has good common sense.

Inigo takes out the new phone, putting it in the palm of Roland's hand with a smile.

"Don't blame yourself, alright? We're fixing it now! I'll talk to Will, so don't worry about that."

When the item is deposited in his hand, Roland is already stood from the chair and a kiss is planted directly on Inigo's forehead before he utters a quick, "Okay, be right back. Thanks." And off he goes into the other corner of the room, hidden behind a wall that connects one area to the next. A faint voice can be heard after a while, Roland's own as he goes about the mandatory greetings that eventually lead up to a change of plans, as promised.

Meanwhile, Will is patiently waiting on the other end of the line. As Inigo removes the mute from both audio and video, the kid can be seen only partially. The top of his head with hair sticking out as if he had just tumbled in bed, and he seems to be reciting words from a storybook, unaware that he's no longer on hold.

'- but the queen was corrupted by the twelve who used her magic to...oh!' He perks up right away, adjusting the camera so he's on full ~~FaceTime~~ view with Inigo. It seems Roland and Inigo's huddle lasted long enough that he was able to change into pajamas, striped and oversized for a small frame.

'What happened, big bro? Are you guys okay?'

"Totally fine!"

It's a good thing that Inigo shifts easily in these situations. Sure, it helps that his conversation with Roland ended well, but there's still some worry about his father that he has to surpress now in order to be able to flash Will a big smile. He manages - it somehow feels easier to do it for Will's sake, maybe since his instinct to protect his little brother is so strong.

"Sorry that we took a while. Father apparently has some stuff he needs to discuss-- you know, the usual." Inigo makes a hand gesture, though it's all said with a joking edge, like an in-joke only the two of them are in on. It's true though - Will knows just as well as him about Roland's habits, if not better. And they're a good excuse as to why the guy is out of the picture - quite literally! - for the moment.

"He'll be right back though! And hey, in the meantime-- what story were you reading, huh? You seemed to be getting really into it!"

'Oh...who was at the door, then? Did you end up ordering takeout after all?' The little boy frowns, puffing up one cheek in mild annoyance. 'I told daddy to read more books about cooking! Like me! I read lots of them! I know how to make eggs in three different ways, big bro!' Scrambled, sunny-side, and boiled. Take that, Roland.

(Said guy is still on the phone, his voice progressively getting quieter and quieter, as if...whispering. Pleading.)

In the meantime, Will latches on to the thing that piques his passion the most, and that's when his new brother talks about his favorite storybook of all time. The smile on his face looks to mimic the brightness of Inigo's own, regardless if the older teen is trying his best to distract Will from the real issue: being isolated when the whole point of immersing him in summer camp was to help him get reacquainted with kids his own age.

'It's my faaaavorite book of all time! I want to read it with you when I come back! Okay?' Will sits cross-legged now, the phone held in both hands close to his face. It seems he doesn't even need to read from the book to tell Inigo all about it; so often has he repeated the story that it's practically his creed.

'The whole story is about this little girl and she's a princess, right? But then, her dad the king, he dies and so she has to be the next queen! She's even younger than me though, so she doesn't know what to do! And and and, and then these bad guys called the Zodiarchs come and try to raise her to be a Queen, but they keep blaming all the bad stuff they do on her, so people start disliking her! It's really terrible!'

The animated way he performs the words with his hands and the rising and falling of eyebrows, smiles, and frowns, is the complete opposite of Roland's own still and deliberate movements. Will really is just a kid.

'Y'know why she's super special though, big bro? It's because she's a really strong magician! She even had a magic teacher!' Will adds this last bit as if sharing a secret, even though the story isn't quite so, and it can only really end one particular way. The wonder in which he engages someone like Inigo is unmistakable, however: 'Big bro, do you wish you had magic powers too? I wish I could use magic like Queen Cassiopeia!'

There are a lot of things Inigo could do right now, but he's abandoning them all in favour of focusing on the current topic Will is going on about - figuring that it's probably what'd distract the boy the most at the moment, that'll keep him the happiest. He'll just defend Roland's cooking skills (or, well, the ones he's.. working on..) and his dedication to doing everything right for his son(s) in his heart instead, rather than distracting Will with it, making him think of less pleasant things.

It softens Inigo's smile a little as all those other feelings flood his heart though.

"Well, I'm not so sure about me.." Although he has to admit his perspective on magic is much different than Will's. Inigo comes from a world where it's normal, after all, though he can see why it'd be so special to a kid like Will now Inigo is trying to adjust to a world where it's nowhere to be seen. "But you do though, huh?"

Somewhere in the distance Inigo can faintly hear Roland speaking. Soft enough that he knows Will can't hear, but that means it's also soft enough that Inigo can't make out the words the other is saying, only the tone he's using. Something about the pleading makes his chest ache, and Inigo has to seriously surpress the urge to look over to the side to offer Roland any reassuring looks - Will would notice, after all. He'll just have to make sure to show Roland his appreciation later. Once they're both done doing what they can for the beloved other member of their family.

"Tell your big brother. What would you want to use magic for if you had it?"

Perhaps it's a good thing that Will was neither questioning where Roland was, nor shy about how he feels given that Inigo is so openly kind to him. That no matter how difficult it might have seemed at first for two kids to bridge the gap between age and world, they're here now, a budding relationship neither expected would blossom as it has. The grin on the younger's face is unmistakably happy, even if behind his innocent eyes lies a more experienced boy...one who has seen the worst of life's circumstances.

So when he says what he does to Inigo, it's not for any sort of blind faith that he makes the declaration. He says it because in spite of it all, his sickness and living majority of his life in a similar despair that Inigo might recognize.

'I'd use it to help as many people as I could! I'd work real hard on it like in the storybooks! I'd help you, and daddy, and the people daddy works hard for too!'

Just as these words come out of the phone's speaker, Roland wraps up his own conversation, a look of relief at the close of the call he takes in private. Bits and pieces of the conversation coming into Inigo's hearing - thank you's and I apologize-for-the-inconveniences. Will though, is none the wiser of what's really going on behind the scenes.

His smile turns a shade fonder, and the stare in his eyes shine with a glimpse of wonder. As if the more he speaks to Inigo, the more he can't believe at how things have changed, and how he's gained someone new in a family long fractured.

'I'm really happy you're here with us, big bro Inigo. You're the best.'

The timing is just right, with a hand that suddenly rests against Inigo's shoulder, warm and gentle. Whether or not Roland catches that from the call is a mystery, or that it doesn't quite matter anyway, bending by the waist to show his face right back.

"Hey, sorry. I'm back from, ah. A little errand I ran." Roland turns to the side, catching Inigo's eye. "I have a surprise for you. Might be better if Inigo tells you. It was his idea, after all."

He whispers something into Inigo's ear, smiling. That everything has been settled, and strings were once again pulled. The Secret Service would stay to protect Will, but would be out of sight completely. And most importantly, Will has been transferred out of the private cabin, and back into the group he was assigned to, complete with bunker beds and campfires in each hut.

With kids his own age, to know and play with.

Roland really came back just in time. Because even with as fond of Will as Inigo has quickly grown to be, there's no way he knows how to deal with those compliments. It's hard for him to take them coming from anyone, after all, let alone from Will. When they're delivered with this level of enthusiasm and honesty. How can he accept that he's the best when Inigo knows he's far from it?

But that's why Roland is his guardian angel today. Either knowingly or unknowingly protecting Inigo from having to reply to that, instead offering up another angle to the conversation. And a rather relieving one at that. It eases the smile on Inigo's face some.

"Hmmm," he hums, like he's about to share some secret with Will. Meanwhile he's using his hand to properly tug Roland over, urging him to sit back down again. Mostly because of what he's about to say.

"I think your father is not giving himself enough credit here, Will." Because even if Inigo suggested it, Roland still went along with it in the end. Still metaphorically went on his knees to ensure it was possible in the first place. Inigo couldn't have done any of that himself and he knows it.

So of course he's going to drag Roland into this too. Will deserves to know what his father does for him, when it comes down to it. How much his father cares for him.

"We made sure you don't have to stay there by yourself anymore. They're going to place you in another cabin, with some of the other kids." He smiles, looking at the screen. "Does that sound fun? You guys could tell stories together, rather than having to read them on your own!"

He takes the cue and sits close enough to be seen without obstruction, listening with a smile that grows ever so wider the more Inigo speaks. He shakes his head as if in mock exasperation; cut from the same cloth these two were, such that any gesture given to one seemed to always be thrown back in reverence to the other. Will would need to be more patient with them both, it seems.

Thankfully, Will pipes up just in time so Roland doesn't have to say a word. And does the boy look happy - much happier than the start of his call to check up on his new family, eyes grown so wide that the rest of his expression follows suit. Then, suddenly, with an explosive energy only a child could provide, he jumps up the bed and the phone falls somewhere by the wayside. The view becomes that of his two feet bouncing against a flimsy mattress, causing Roland to shift from amused to totally concerned.

'Yippee! I'm gonna be a part of a study group! I'm gonna go with the other kids! Big bro, daddy, thank you thank you thank you - !'

Roland isn't helping by talking over him, the smooth connection between two phones totally interrupted by One Dad trying not to helicopter parent. He may or may not be standing again, as if that solves or does anything to address the situation on the other side of town.

"William Crane, please do not jump on your bed! You might fall and hurt yourself - !"

It falls on deaf ears, as Roland turns to Inigo then back to the phone, wondering what best to do as Will continues his parade. At some point, he leaves the frame of the video call and audibly runs around the room, shouting from the top of his lungs, feet heavy against creaky wooden floors.

'We're gonna make stew, we're gonna make smores, we're gonna make - '

The video call drops, whether by accident or by design. And then there was silence as Roland blinks, slowly sinking back down on his seat. Turning to Inigo with a neutral look on his face, though his eyes tell the story of someone in shock of the events that just took place.

"I..." Roland starts off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um. Should...we call back?"

Inigo is trying really hard to not look too amused at this, since Roland's concern about the kid is pretty obvious. But to Inigo that energy is just cute. It's so unbridled, so innocent. Inigo wonders if he was like that too, before everything happened. (A thought that makes him feel so much older than he really is.)

Still, he can't fully surpress the smile on his face when Roland pipes up again after the connection is broken.

"No, just leave him to celebrate for a little bit. I'm sure he'll call back himself if he finds some time to talk."

As if only now realising his bowl of cereal is a thing that still exists, Inigo drags it closer towards himself, shoving a spoonful of it in his mouth. Thankfully it can't go cold, since it was cold to start with..

"Look how happy you made him though."

"I think it's fair to say we made him happy."

Though if one were to ask, Roland would have given all the credit to Inigo. He says as much when he takes up his own bowl, sipping milk from the rim. He has his moments too, especially when he's comfortable. One of these days though, he'll need to treat Inigo to a better meal than this...Maybe take up Will on his offer to make stew from what he's learned.

"I don't think I could have done that if you hadn't...Well, showed me what I did wrong." He immediately wipes off the milk mustache that forms on his top lip against the back of his hand. There's a sheepish energy that thrums about Roland now, but he hides it well behind a chuckle and a rub to the back of his neck. The bowl is emptied out and set aside, both hands now free to lean on his knees as if in thought. For a time, the moment passes with only the clinking of Inigo's spoon against the bowl to fill in the silence.

When he finally does speak again, the smile on his face lightens somewhat, and he peers up at Inigo, gaze seeking.

"I'm still kind of new at this, to be honest." Roland says, free to speak in the presence of someone who has seen most of his inner world. There's no hiding no. "You're helping me more than you realize."

Whether he means Inigo's latent talent for kid-whispering or the fact that his presence alone soothes the troubles that ail him as a father trying to make amends after years of absence, is up to question for anyone. Perhaps with the way he sounds though, Roland could be referring to both. It just drives home the desire to ensure Inigo doesn't regret a single day of choosing here to settle his roots; that this is the world he stops and rests for good.

Under any other circumstances, they'd be weird words to hear from someone Roland's age. From someone who has a son Will's age. Being new to this. Even though the bond of father and son between Roland and Will has existed for so long already.

But Inigo knows. He gets it. Even if his own father hadn't been away often too, Inigo would have realised there are circumstances that can keep fathers and sons apart, prevent them from fully forming such a bond in the first place. He knows why Roland says he's new to this. Because he is.

"I'm only glad if I can help," Inigo simply replies. He meets Roland's gaze when the other talks, though it drops to stare at the last remainders of his cereal, a small smile on his face. "Both of you deserve it. Will has been through so much, but.. you have too."

Between working his butt off and coming face to face with his city, his people, his son being wiped out right in front of him. Roland hasn't had it easy either.

"So I just want to bring you two together."

Inigo believes it'll fall in place naturally, the bond between Roland and Will. He's already seen it shift so much ever since they returned to Roland's world, after all. Even if Inigo wasn't here, they'd get there somehow - he sure likes to think so, anyway.

All he's doing is maybe making things happen a bit more quickly.

He looks back up. "I think it helps that it's easier for me to understand both of you."

Will since Inigo is closer in age to him, and since he too has been an abandoned son. And as for Roland-- well, what hasn't Inigo seen from the other during that long, long time they spent travelling on that train? If he didn't understand Roland by now, he'd surely never get there.

He doesn't want to get into the finer aspects of just how much he wants to refute Inigo at first. But part of knowing Roland is precisely that; playing down his own sorrows in order to prioritize the greater good. His story is not even a new one, and it wasn't unique in the sense that worlds away, many people have gone through the same thing, if not worse. The loss of nation, of country, and of homes; it's as universal as saving them. Even healed as he is, with a fresh start here with both his boys, it's not enough to reverse the harm done to his own soul. He'll never quite forgive himself, or remove that burden from his heart.

For now...For now he returns here, with Inigo, his hands reaching out to hold his own, cradled gently as if trying to communicate something words can't express. He pauses, lengthy and heavy with a sigh coloring his words.

He will have Inigo on his corner to help bridge what he could not repair on his own with his son. But...

The grip wrapped around Inigo's hand grows tighter. It helps indeed, that they've been together for a long time.

"And what about me and you?" Roland says quietly, under his breath. "Am I...Am I doing okay?"

For the role he's assumed. Between the two of them, Roland had no one else to rely on after all. Eventually, he'd need to stop relying on Inigo to bridge his gap with Will too. He's admitting all of this freely now, a changed man after all has been said and done. The look he mounts on his expression ages him down, as if he's still the same boyish twenty-year-old with insecurities he does his best to ignore.

There's something about this moment. Maybe it's in the way Roland clasps his hands between his own. Maybe it's his quiet tone. Maybe it's that look in his eyes - insecure and worried in a way that Inigo has seen before on Roland's face, but that hits him right in the heart each time.

Whatever specifically it is, it makes Inigo grow quiet for a moment as he just looks at the other, his eyes growing watery.

"Oh, father.. You've always been doing perfect."

Sure, it's not as if they have never had awkward moments before in the long time by now that they've known each other. But when faced with that question, this answer is the only thing Inigo can think of. Even down to the very first moment he met Roland - when none of this still existed between the two of them, the other already made him feel comforted. Reassured. Inigo remembers it so well, that it's almost as if he can see Roland's now true, more aged appearance melt right back down to that younger form Inigo first met him in, right in front of his eyes.

"You're the whole reason I'm still here." After all, what would Inigo have done without Roland? Without the other welcoming him into his home, into his world, as if it's all Inigo's own. As if he's always naturally belonged right here. Would he have been strong enough to make it without that reassurance that there would always be a home waiting for him, right there with Roland?

"I think you've got it the other way around, pup." There's a comfort he falls back on holding Inigo's hands in his, fingers nearly interlocked where they rest from beneath the other's palm. The entire affair that just played out between the two of them; Roland coming home early to spend time with him, the discoveries of new things together, disasters in the kitchen and seeing two of his sons in the same room somehow. Then having the privilege of seeing them again in person, living together with him under one roof.

"You saved me. You saved us. All of us. We're home, thanks to you and your promise to help me."

Oh, how long he's despaired over his fate. How long he's convinced himself that he'd have to work eternities longer to even earn a sliver of a chance to bring back what was once lost forever. And he was fully prepared in every single way to stay behind if it meant that there would come a time where Roland can finally make things right. He's got a long, long way to go to make it up to the people he's let down but...the little things remind him never to take this second chance for granted. That the person sitting in front of him now not only honors him by calling him father, but has redeemed him in a way he thought impossible.

Here they are now, waking up to better and brighter days as if their pasts were all but a dream. He doesn't know how else to express himself when this comes crashing down on him.

The emotion from Inigo carries over so well to Roland, waves upon waves of sentiment outpouring from their shared experiences, that he's compelled to lift his gaze fully to meet such unadulterated love. Then, as if in reverence, he bows, cranes his neck downwards until the panes of his forehead rest softly against the back of Inigo's hands.

Just as Inigo expresses himself the best with physical affection, so to does Roland seem to speak better when his actions do all the talking.

For everything Inigo has granted him, and for the moments that are yet to come, what else is a man like Roland to do but to say thank you?

It really doesn't feel fair to give this as much weight as Roland having accepted him into his fold. After all, it's not like Inigo feels like he's really done anything here. It was just pure luck that he happened to be a guy born into a family line that's connected to an ancient dragon - and one that was willing to grant him a favour after peace was restored to Ylisse. Not that it wasn't a good thing, and it's not like Inigo is infinitely grateful that Roland's world was able to return to its original state, but it doesn't feel like that's really something he should be thanked for.

Not to this extent, at least.

But who would he be to say that right now? When Roland is so genuinely grateful, so emotional. Inigo can't just shut all of that down in an instant. So he sniffs, the water still present in his eyes even though no tears are falling, and just stays quiet for a moment as the older man presses his forehead against his hands like that.

"Well.." He finally starts after a few moments, softly. "Let's just be happy that it all ended this way."

That they were somehow able to do it. Somehow able to create this life that feels ideal to Inigo. A cute little brother, a loving father, a world not torn apart by war and destruction. A place to stay - permanently.

"You know, sometimes it seems so good that it almost feels like a dream." Like it's a little too ideal. Especially since Inigo never ever expected things to end up in any good way for him. "But if that's the case, I really don't want to wake up."

Waking up? A dream? No, no Roland refuses that kind of talk, even in its symbolism. They've both worked too hard for it, wished and wanted beyond what their hearts could take. Now, the fight has been won and they could live together in peace. He lifts his head up from where it rests against Inigo's hands, a slight shake to dispel the idea. His words come hushed and hurried, but full of sentiment.

"It's not the end, though. Is it, Inigo?" He manages to smile up at him, eventually sitting back to form, shoulders straightened and chest out. The hands on him; no, he won't let go yet. "This is all just the beginning. Right? For you, for me, for Will." Eyes drift close, briefly, before deep browns catch the Brand that still marks Inigo's one pupil. "You're home at last. Let's make the most of it..." Then, Roland laughs, hearty like he won't usually do on regular days when at work or even in play. Opting silence or soft chuckles under his breath, today he's happy enough to chortle, glancing at their forgotten bowls.

"Even if we're starting out with cold cereal for dinner. Again. Anyway. There's always tomorrow."

And then next. And the next. And the next.

Maybe in this quiet, emotional moment, their hearts are on the same wavelength.

Because Roland doesn't say those words out loud, but it's as if Inigo can hear them too, echoing in his own heart. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and the next.

Future days that used to sprawl out in front of him, caked in dark red dried up blood, in dead bodies risen once more, in darkness and clouds and hidden pain. Days that felt endless, ones where he couldn't tell one day from the next, because it was all the same battle, it was all the same pain blending together.

Days that have now changed, dyed in the gold of the sun that has now finally slipped away past the horizon, instead leaving the sky a shade of dark satin, the stars like little pinpricks overhead. Days soaked in the big eyes Will has whenever he calls him big bro, in Roland's warm smile when he calls him 'son'.

"Yeah. You have a long time to practice until it's something better." They have a long time to practice living this way. To practice being happy. To relive the smiles they had to abandon such a long time ago.

Roland's warm hands linger on his, and Inigo can only think of one thing right now.

"I guess.. it's getting kind of dark already, so can we go cuddle in bed before we sleep?" Going to sleep right away would be a waste, after all, now they're able to fill Roland's bed up with two people, rather than Inigo going to sleep by himself.

Who would Inigo be if not for the boy who couldn't survive without constant touches, hugs and cuddles? Just because Grima was gone and the world was rid of warfare didn't mean that changed too. Roland is immediately tickled pink, rising from his seat while pulling Inigo up by the hand.

"Why did I have a feeling you were gonna say that? Heh." Because Inigo, at this point in their relationship, was predictable? Because Roland knows how to read him bit by bit, similar in ways he didn't think possible for two souls who just so happened to meet in a void, far far away from Earth? No, it's because he's already intuitively certain of what makes Inigo happy. The little things he hopes he can learn about Will one day too. He squeezes their joined hands one last time before he lets go, promptly returning to the abandoned phone and lending it to Inigo. Meanwhile, he takes the bowls cradled against his arm, walking to the sink.

"Why don't you send your brother a text? We'll catch up with him tomorrow? And that we hope he's enjoying himself now that he's in better company?" Clinking of glass and ceramic fill the kitchen; running water following close behind. He won't wash the dishes thoroughly tonight, but he'll rinse them briefly before they retreat upstairs. "I'm just about ready to cuddle and get settled in myself."

His predictability being pointed out to him like that colours Inigo's cheeks a little, and the moment the phone is handed to him once more, he cradled it to his chest, like it's something important. Something precious.

(And really, isn't everything Roland is getting just for him in this world like that?)

There's a soft 'okay' in response to what the older guy says, though Inigo doesn't follow him just yet. Instead he pulls the phone back to look at the screen.

Not that he sends a text right away. No, first he raises the phone, carefully imitating what he saw before to be able to snap a quick photo - of Roland at work in the kitchen, that is. It's happening behind his back, so Inigo figures he may be able to get away with it without his father noticing.

It's that photo that he sends over to Will, and then adds in text:

Father's punishment for the cereal. I hope it's little-brother-approved. Have fun with the others, make sure to let them all know how cool your big brother is! We will call you again tomorrow, alright?

Inigo smiles down at the message before sending it over to Will, putting the phone back into his pocket. With his hands free, he wanders back over to the kitchen, latching onto Roland's back by wrapping his arms around the guy's waist.

Hey, at least it leaves Roland's hands free to keep rinsing the dishes.

"I think you're getting quite used to cuddling as well, father."

Certainly, it wasn't the click of a camera phone that garners Roland's attention. He's not heavy into the task of washing dishes right now anyway, just content watching warm, running water wash off the bits and flecks that have since stuck to the sides of the bowl. It's not even the sharp ping of a text message that comes through as soon as Inigo sends the message out, and the phone is tucked back into his pockets; William's response a mix of emoji's and words in all-caps, demanding more pictures of Roland's domestic servitude as punishment for his crimes. 'DADDY DOES REALLY GOOD LAUNDRY =D THAT SHOULD BE NEXT'

No, none of these things get him to jerk his head up and attempt to turn around. It's the arms that wrap around his midsection that do it, too affectionate even for someone who has spent so much time cuddling Inigo to sleep on a train with mattresses too cramped for two people. The blush that creeps across his skin from his nape all the way to his ears are because he doesn't know how to react to such a gesture of love, or how to even hug Inigo back when all he can touch are his forearms for support.

How did he truly get so lucky to be allowed these small acts of mercy? After all is said and done and he is still the king who let his world die the first time around? Now, now both his sons are happy to be with him, and the one who saved him, the one he owes it all to, is hugging him like this.

Roland can only tilt his chin down and smile while his face is obscured by their position. The running water stops as soon as his hand turns the faucet off, drips from the spout the only sound to be heard against the fond silence lingering between them. Maybe - just maybe - Roland does deserve to rest with his boys. Lay his arms down, make the most out of the days. How one embrace does this to him, he doesn't want to know, doesn't know what to make out of. But it's nice and he expresses it justly, grasping Inigo's hands with his own in a makeshift embrace without turning at all to face him.

"No thanks to you, heh. You've made me a master cuddler. Or so I'd like to think. You'll still need to be the judge, pup."

He knows there will be a time when they have to move back up to the master bedroom to sleep, but even in front of a kitchen sink with dishes half-clean, he doesn't want to budge for a single minute. Though -

"Sorry. My hands are still wet."

- he says that much too, in response to the hands that try to reciprocate the sentiment Inigo offers.

Edited 2021-02-10 17:36 (UTC)

To be fair, Inigo probably has absolutely zero idea just how many feelings he is inspiring within Roland with this gesture. These sort of things just come natural to Inigo, after all. There's never much thought behind all of his touches or hugs or cuddles, because it all comes from the same source in his heart. The warmth that wants to seek out others, wrap himself around them and never let go.

But that simple reason is why he enjoys this too. Just clinging to Roland while Roland can still keep on doing the dishes. Letting them both have that affection even during a moment like this.

Even Roland's latter statement just draws out a quiet laugh from him. "I think I can survive some water on my hands."

If that's the worst threat this world has to offer, in comparison to the days he spent fighting..

"You can keep on cleaning the dishes though, you know." It's why Inigo went for the backhug in the first place! If he'd cling to Roland's arm instead, the other would only have one arm and hand to use for cleaning the dishes, which would probably end up disasterously, if the cooking from just now was any indication.

But he has no problem just clinging to Roland while the other works. After all: "I'm not going anywhere."

Free backhugs while working. Is this not the ideal way to work, Roland. Should he come with you to all your meetings.

It's an affection that leaves him no room to argue. Roland's shoulders tremble as his chest heaves a soft laugh, and he decides why not? He'll wash the dishes now, not because they're so urgent he can't leave it for another day, but because it gives him an excuse to stay locked in place, Inigo's arms still firmly rooted where they are around his waist. Perhaps other fathers might think such a gesture is too much for Inigo's age, already a full grown adult by any regular, modern standards...but he knows this kid's heart is purer than any. And in a way, they both grew up with a lack of physical love from both father and son. So what was this except making up for all the lost time? The only downside was that this could have easily turned into a group hug if Will was home. The first few nights of adjusting to his new big brother ultimately ended up in small bouts of tentative touches; Will holding his brother's hand, asking him to lead him to bed. Will slowly getting used to Inigo's cuddling and carrying. It warms the heart to even return to such fond memories, made only weeks before.

The sound of running water fills the kitchen space once more. The hug from behind is accepted wholeheartedly, with Roland's leaned back slightly. "You better not. You're the one spoiling me now, pup. I often wonder how you never get tired of hugging...but that's a rhetoric question, isn't it?"

With only two bowls, the task of washing dishes isn't exactly an arduous one. Even without rushing, Roland sets the last of the spoons and bowls on the drying rack, waddling his feet to grab a tea towel hanging against the wall-mounted rod by the stove. He's really doing his best to make sure Inigo doesn't let go.

"I wonder if we can keep this up till the stairs."

A laugh bubbles up from his throat. "I think we may have to be a little more careful than that."

Look, it's not as if Roland is ancient or anything, but he's certainly a lot older than anyone Inigo is used to. And being older means you're a bit more fragile, right? The last thing Inigo wants to do is make the whole country worried just because the president happened to break a leg in a mysterious accident..

(Said mysterious accident being him trying to let his son hug him all the way up the stairs, of course, but they can't let the media know that!)

Still, Inigo seems to enjoy the hug for a few moments more as Roland moves throughout the kitchen, only releasing him the moment the other seems done here, ready to move on to their final cuddling location.

"And is it really that weird to never get tired of hugging?"

Inigo knows it's probably a little odd, especially considering no one around him ever seems to be quite as huggy as he is by nature. But it feels so natural to him, to a point where he never even has to think about giving physical affection, especially here with his new family.

"Doesn't anyone like the feeling of having someone close to them?"

He only lingers by the kitchen and hallway to make sure everything is in place. Lights are switched off - save the environment! - chairs are tucked back into the table, cereal and milk returned to their proper places in the cabinet and fridge respectively. The only light Roland leaves on is from the lamp in the living room, casting a cozy warmth into the rest of the house's interior. For once, as Roland looks back on the nest he's created for his new family, revived as is the rest of the world, the President finally feels like he's come home.

Roland checks the locks on the door, double-bolted and secured from the outside with a code activated for the night, before he walks towards the staircase, a hand already finding its way to the smooth banister. His other, is free for him to hold Inigo's hand even if Roland knows Inigo doesn't need it to come upstairs. So what if he feels sentimental over these things? Old men often do.

"Of course most folks like it, pup. But you can't count out people who've gotten so used to not having anyone around that all the affection starts feeling like it's a whole new world." Says the guy who is precisely as he describes to him; how long has it been since he's gotten any sort of love like this at all? It's only now that Roland is rediscovering how healing a good hug can be, especially from someone with mutual affection. Will better be ready for a brand new dad, honestly.

"In fact, before I met you on the train, I can count in one hand how many cuddles I've had or received in the past how many years." Sad to admit, sure. Sad to hear out of his own mouth, yeah. But they're here now, making up for it. He has no shame in admitting his loneliness, however repressed. Perhaps Inigo is the same in his own regard, living day to day in a battlefield for his life, no time to linger in the arms of another whoever they might be.

It's something Inigo very well understands. Though the difference may be that he's longed for it so much, all that time. After his mother died, and before he found himself on the train, and even then not until he finally felt like he was able to be himself around people - he always surpressed it. Even around his friends, around his sister. Being physically affectionate didn't fit in a world as cruel as his own, and the mask he put on of the invincible, ever-smiling soldier meant that he couldn't seek comfort in others. Couldn't allow himself to.

But he wanted it. Maybe it's why he's been extra cuddly all this time - like he's trying to make up for the lost years.

Like right now. Inigo is waddling after Roland like a duckling bonded to its parent, even when Roland isn't holding his hand as he moves around the room to check everything and make sure everything is turned off. And once the hand is offered to him, he takes it gladly, still following behind Roland.

And he takes in the thing Roland is telling him. Quietly, at first. Maybe since he's contemplating what to say to it. There's a sad side to it, after all, but-- that's not what Inigo wants to focus on here.

Which is why, once he does speak up, his tone takes on a lighter, joking quality as they start moving together.

"Clearly I have to go complain to all your bodyguards and cabinet ministers for not hugging or cuddling you often enough all these years."

Can you imagine it, all those men being physically affectionate with Roland? It's kind of a hilarious mental image to Inigo.

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