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Sportacus was just finishing the last patrol around the town, perched on one of the low walls of the park and surveying the perimeter with his spyglass. Winter was always quite a peaceful time in Lazy Town. The fact most citizens did not own cars meant there were no accidents on the frozen roads. Some kind soul has sheltered the ever-troublesome kitten, so it wasn’t getting stuck in the trees anymore. And the atmosphere has shifted to something almost sleepy with the upcoming holidays. While the hero wasn’t bothered by the chill in the air (it reminded him of his home in a pleasant way, actually), the drop in temperature and the early nightfall meant that the kids would be spending more time indoors.
Sportacus didn’t mind, he understood that humans are just not as built for winter as elves are. While he could run around in his usual hero attire, the other citizens had to bundle in layers, gloves and hats. It just meant he found himself with more time on his hands than during the warmer months, when the sun and summer break meant the kids would be running around and playing.
He still spent time with the children when possible. Building snow forts and having snowball fights. Which resulted in him having to stop Pixel’s automatic snowball launcher after it went rogue. The involvement of the local villain was questionable on that one. There was also the big yeti hunt, in which the local villain most certainly was involved, big furry costume and all. And the time when Sportacus took the kids skating on the frozen lake, which resulted in an impromptu ice-fishing for the local villain who did not listen about ice safety. The subsequent hypothermia first-aid lesson, which the kids were not present for, would be way more awkward if the two of them were not dating for a while.
The hero’s cheeks reddened by more than rough cold wind whipping around him at the memory.
If someone were to tell Sportacus a year back that he’d be smitten by the lazy sugar-addicted villain, he’d think they were crazy. Robbie was his antithesis, his opposite, the villain and the hero. They were made to be pitted against each other. Sure, Sportacus was always civil to the other man, it was in his nature to be friendly to others and at some points even Robbie showed that his heart was not made of stone. However, it took some time until the two came to an actual understanding.
It was mostly due to Sportacus learning that the other man is a fae that their disputes ended for the most part. As much as elves could survive solely on a diet of fruits and vegetables with little need for protein (despite their superior physical abilities to regular humans), fae on the other hand could survive on a diet of all sorts of sugary desserts. Apparently, that’s why there was a dessert called a fairy cake, as Robbie helpfully told the sports elf one evening over a shared cup of tea.
This new information also explained more of Robbie’s behavior. The inability to sleep unless he felt completely safe (such as in Sportacus’ embrace), due to the fae usually living in Courts and sleeping in clusters. The disguises that were always foolproof until something fell out of place, due to them being actually magically enchanted with glamours. The way Robbie seemed to just disappear into thin air at will, due to what the villain called “shadow stepping” which he apparently learned from his fae cousin. The way he never called anyone by their proper names, due to names holding special power to the fae.
In the light of all this, Sportacus just could not continue to push Robbie into changing his ways. Most of the things were not Robbie’s fault more than Sportacus’ inability to stay still. It was just hardcoded to their beings. Sure, the villain still claimed to be very lazy, despite always running around with some scheme, so Sportacus could let that one slide.
Over the months they learned that they actually enjoy each other’s company. Robbie’s ingenuity was intriguing. The way he could get very passionate about things that interested him and talk for hours while working a perfect backdrop for Sportacus’ workouts. And the way the fae always made sure he was being clear when communicating, assuring he wasn’t passive aggressive or sarcastic (unless he was, which he also made sure was understood) was a breath of fresh air. Especially since other humanoids did not possess the expressive pointed ears which were frequently used as a part of nonverbal communication between elves, signaling tone or severity of the statements.
The hero could feel his ears twitch under his hat just thinking about the other man. He was on his way to the underground lair, just taking a final moment to check if the town could survive without him for a few hours.
Sportacus put away his spyglass and jumped down from the low wall. No one seemed in immediate danger. Town? Empty. The Sun? Setting. The kids? Went to the mayor’s house to bake some holiday treats. Perfect opportunity for the town’s hero to take a break and spend some time with Robbie. The blue elf started skipping towards the billboard on the edge of the town.
His crystal started flashing.
Smoke.
The kids.
Billboard forgotten; the hero broke into sprint. Quickly making his way towards the mayor’s house. Snow crunching under his feet. Vaulting over walls and gates. Summersaulting through the open window which was letting out an alarming amount of smoke. Moving purely on instinct (and elven magic), he tackled Stingy, who was about to douse the smoking microwave with a bucket of water to put out the flames, to the ground.
The water splashed over the two of them instead. Sportacus taking blunt of the splash as he shielded Stingy from the rough tackle by a quick tuck and roll. He set the now dizzy child back on the ground before quickly slamming the smoking microwave closed. Without enough oxygen the fire quickly put itself out, leaving just a smoking lump of something.
The crystal quieted down. Whew.
A grateful chorus of “Sportacus!” rang from the gaggle of children as the disaster ended before it could properly start.
“Kids, what were you doing? Where’s the mayor?” the hero asked, while trying to see what in all the spirits were the kids trying to microwave. There was a puddle of something barely contained anymore in a charred container.
Stephanie was waving around a dish towel to disperse the residual smoke. “Miss Busybody called uncle Milford a while back. He said it was urgent. So, we decided to start on our own.”
Of course. Mayor Meanswell always, well, meant well. So, whenever miss Busybody called, he’d run. However, leaving a bunch of unsupervised children in the kitchen was unacceptable. As Robbie would say, the adults of this town were sometimes complete muppets. Sportacus sighed, placing his hands on his hips, his suit clung uncomfortably to him, dripping. He was not mad. He was disappointed, which was worse. He wasn’t even sure if he was disappointed in Milford, the children or himself for not being there sooner.
“Okay…” Sportacus took a calming breath. “That explains why the mayor isn’t here, not the fire.”
“Well.” Trixie hopped up at the counter, trying to peer over the hero’s shoulder into the microwave. “We forgot to pull out the butter beforehand, so it was too stiff to work with.”
“So, we put it in the microwave to melt it!” Ziggy followed, crawling out from under the dining table.
Stingy nodded along. “But we kind of forgot it there.” The boy dusted himself off, squeezing out the sleeve that got wet in his tumble with Sportacus.
Pixel, trying to find something positive from the data given, scratched the back of his neck. “I mean the butter has been melted. It was at a cause of a small fire, but technically we did melt it.” He shrugged.
Sportacus put Trixie who tried to climb over him to reach the microwave down. “Kids, we’ve talked about kitchen and fire safety. You shouldn’t put metal foil into microwave, especially the kind with paper underneath. And appliances should never be put out with water. It could cause even more problem.” The hero shook his head, lips a thin line.
A very ashamed and quiet chorus of “sorry Sportacus” came from the group.
Stephanie scuffed her shoe on the kitchen tiles. “Could you watch over us while we continue?” There was hope in her young face. A pleading look that called the hero into the town in the first place and then made him stay for good.
“We shouldn’t stay here. The kitchen needs to properly air out.” Sportacus waved a hand in front of his face, there was still some stubborn smoke refusing to leave the room.
“But no other house has kitchen big enough to fit us all…” Ziggy whined, sniffling. “Does that mean we won’t be baking?”
The mood in the room plummeted from panic into disappointment. The kids were clearly looking forward to making the holiday treats for the big celebration later in the week. Sportacus now had five children all in different stages of grief on his hands and a boyfriend waiting for him.
Well, there could be one solution.
The hero bit his bottom lip as his eyes landed on the billboard at the edge of the town.
It wasn’t unusual for the elf to come late. His heroic duties always came unexpectedly. Robbie didn’t really mind. He always claimed that the villain can never be late, because they are the one setting the time. He could extend the same courtesy to the hero. Not that he would not complain, he would. A lot. But just so Sportalate wouldn’t think it is appropriate to leave his boyfriend waiting.
Finally, the familiar rhythmic knocking on the outside hatch rang through the lair.
Robbie got up from his fluffy chair, his back cracking in several places as he straightened, wings stretching along with his arms. He went to the bottom of the ladder to do his best impression of an annoyed boyfriend but stopped in his tracks when another knock was accompanied by a buzzing under his skin. The fae has trained his wards to not react to his elven boyfriend a couple months ago, which could mean only one thing – the elf wasn’t alone.
Glamouring his wings and making his way up the ladder, rather than waiting for whoever intruders accompanied Sportacus to come down, the villain opened the hatch. He did not expect the brats hiding behind the elf, each holding some bags of something.
“Can I help you?” For a moment Robbie was too shocked to put his villainous persona into the question.
Sportacus scratched the back of his neck, giving Robbie a shy and unsure smile. “Well, actually…” The hero then promptly explained the situation to the villain.
Robbie just blinked a few times. “So, you brats have almost blown the mayor’s kitchen up. And now you want to continue with that in my kitchen?” Robbie raised one thin eyebrow at the children.
Addressing the kids directly was apparently a bad idea, since now that they saw the villain won’t bite their heads off for daring to disturb his peace the bunch of pre-teens swarmed the entry hatch. All with pleading faces and annoyingly high voices too loud for the fae’s sensitive ears. And a punch under the belt came when the elf used the kids’ distraction and took off his hat. If there was one weakness Robbie had, it was the pouting face of his boyfriend; the mussy blonde waves just barely covering the pointy ears that were now drooped down in a quiet plea.
Covering his ears to muffle the sound and squeezing his eyes to not see the kicked puppy look his boyfriend was giving him (something he surely learned from the brats), Robbie grunted, “fine, fine! You can come in. Just be quiet.”
Instead of relief, Robbie’s baking sanctuary was met with suspicion. Pinkie was squinting her eyes at him. “Really?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’ll help us right off the bat? Just like that?”
“Yeah’s not very evil of you.” The candy boy mirrored her stance.
Ungrateful brats, Robbie thought. “I’m not just evil. I am a villain. There’s a difference.”
Tricky seemed more curious than suspicious by that claim. “What’s the difference?” She had the highest possibility of becoming a villain in the future, with her knack for mischief.
Robbie shined his black nails on his vest. “In the amount of queer coding I am legally allowed to have in a show aimed at 8-year-olds in the early 2000s. I can wear dresses and eyeshadow all I want. Just as long as I cause trouble, the censors don’t give a sh-”
“Shouldn’t we get inside? It’s getting dark out here.” Sportacus interrupted the wall-breaking.
Robbie paid him no mind, continuing with his monologue, “besides…” The fae folded his arms under his chin at the edge of the hatch, interlocking his long fingers. “…I get to help you make all kinds of sugar-packed treats, while the righteous health hero can do nothing but watch?” A mischievous smirk appeared on Robbie’s tinted lips. “That’s pretty evil if you ask me.” He shot his boyfriend a sly look.
There was a shiver which had nothing to do with the winter air nor the still-wet clothes clinging to the hero’s body. Sportacus quickly busied himself with putting his hat back on. “Come on kids, say thank you.”
A chorus of excited “thank you Robbie!” rang through the air, causing the cocky villain to cover his ears again. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. If you’re grateful, you’ll be quiet.” The lanky man disappeared down the hatch and the kids followed after him.
If Robbie knew he’d have a bunch of baking apprentices today, he’d make them all aprons in their signature colors. Ugh, maybe next time. Maybe he could whip up a pastry chef disguise some time to match. If they behave, the villain thought. He watched the five kids that were looking around his lair in awe. Of course, they were impressed, it was a pretty good lair. The best lair, even. Maybe too good, it was distracting the brats from the task at hand.
Robbie clapped once. Bringing the attention back to himself. He must admit, when the kids were not running around and actually listening to him, it filled him with an almost pleasant feeling. The hero must be rubbing off on him. He coughed into his fist, clearing his throat and putting back on his theatrical front.
“So. You lot, to the kitchen and wash your hands.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to the direction of the kitchen. When the group started to move, Robbie stopped his boyfriend. “Sportasoaked, you go find something that won’t cause you to track water around my lair.”
Thankfully, the kids were too distracted to notice their hero’s cheeks redden in slight embarrassment or the confidence with which he moved around the lair when he disappeared into some doors in the back as the rest stayed in the kitchen portion of the main room. They only gave him some weird looks when he came back dressed down in sweats and sleeveless shit with embroidered front pocket for his crystal, all fitting perfectly and in his signature colors to boot.
Sportacus joined the group just as Robbie was giving the kids each a special role in their little baking operation. It warmed the hero’s heart when he saw them working together. Not just the kids, but Robbie too.
Stephanie was in charge of the cookbooks, of which there were several. It seemed that the group was taking on multiple treats at once. Pixel was trusted with the robotic scales to ensure proper amount of the ingredients Stephanie called for. Trixie’s destructive tendencies were used for cracking the eggs and opening all the packets. Ziggy was in charge of the sugar and other dry ingredients while Stingy took care of the milk and the wet ones. They were working together like a proper team, all under Robbie’s watchful eye, while the villain worked on his own to the side.
Sportacus’s been telling Robbie to try and bond with the kids without any kind of mask on for a long time, but the villain just wouldn’t have it. Robbie always just laughed and said that with that phrasing it was not possible. Without a disguise? Maybe some time. Without a mask? No chance.
The hero did not really understand it much. The fae and semantics, he supposed. The elf always dropped the issue soon after it started, he could see that it made his boyfriend fidgety. There was never a reason to push Robbie into doing what he was uncomfortable with, it would not be right. So, seeing Robbie in charge of their, well, charges, filled the sports elf with glee and boundless energy. Maybe he could climb up into the rafters for some quick chin ups or upside-down crunches while the others bake so he would not disturb the process. Sportacus took two purposeful leaps up the ladder leading to the rafters before he was stopped by Robbie again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Robbie scowled up at him with a big bowl and a whisk in hand.
The hero dropped from the ladder, tucking and rolling over his shoulder, jogging lightly back to the kitchen area. “I just thought I’d get out of your way.” Sportacus lowered his voice, not wanting the kids overhear that he was around when Robbie baked before, “you know baking is a little too stationary for me.”
Robbie rolled his eyes, looking down at the elf. “So, you’re telling me you don’t want to help the children?” With a theatrical flair the fae clutched imaginary pearls around his neck. “And here I was, about to give you a special task. But I suppose if you’d rather do your ugh exercises, I can boot up Roboticus to help me.”
Sportacus could not help the huff that escaped him, moustache and hidden ears twitching in annoyance. He knew this was just one of Robbie’s tactics. The act itself did not annoy the hero as much as it should, he himself sometimes played a little dirty when he wanted Robbie to do something. Usually by playing into Robbie’s ego and villainous theatrics.
No, Sportacus was annoyed at himself for reacting the way he did when his robotic doppelganger was mentioned. For some reason he could not help but try to measure up to the robot, even if he had already bested it before. Sure, elves were territorial and protective when it came to the people they cared about, but this one-sided rivalry with a machine was a bit ridiculous.
“No. I can help.” The elf almost snapped, standing up straighter, puffing up his chest. “What do you need?”
The bowl and whisk were shoved into his hands by the very smug looking fae. “Cream, I need stiff peaks. Don’t try and taste it, there’s sugar already. I don’t need the kids yelling and running around in panic if you drop like a sack of potatoes.”
A soft smile appeared on the hero’s face. It meant a lot when Robbie found something at least slightly energetic Sportacus could do to help. He knew Robbie had machines that would whisk the cream in a matter of minutes (Roboticus notwithstanding), so having the villain specifically ask about this made the hero feel appreciated, needed, and, most importantly, occupied in a way that he could join the kids.
The group spent the next several hours baking. The cookies and cakes that would need to cool down for decorating were made first and put into the fridge. Those that would stay plain were next along with pastries, cooling slowly in the chilly lair air. And last the treats that needed to be warm for easier filling. In the end there were several different kinds of treats, ranging from the holiday themed cookies to just standard cupcakes.
After everything was done, the kids were covered in flour and frosting. The latter thanks to an argument between Trixie and Stingy over which frosting tasted better. The kids were so tuckered afterwards, they did not even notice the two adults were magically spared any rogue frosting shot. Sportacus almost had a heart attack, when Robbie grabbed one leftover bag of frosting and shotgunned the rest of its contents, and another one when Ziggy tried to do the same.
All that was left now was the taste test. Robbie had to cover his ears again when the kids started gasping and cheering about how good the desserts were. Surprisingly, they quieted quickly, even without Robbie having to tell them to do so. The villain rolled his eyes goodheartedly when Sportasap started a spiel about the treats tasting good because they made them together. If you’d ask Robbie, he’d tell you it was the amount of sugar those things packed. Each kid got a couple of treats to take home with Robbie promising to take the rest to the holiday get-together at the end of the week.
“What about these? Are these mine?” Sticky asked, his small grubby hands already trying to grab at a spare plate of cookies Robbie was working on in the background between the batches.
The villain gently smacked the kid’s hands away. “No. You already have your baggie.” Instead, Robbie handed the plate over to Sportacus. He was not nervous, even if his hands were shaking a little. “These are for Sportakook here. Since he actually helped instead of flipping around the whole time.”
Robbie saw the flash of uncertainty in his boyfriend’s eyes as he slowly took one of the cookies, so he quickly added. “They’re sugar-free. I told you; I’m not planning on playing doctor today. Try them.”
It pained Robbie on personal level to even think about, let alone actually bake something that did not contain any kind of added sugar. However, if the smile his boyfriend gave him as he bit into the cookie, which was rivaling all the stars in the sky right now, was his reward every time, he could be persuaded to leave the sugar out in a few recipes.
“These are amazing, Robbie! Thank you so much!” The elf could not help but bounce on the balls of his feet a bit.
Now it was Robbie’s turn to blush slightly. “Uh- you’re… you’re welcome, I guess. Whatever.” He could not look at the literal ball of sunshine his boyfriend had become.
The mayor came to pick up the children after that, leaving the two adults alone in the lair.
Robbie visibly deflated when they were alone. Sportacus could almost hear the cartoony sound of a balloon as the taller man buried his face in the muscular shoulder. “You did great.” He gently patted the villain’s back, coaxing out the wings from their glamour.
“Never.” Robbie raised his head. “EVER. Bring the brats over without previous notice. I need at least three days to mentally prepare for them.”
Sportacus could not help but chuckle. “But you did great.”
“Yeah well, the effort isn’t effortless.” Robbie groaned, scratching at his palms. “I’m drained. You’ll be lucky if I feel like going to the holiday humbug at all. How can you be around so many people all the time, I can’t get it.”
“Hey, it’ll be okay.” Sportacus grabbed one of Robbie’s hands. He ran his blunt nails over his palm in a circular motion, just as he had seen Robbie do many times before. It seemed to relax the tall man. Before he intertwined their fingers and squeezed lightly. Robbie squeezed back. “You can lurk in the shadows and not talk to anyone.”
There was a flash of purple in Robbie’s gray eyes as he asked, “promise?”
Sportacus chuckled again at the attempt at a deal which they both knew would not work. “Yeah, I promise. And if someone tries to talk to you, I’ll come and save you.”
“Ugh… fine.” A small smile quirked Robbie’s lip. “You really are a sap, you know that?”
“Suppose I am.” The elf shrugged and raised himself up on his tip toes to be closer. When Robbie bent down the short distance to connect their lips, Sportacus pushed against him with his own. And if the residue of frosting on Robbie’s lips made the elf a little lightheaded, it did not matter. It made the kiss just that much sweeter.