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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?"

"Well.."

The suggestion clearly seems to leave Inigo looking a little unsure. Not totally upset or anything, but maybe the look on his face is best summed up by the word hesitant. After all, his hair colour may just be the one thing tying him back to his own world. And while he's left that world behind, since the past would head into a new future, it still feels a little like totally leaving behind his father and his mother. The ones from his own future, who died so long ago. Like totally leaving behind his sister, still somewhere out there in the multiverse.

"Maybe something temporary?" He ends up saying with a small smile, having managed to squeeze most of the awkward out of it before it ends up on his face, though not necessarily all of it.

He's put toothpaste on his toothbrush by now, sticking it into his mouth and starting to brush his teeth and talk at the same time - like a true genius.

"Bwut I dunno bwhat colour suits we."

"Well that's easy." Roland offers before he gargles and spits out mouthwash into the basin. Think he can't understand that gibberish as Inigo brushes??? False! He is a master interpreter at all things Son! (Now, at least.) "Pink."

Whether or not he says this because he knows who Inigo's biological mother is or if he truly means it in a stylish way, having a keen eye for these things on his own, will forever be a mystery. Perhaps, it could even be both! But the fears Inigo has are assuaged either way, right as he reaches for floss.

"Anyway, whatever you decision, you don't have to worry about dye being permanent at all. Every hair dye is temporary. Give it time and your original hair color will start to show by the roots until it grows out completely."

Which is why if he ever decides to go black again, he's gonna have to keep doing it over and over. But the more he stares at himself in the mirror, some thoughts drifting here and there to how the other was doing, if they were settling in well to a new world...he tries not to let his stern brow show too much. He finishes brushing his teeth first and waits for Inigo while leaning his lower back against the countertop. Arms crossed over his chest, in idle watching.

"I've just been thinking about what else you can do while you get acquainted with this world. Apart from your usual hobbies, of course." And speaking of usual hobbies, the idea comes so suddenly that he jolts from his position, his hand making a fist as if determined to make it come true already. "Hey! What about landscaping the backyard so you and Will can garden? I'm sure he'd appreciate growing flowers and things with you."

Edited (i can write isdklgjadfjgadgk) 2021-03-02 13:09 (UTC)

.. pink. That kind of is the perfect suggestion, isn't it. Inigo seems to like it too, just judging by the look in his eyes and the way he shifts when he hears it. He is kind of curious what it'd look like, himself with pink hair - it's hard to imagine, even when he looks at himself in the mirror like he's doing right now.

He can't help but wonder if it's the same for Roland. If it's hard for him to imagine this older appearance with his more youthful hair colour.

But Inigo already knows. Regardless of anything else, he'll support his father's ideas in anything. Like the next one that comes up.

Inigo finishes brushing up, spitting out the remaining toothpaste into the sink before he speaks more gibberish.

"That'd be fun. And it'd be good for Will too, right?" Of course that's where Inigo's thoughts go first. As much as Roland is constantly looking out for his sons, Inigo in turn can't help but look out for his little brother as well. "It's a way he can still be outside more often, even after camp's finished."

Even if the other may have healed completely, Inigo still feels like the boy has probably got years of outside time to catch up on.

"Ahhh, well. I think I've got one other thing lined up for you boys that'll get you under the sun."

If Roland had planned the conversation to go in this direction, it's completely up to the unpredictable nature of the president's mental trajectory. But for all accounts, the progression is par the course of Roland never quite being explicit about something. Leaving the statement open-ended is deliberate too; saving it for when they're in bed with the only lights coming from their bedside tables. It'd be a good way to close the day, he thinks, the timing lining up just right. He stands straight again and takes Inigo by the hand after he finishes his routine, closing the bathroom door and leading them to the soft, queen-sized mattress. Roland lays by the spot that's not as dipped into the springs, firmer against his back, leaving Inigo on the side where Roland would normally sleep alone.

Blankets are thrown over, lights dimmed, and soon they reconvene in a cuddle between father and son that they've grown so accustomed to, it's almost like slotting two pieces against fitted spaces. His arm is around Inigo's shoulders, but despite Inigo's attempts to cuddle well and true, Roland seems to be reaching for something from beneath the bed. Only the sound of ruffling can be heard from his side.

"It's not quite a bedtime story, but I hope it can excite you all the same. Here. Why don't you read this, pup?"

When Roland emerges, he hands Inigo a brown folder. He says nothing else and watches for his reactions instead. What Inigo will find nestled inside may just take him back to their crazy adventures, millions of void spaces away. For printed in big, black, bold letters is the cover page of a project named after William and Inigo for a charity dedicated to children. Orphans, those in foster care, those who were abandoned...The very same charity Roland had spoke of to Inigo when they were playing coffee shop so many moons ago.

The one he is giving to his two boys, to inspire others of similar hearts in finding their true passions in life. Never again to be without a home or place to belong to. Roland wonders if Inigo remembers, but something tells him he has nothing to worry about.

Inigo honestly doesn't see it coming. He's more than glad just like this. Being dragged along to bed, settling in there. A bed that feels different than his own, but not in a bad way. Especially not with that familiar body right next to him. Even now aged, some things just don't change - something about the warmth of Roland's body next to his own, so close together, is the same now as it has always been.

If he'd close his eyes right now, he could almost imagine like it's like the old days. Like they're right there on the train. The only thing that keeps the illusion from being perfect is the fact that the bed underneath him right now is by far too comfortable to be a bunk.

Besides, he's snapped out of the thought quickly by the sudden ruffling sound, and then being handed something.

At first he doesn't realise what it is. Squinting in the dim light, Inigo looks at the folder. He opens it, trying to be careful about it and not accidentally drop it all over the bed..

Ah.

The look on Inigo's face as he stares up at it should tell Roland enough. He remembers exactly what this is, no matter how long ago the conversation has been by now.

"You.. remembered."

Maybe it shouldn't be surprising. Roland has never let him down on any promise he's ever made him. He's always been weirdly thoughtful, remembering even small things and turning them into bigger gestures.

And yet, somehow, the man can still catch him off guard at moments like these.

"You're-- Are we really doing this?" Inigo doesn't sound like he's rejecting the idea at all. No, it just sounds like he's surprised. This is a big thing to suddenly turn into reality, even if it's not just for Inigo's sake.

"Yeah. If you're still up for it. And of course I remembered. I told you. I'm not the kind of guy who forgets."

No statement bears more weight than this. Roland could be many things. He has been the worst type of father; he is trying to be better still. Worlds away, behind a mirror out of his reach, there is another man who bears his younger face and they share destinies whether or not he wants it. He is many things and none of them all at once, but the one promise he will stake his life not to break is the one where he vows to remember. Every chapter, every moment, every milestone. Every failure, every regret.

That day on the train when they sipped coffee together and laughed, he realized there was more than just a simple future of getting by waiting for Inigo. Roland wasted no time getting to work, drafting plans on paper, committing every word and schema to memory. His notebook filling up to the very final page until he had to buy another one just to keep the work going; yes, he knew what he had to do when the opportunity presented itself. And even when they were separated for a time before Inigo found a way to bring things back, Naga's blessings to thank for their inevitable reunion, Roland still remembered. The promises he made to him, the vow to open the doors of the world to a boy that felt so out of place after sacrificing so much to save the past.

Here, he hopes, Inigo can belong the way he's always wanted. The way he's never given himself permission to.

Roland leans to the side, touching shoulders, shuffling the pages to show Inigo draft sketches of every building of the compound he had already arranged. There were rough drafts of kitchens, living quarters...but also dance studios with mirrors from wall to wall, and libraries with high ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows. There is a community garden by the first floor, and a gymnasium to the other side. It's bare, not even conceptual drawings of what it could be, but that's by design. He wants his sons to be involved. He wants their imaginations to dictate how this charity would be run, how it would look to the kids they would invite to live. He wants them to turn it into a home, a real one, the way they did his own.

After he finishes showing Inigo the sketches, he skips pages to the final sheet of paper where Roland's signature is printed in black ink. At the bottom is surprisingly, William's scribbled name, and then a blank space with Inigo's Earth-given name.

"All that's left is for you to sign off on it, and both of you will be the primary proprietors. You get creative control of it all. You can make your dreams come true." He clears his throat quietly, pulling back only slightly, searching Inigo's profile for any signs of approval. "I...I hope the drawings are okay. Granted, they're rough drafts for now. I wanted you two to figure out how each room would look, especially the dance studio. Do you need more details? I can arrange that later."

Inigo stares at it all silently. Every single drawing, every outline, as rough at it may still be. But they're still enough to imagine what it may be like, a place like that filled with people. It all feels like so much - it had already felt like so much back when Roland presented the idea to him for the first time, but it's something else to see it slowly becoming more concrete. And then there's Will's name already on it - Inigo can only imagine how the other may approach this, with overwhelming enthusiasm, not even knowing where to start. It's like he can hear the kid's voice in his head already.

It's only when he hears that last thing Roland says, the stammer in his voice, that Inigo turns his attention and imagination away from the pictures and back towards Roland, turning his head a little so he can better see the older man, a small smile on his face.

"You always do that, father!" It doesn't sound accusing - well, not in any serious way, anyway. It sounds light instead, amused. Like seeing the well-known habit of a loved one. "You always do these huge great things, and then you suddenly start wondering if it's all okay. As if you aren't doing something great."

And sure, Inigo is probably the person who's the least allowed to call Roland out on this, since Inigo is even more uncertain of his own plans at least 99% of the time. But he's the one present here right now, so he has to be the one to do it.

"I mean, setting up even all of this.. It can't have been easy." There has been actual effort put into this already. And all that on top of how busy Roland already is from day to day. "Though I'm sure the end result will be worth it."

Even if Inigo can't save all of the kids he's failed so much in the past, maybe he can at least slowly start to make up for it with this.

"Do I, now?" Roland laughs under his breath, sheepish in the slight profile he shows as him while his gaze drops to his lap now blanketed with layers of warm fleece and wool. If he moved his leg a little bit more to the side, he'd be knocking heels with Inigo, which he does by accident as he adjusts in his seat. None of it bothers him at all, more pleased that the surprise is well-received.

"I wouldn't say this is 'great' just yet, but it can be." He adds, intertwining one of their hands again, bouncing it once in affection. "With you on board, it'll only be a matter of time." And even if Inigo is already used to things like this, hearing words of praise from Roland left and right, it doesn't make the habit of showing Inigo how much he supports him any less meaningful.

"I'll admit the work has yet to really begin, but...it's a group effort. Don't worry about it. I have fun doing things for you guys. Really."

He lets Inigo study the blueprints for a bit longer, but when he is ready to take them back, they're easily tucked away back in the folders from under his bed. The rest of this project could wait till the morning, or however long they needed. Not for the first time does Roland realize they really did have the chance to savor each day as it came and went. Tonight was no longer for surprise projects and paperwork; not anymore.

Tonight, Roland is no longer alone. Without prompting from Inigo, he is already wrapping his arms around him, getting ready to cuddle for bed.

"That's enough of that for now. Come on. Bed time, pup. Get cozy."

The remark is first met with a half-groan, half-hum.

And then followed up with a near childish and slightly tired-sounding protest of: "But I am already cozy.." Which isn't really a lie. After all, Inigo is get cozy so easily, especially when he's near people he cares for this much. Just the feeling of Roland's arms around him is enough to make him feel cozy.

But he does shift a moment later. Rolling over onto his side from where he was laying on his back, scooting in a bit more so he can rest his head on Roland's chest. It's something Inigo doesn't even have to think about anymore. They've cuddled so often at this point that it's like two puzzle pieces fitting together, no matter that Roland's body is a lot older now than it used to be.

".. It's so quiet here," Inigo says after a moment of quiet.

And while it's true that it's not entirely silent in the room - he can hear the faint ticking of a clock coming from somewhere, for one - it's so much different compared to the times they did this on the train, with the constant droning sound of the train moving in the background.

But this time, as they're lying there, there is no train. It's just them.

"Should I sing a lullaby or something? Heh."

It's meant as a jest, but a part of him could be convinced. The warmth of their molded bodies is comforting just as much to Roland, even if they have done this so many times before. Once, many nights ago, Will was nestled right in between them, making for a very cute and very nest-like family sandwich. He may be missing right now, but it doesn't take away from how lovely it all feels to Roland, how complete his heart is, filled to the brim with light.

His hand drifts to the breadth of Inigo's back, gently rubbing it up and down to help him calm even more. The way they've fit together makes it easier for him to settle his chin against the top of Inigo's head, though his eyes are still wide open.

"You have a much better singing voice than I do, though. Maybe you could serenade us to sleep instead?" That too, is meant to jab lightly, but Inigo would know Roland means every word regardless. The praise, the offer. None of it made with any force or fire behind it, with his fingers drumming against the fabric of the boy's shirt like he's doing everything he can to relax him to dreamland.

Here Roland is, trying so hard to soothe and calm down Inigo so he can fall asleep, and then he just has to make a remark like that. The exact kind of remark that flusters the boy, negating at least half of Roland's half work here. Because if anything startles the boy a bit more awake again, it's compliments he's unsure how to deal with.

"C-Come on, father. It's not that great."

At least Roland is being spared a total freakout. Perhaps it's a sign that Inigo is getting a bit sleepy already, just from how comfortable it is to lay here against Roland. Sleepy enough that his fluster is a bit more muted.

"Besides, what's wrong with yours? Wouldn't you sing me a lullaby if I asked for it?"

If Inigo meant to throw that question right back at him to administer the same reaction, it works. Roland sputters a reply against the tuft of hair tickling his nose, his ministrations on his back halting totally. He's probably panicking more than Inigo is right now, slowly making his way towards dreamland.

Though there's something to be said in how he's learning way more from Roland than expected if Inigo comes up with a retort that fast, that effectively. No longer does his masterful deflection pass undetected. His sons are too smart for that now - earlier this evening, from William, and now from his eldest (youngest?).

"Ah, well." He clears his throat, resuming the rubbing against Inigo's back in long strokes. "I-I would. But it won't be pleasant."

Hey, maybe if he lulls him to sleep fast enough, Roland won't have to do anything. Yes, this is genius.

"I'm not exactly a singer, pup. Carrying a tune is different from actually sounding nice, you know?"

Gotosleep gotosleep gotosleepgotosleep-

Fool. The absolute fool that Roland is, throwing all his hope onto that one fact. Throwing all his hope into the corner of one teenager not walking all over him for once. Maybe one day he will learn.

But today is not that day, apparently. Since Roland will soon notice that his chosen strategy isn't quite working. Rather than Inigo going quiet or sleeping, there's actually a small whine coming from the boy, no matter how comfortable he currently is in both his father's bed and embrace.

"You're my father." An obvious statement, yes, but it's more a prelude to what follows it. "I like anything you do."

Such is the bias of family! But really, Inigo mostly just figures there's no way Roland would sound that bad. His voice is nice enough, so what gives?

And then, almost as if to shove the knife in - though it's hard to tell whether it's on purpose or not: ".. Are you embarrassed, father?"

"I...uh..."

Eloquence is out the window, never to be seen again. The rubbing against Inigo's back ceases, and he has to look down at him entangled in his arms for him to actually blush and look away. If that's not the definition of embarrassment, then Roland doesn't know what is. But he doesn't mean to add meaning to Inigo's very correct assessment! He's just caught off-guard! And it's Inigo! His kid!

No amount of stoicism is going to pass his keen gaze. Not after he's read Roland so many times that he knows mannerisms by heart. There's no path left except to be honest.

Or try to, at least.

His legs shift under the covers.

"It's more of, I'm not even sure I even know any lullabies now." A beat. "Aren't you too old for those anyway, pup?"

GO TO SLEEP GOTOSLEEP GO TO SLEEP!!!

Edited 2021-03-22 17:20 (UTC)

The more ~~the lady~~ the lord protests, the more pushback there's going to be. Since it's getting increasingly more obvious just how embarrassed Roland is getting over here, and that means Inigo now really wants to hear him sing it. How bad could it be! Maybe this time it's his dad who needs a confidence boost about doing something creative, compared to Inigo's usual dancing woes.

So he wriggles against Roland in the other's hold, as if to show off that he's still very much awake, thanks. No going to sleep here until he's had his lullaby.

"Oh, come on! In that case you could say I'm technically too old for this too, you know." Cuddling in bed with his father - what teen Inigo's age would still voluntarily want to do that? And yet here he is, as comfortable as can be.

Well...he's got me there.

He knows when to concede. Since when did Inigo get this good at catching Roland totally off-guard, totally at a loss for any sort of comeback that could save him? Too much training on the train, he feels like, even as they transcend lifetimes and worlds.

At first, Roland sighs, grows silent. His hand returns to gently caressing his back, fingers playing against the soft flannel of his shirt, eyes open staring at the darkness bathing the wall behind Inigo. And then, as if out of nowhere, his voice does tremble. Inigo would feel its vibrations against his cheek, where it rests against Roland's chest...a vibrato that's low and baritone, unsure of its notes, pitchy in places, definitely unpracticed.

But for what his singing voice lacks in technical perfection, it makes up for it with earnest passion, an attempt to fulfill his end of the promise...and because Inigo is the one to ask him to sing. If there was anybody on this earth who could get Roland to do something that he wasn't sure of, didn't think to do or want, it would be his children. Two sons, who fills his broken life with healing love.

'Now I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?'

He swallows a bit, before singing again, nowhere near the melody, but it's a gentle lullaby nonetheless. At least, he makes it to sound like one, with the tone of his voice, the texture of his lilt.

'It goes like this, the fourth the fifth, the minor falls, the major lifts...the baffled king composing Hallelujah.'

He nuzzles against Inigo's hair, singing against it now, muffling his words, but he doesn't care at all. He sheds his shyness all at once, feeling the emotion flood his heart, knowing the weight in his arms is that of a home complete.

So what's a song to commemorate that, though he is far from the performer to do it justice?

'Hallelujah...Hallelujah...Hallelujah...Hallelujah.'

Despite all his insisting over here, Inigo isn't truly sure whether or not Roland is going to give in. If he won't just dig his heels into the sand and just insist on going to sleep without it.

But as Inigo lies there in wait, he can slowly feel it. The rumble in Roland's chest, first accompanied by a soft sound before it grows a bit louder. A song. One Inigo obviously doesn't recognize, as new as he still is to this world he's found himself in with his new family, but it doesn't matter one bit.

Because what matters is the sound itself. Just the sound of Roland's low soft tone, just the vibrations of his chest as Inigo still leans against it. All of it is nice and soothing regardless of what the sound is actually about. It's just about this - finding safety and warmth inside of his father's arms, soothed to sleep by his father's voice.

And it works. Inigo sure is listening at first, but as Roland keeps singing and eventually checks up on Inigo, he'll find that the boy has completely drifted off to sleep right then and there.

ooc;

adregem - 2021-03-29 15:48 (UTC) - Expand

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ooc;