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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.

The hilarity is taken as intended. Roland fights back a chortle, shaking his head as they ascend the steps. His house isn't so large that they're needing such a long staircase either, already up on the second floor after a flight and a half. The lights of the hallway are activated through motion-sensor, and that would be a story for another time given how Inigo reacted the first time he walked through these corridors to find his bedroom. Oh, how he screamed...Will thought he was being attacked, and Roland almost fell face first at the fear of his children in peril.

"I'm sure you'll give them an earful, son." Though really, it's a lot to imagine. Secret Service agents clamoring to wrap their arms around him for hugs? And with Roland knowing precisely who they all are, every single face matched to a name after years and years of service; he shakes his head and lets out a quiet chuckle anyway. "What will you do if they say no? Shall we scold them too, for not fulfilling their duties to the president?"

Though if one were to ask him, he has no need to search for cuddles and hugs from grown men when he comes home to two very warm hugs already. From his children who he loves very much. Who cherishes more than anything. He is left wanting for nothing, and he no longer thinks he doesn't deserve it.

He leads them to the master bedroom where the lights are no longer automated, but instead of switches, Roland has installed dials to control the brightness manually. Something about getting headaches with the wattage regardless of the bulb, and how he works late nights hunched over his desk. Apart from the attic, his other personal study area is connected by a long, wooden sliding door next to the closet of his bedroom, but for now they have no need to explore it yet. He lets Inigo fiddle with the light while he lets his hand go to open the light in the bathroom, then running out to the other end, darting towards the door they just entered.

"Get cozy, pup! I'll be right back! I'll grab an extra blanket and - " He peers over the wall before leaving. "Do you need me to go grab some clothes in your room? Do you, err, mind? I don't want to invade your privacy." Plus his toothbrush too.

"Privacy?" Inigo repeats the word, standing there while he's still fiddling with the light dial a little. Not just because it's fun - okay, maybe partially because it's fun, sue him - but also since he's trying to find the precise right kind of mood lighting that won't be too much for Roland or jostly the other entirely too awake once more while they're still very much busy settling in for bed.

Then he laughs. "Come on, what privacy do I need? This is your-- our house!" A slight slip of the tongue. Not even because Inigo necessarily thinks of things that way - no, he's truly settling in to a point where he's starting to become more familiar with the layout of the house, with where to find most things and how to work all these weird modern devices. But it hasn't been that long yet, in the grand scheme of things.

So it's just enough to make his cheeks flush a bit, but it doesn't make him completely clam up in shyness.

"My pyajamas should be on my bed."

Thankfully it's one of those modern concepts the train prepared him for before he was thrown into a much bigger modern world. Besides, it did feel easier to get Will to put on his pyjamas and go to bed when Inigo did the same, all the while laughing and talking about how they matched.

And while it's not necessary today, with Will at camp, Inigo does still want to very much get comfortable during this cuddle session before bed with his dad.

Inigo smiles. "I'll wait here!"

Roland chides him with a simple shake of his head and a lopsided smile before leaving the room and taking a quick trip to the adjoined bedroom a few steps down the hallway. Maybe Inigo really did just skip the rebellious teen phase where any normal guy his age wouldn't dare to have their parent look through their things. Much less enter their bedroom. But what did Roland expect; between Inigo's penchant for sharing affection and comfort where he can find it, to the times they've cuddled side by side on the train, spaces much cramped than the luxury of their current living quarters. A queen-sized bed waiting for them, with all the room to wiggle around and fall asleep into.

He should count his lucky stars, since Roland is quite certain William wouldn't be as laid back about this in a couple of years...

He doesn't take long, but it's still enough time to give Inigo a good moment or two to roam around Roland's own bedroom. For someone who appreciates the finer things in life, it's surprisingly bare in its furnishings, with the bed frames taking up most of the attention. The desk that lays on each side is empty, except for a book marked with a piece of paper that rests on the mahogany surface, and a half-full glass of water. The other side of the bed is also noticeably deeper, the mattress sinking with Inigo's weight far easier than the firmer right side where once there was somebody else sharing in his bedspace. Now, no longer. But all is as it should be, and Roland has healed in scars even before Inigo entered his life.

Roland jogs back inside the bedroom with his arms full of items. A set of pajamas laid out on his bed as he had pointed out, with the words Brother Bear printed on the front. Never mind that the bear imagery is way too appropriate for Inigo; that was just by luck of the draw. Then the prophesized warm blankets, knit and perfect for the cold. He also took the liberty of borrowing a bigger pillow for him, and a cup with a toothbrush that was inside his bathroom. He has transformed into a thorough father! Maybe.

"Ah, pup? Could you - ?"

By the time Roland arrives at the room - with his arms stuffed full of various things - Inigo is indeed already sitting on the bed. Still on the edge of it though, as if he doesn't want to properly lay his body down on the matress until he's doing so together with the other guy. The idea of sleeping here in Roland's room isn't so foreign when everything in this world is still so new to Inigo. Between all the time spent cuddling with his new little brother and just generally being very busy exploring this wild new world, Inigo hasn't even spent enough time in his room to really think of that as the default.

Instead every bed where he lies down to cuddle a member of the Crane family feels more like his place to him than anything else.

Roland's request, though, gets him to smile at the other. Inigo immediately gets up, moving across the room towards Roland with a slight spring in his step.

"Why did you even take this much with you?" It's a rethorical question more than anything. Inigo knows the answer by heart. It's since Roland is too kind, too natural of a carer. Always wanting to be overprepared, to shower too much generosity on others. But Inigo has to mention it out loud so he can laugh at it a little as he takes the blankets from Roland, at least, since it's the majority of the other guy's load.

They're dumped rather unceremoniously onto the bed for now by Inigo, but it's mostly since he has something else to do before dealing with those. He returns to Roland to grab the set of pyjamas, pulling off his shirt without really giving it much of a second thought so he can change into them. He's long passed the period where he was ashamed of Roland seeing his skin, let alone the many scars spread all across his torso.

He's about to jog into his own closet to change, but he pauses as the toothbrush in the cup bounces lamely on the duvet. Roland shakes his head amusedly and leans over his hip for it, while Inigo changes casually into sleepwear. Admittedly, able to glance at the time from the wall clock, it was probably too early to sleep at fifteen minutes past eight in the evening. They spent more time chatting than he realized. Yet it didn't seem to matter so much as soon as he glimpses Inigo putting on his pajama pants from the bathroom mirror, leaned back on the mattress with a grin on his face. It was everything else that made such a mundane thing so special; the fact that Inigo is so comfortable around him now, after so long. That the scars on Inigo's body are just that - scars, no more signs of the past than the worlds they've left behind for home. And while this might not be the first night they've fallen asleep together, he isn't one to take for granted how nice it is to wake up on the same space with the warmth of a family that has finally healed.

He's not going to waste any more time.

In a similar fashion, Roland discards his own top, buttons popping with deft fingers. Behind the door of his bathroom is the dad version of the same set: Papa Bear printed in the same font on the shirt. Topping it off with a fluffy robe, he ties it by the waist and creaks the door to call out to Inigo.

"Pup, teeth."

When Inigo enters, he will find Roland messing with his hair, running his hands through a much shorter cut. Humming as he seems to focus on the emerging grays streaking the sides.

"...Should I dye my hair back to black?"

Thank Naga for Roland helping Inigo remember that (dental) hygiene is a very new but important topic for him ever since having left Ylisse.. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd be reminded to actually brush his teeth, he'd just totally end up forgetting.

But despite the fact that it doesn't come natural to him, it's not like Inigo whines about having to do it at all. Instead he just obediently moves over into the bathroom when Roland calls out for him, a smile on his face.

Especially as he hears that question.

"What's wrong, papa bear?" That joke is only half as funny when Will isn't around - because the best part of it is being able to call him baby bear and squeezing him into a tight hug, of course - but it manages to amuse Inigo all the same as he voices the words out loud. "You don't like the way it looks right now?"

Considering how little Inigo has had to deal with or even see the greying of hairs before now, it's not like he knows a lot of the problems and doubts that surround it for older people. Hence why he says it pretty casually as he grabs his toothbrush.

He makes some room for Inigo while still looking at the mirror. Dental health is a must in this household! Gotta flash everyone a killer, mega-watt smile after all!

He's also not going to hide the wider smile he sports after hearing Inigo call him that monicker, because Roland is definitely not the type of person to feel sentimental about a funny nickname. H-He's not! Don't mistake that expression for anything but!

"It's not so much as me not liking it, but..." Roland trails off, hearing the running water hit the sink and deciding it might be enough grooming for now, reaching for his own toothbrush on the opposite corner. "I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking it." An understatement for the ages, whereas both guys seem to overthink things easily. The unspoken truth of the matter is that Roland wants to continue looking good, not just for his sons but for the rest of the world when he inevitably steps down from the head honcho's seat.

Then again, the salt and pepper look on older men seems to be a fad that isn't going away any time soon.

...

"You can dye your hair too, you know." He manages to say through the spittle and foam of toothpaste in his mouth. Vigorous brushing of teeth to accompany the difficulty of speaking, but he manages to do it as gracefully as one might expect. "Want to try one day?"

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