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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.

Here, if you're still interested in continuing!

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