WHO: Robinet Burke & Rolf Scamander. WHAT: A stealth mission goes awry. WHEN: 16 January. WHERE: Rolf's flat -> Knockturn Alley. WARNINGS: There is some kissing.
Robin had an idea. It probably wasn’t a very good idea.
Still, It had been niggling at him for what felt like forever (a few days), a plan forming in his mind the longer he mulled it over. Robin wasn’t sure if Marvyn was really trying to start a subpar cursed artefacts shop essentially out of his spare room but he had an inkling and if he was he needed to be stopped. His shop, his family’s shop, had been around forever and besides, they were more responsible with it. Marvyn was likely to forget his head if it wasn’t screwed on. It was therefore imperative for not only Robin’s own peace of mind, but for the good of everyone that Robin found out immediately if he really was trying to start his own business.
Or, at least, that was the whole speech he had prepared, the reasoning behind why he apparated to Rolf’s door and rapped loudly on it. When the door opened, he sprang off the wall and said, “I need your help.”
The door swung open on its own. As Robin slipped inside the flat, a very disheveled, very wet Rolf poked his head around his bathroom door. Achilles, as always, was perched on his shoulder. “Oh, it’s you.” He stepped into the living the room, shutting the door quickly behind him as if he was trying to prevent something from escaping. “I’m not helping you rip off elderly women or pickpocket,” he warned, peeling off his soaked through t-shirt and tossing it on the sofa.
Then, as if he only just realized he needed to explain his appearance, he shrugged and added, “I was trying to give the jarvey a bath.”
Robin blinked at Rolf for a moment, eyebrows raised. His gaze darted from him, to the sodden t-shirt, back and then to the bathroom door. One half of his mouth twisted into something approaching a smirk and he shook his head. “Merlin, Rolf, I’m gonna start telling everyone you’re an always nude. Can’t walk into your flat without you there, taking your shirt off. Is that how you charmed Old Lady Magee?” He laughed at himself and looked at Rolf again.
Grinning, he said, “Actually, if I was going to rip off elderly women I’d ask you to come with me as you are. But I’m better than that. You’ll need a shirt for where we’re going.” It sounded very dramatic, which Robin liked and he walked over to one of Rolf’s chairs, almost flinging himself onto it.
“Where are we going?” Rolf asked, half-distracted as he tried to flatten his hair. “As an always nude, I need to plan my outfit accordingly. I might need a shirt but that doesn’t mean I need trousers.”
“We’re following someone,” Robin said, tilting his head back to rest it against the back of the chair. “We’re not supposed to attract attention, so please keep everything in your pants.”
A little surprised, one eyebrow lifted as Rolf’s gaze snapped to Robin. “Who are we following? Because I told you last time, I don’t think Old Lady Magee is selling organs.”
Robin made a loud noise, somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. Rolf was very committed to his belief in Old Lady Magee’s innocence, but Robin knew she was up to something. It was only a matter of time before he figured out what. He thought about sharing that and decided not to. Instead he lifted a shoulder into a shrug, pulling a hand through his hair. He looked at the ceiling and then Rolf again. “Yeah and like last time, I think you’re wrong but whatever, it’s not important. What’s important is I’m pretty sure Marvyn’s trying to usurp us and he must be stopped.”
A beat. “I mean, for the good of everyone, he must be stopped.”
Fighting back a smile, Rolf hummed as he stole into his bedroom for a minute. He grabbed the first jumper he saw, picked a bit of cat fur off it, and pulled it over to his head. When he finally spoke, it was still from the bedroom, his voice slightly muffled by the sweater. “Usurp you how? Do you mean he’s trying to encroach onto Borgin and Burkes’ territory?”
“Yes,” Robin said, immediately, his irritation obvious in his voice as it sharpened. He raised his voice slightly so Rolf could hear him. “I’m sure he’s selling cursed artefacts out of his bedroom, more or less, and you know they’re not properly checked over because Marvyn wouldn’t know the difference between an entrail expelling curse and an entrail liquefaction curse if it came up and bit him on the nose. It’s not fair that he’d be trying to take some of our clientele and our profit and selling some subpar products and he must be stopped.” It was only then that Robin himself stopped, telling himself to tone his voice down a bit, make himself a little bit more even: he could feel the annoyance sparking again. He rubbed a hand over his mouth and settled back into his chair.
A loud “hm!” was Rolf’s first response. When he emerged from his room, he was wearing a bright red jumper that was terrible for stealth missions (this did not occur to him.) “It’s a tough market to break into, especially if you’re working out of your bedroom. Is Marvyn an idiot?”
There was a long pause after Rolf spoke when Robin was very quiet and still, staring at him openly. Then: “Are you an idiot?”
Rolf’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you doing wearing that?” Robin was on his feet immediately, long legs swallowing the space between them. He tugged at Rolf’s jumper and shook his head and then shoved him lightly. “Get it off. You can’t wear it.”
Stumbling backward, Rolf frowned down at his jumper. Self-consciousness radiated off him in waves. “I guess it is a bit loud,” he admitted, before he walked back into his room to exchange the sweater he was wearing for a more subtle color. He pulled open a dresser drawer and rummaged around before he found something a little more suitable for Robin’s mission.
When he returned to the living room, he was wearing a nondescript grey sweater with a matching wool cap tugged over his hair. “Is this better? Because I feel like I’m about to rob a bank.”
Robin looked up from his phone and gave Rolf a critical once-over, squinting slightly before he nodded sharply. He looked at his phone again and then pocketed it. “It’s much better. We don’t want to draw too much attention, you know. In the name of subterfuge, I’ve even picked my most nondescript hat — I’m glad you’re carrying on the tradition, too.” He reached out, tugging Rolf’s hat down slightly, and made a considering noise. “I think most people wouldn’t look too hard at you just passing on the street in that. It’s perfect.”
Rolf smiled, obviously pleased with himself. (From his perch on Rolf’s shoulder, Achilles rolled his tiny black eyes.) “This face is too cute to just walk by though,” he joked, his smile turning lopsided as he gave Robin an expectant look.
Robin looked back at him for a moment, mouth slightly open, and then he swallowed. Half-grinning, he said, “That’s why you’re gonna look at the ground a lot. And you’ll be following my lead anyway, which’ll be very fun for you.”
Easing up on his tiptoes, Rolf reached for Robin’s hat and tugged it down until it covered his eyes. “The blind leading the blind. It’ll be fun.”
Underneath the hat, Robin closed his eyes and shook his head slightly, a vague smile on his face. He opened his mouth to say something which was promptly forgotten as his phone dinged. Shoving his hat back up out of his eyes, Robin grabbed the phone out and glanced at the message only briefly before he said, “Right, that’s our cue. Let’s go.”
He didn’t really wait to see if Rolf was following him before he turned, because he knew he would be, even if it took him a moment. He’d asked his contact to let him know when Marvyn passed near Rolf’s: they had a minute or so to get down and into place. Robin took the stairs, glancing over his shoulder to check Rolf was there, holding up a hand to stop him when they left the building. There was a fine, mizzly rain hanging over everything and across the street Marvyn was pulling his own hat low over his face.
“Oh man, this is gonna be fun,” Robin crowed. “He’s definitely up to something.”
“He definitely looks suspicious,” Rolf agreed, peering over Robin’s shoulder at the person in question. If Marvyn was supplying Death Eaters with dark objects, this would be a good tip for the Order. “So we’re just going to follow him and see what he’s up to?”
Robin moved slightly to improve Rolf’s line of sight, peering at Marvyn intently. He stopped, talking to someone Robin couldn't place and then he started walking again. He reached back, his hand briefly touching Rolf’s arm, pulling him forwards as he started to follow Marvyn. “We're definitely following him. I just wanna see who’s supplying him.”
Robin let his hand drop, letting go of Rolf’s arm. “When was the last time you followed anyone?”
“Um. I once followed Edmund Brown around the third floor to see what he was up too. I took ten points from him,” Rolf added, clearly very proud of this accomplishment. Marvyn was on the move again, steadily skulking down the block, and Rolf eagerly nudged Robin forward. “Don’t worry, I won’t screw anything up.”
“I'm sure you were delighted,” Robin said, a slight smirk curling the corners of his mouth up. Marvyn walked in through different groups of people, weaving through the streets. Robin kept his eye on him, hanging back as much as possible without losing him.
“I'm not worried about you screwing things up, Rolf. You just got to listen to me. Can you still see him?”
For one horrifying moment, Rolf thought he had lost track of Marvyn as he fell in step beside Robin. He had lost the perp, as they said in some crime dramas. But after a few seconds of scanning the crowd, his eyes caught sight of the back of Marvyn’s jacket and he smiled, relief washing over him. “Yes,” he said urgently, tugging at Robin’s sleeve. “He just took a left into that alley.”
Robin nodded to show he'd heard, walking past a few people and looking down the alley. It led towards another street. It was good to go to follow. He turned his head, jerking it and started to make his way down the alley.
Marvyn was wearing black. It was annoying to try and pinpoint him in the heavy shadows cast by the other buildings. Robin sighed. “Why couldn't he be in your red jumper? Give him a ring and tell him to go change.”
“Oh, certainly,” Rolf whispered, his eyes trained on what seemed like a moving figure (so it must’ve been Marvyn, right?) “I’ll give him a ring and say ‘Hello, Marvyn old boy. Want to paint the town red? I’ve got just the jumper for you—is he stopping?”
Rolf threw a hand up to catch Robin’s shoulder. Marvyn had stopped a little over halfway to the opposite end of the alley, closer to the side that spilled out into Carkitt Market.
Robin’s laughter died only when Rolf’s hand hit his shoulder, letting it dissolve into the alley’s air. He peered forward into the dark, trying to pinpoint where Marvyn was and what he was doing. Moving closer, he said, “This is why I wanted you with me — it's much less suspicious if there's someone here for me to talk to.”
Adopting a more casual stance, Robin looked from Rolf to the man at the other side of the alley. He was on his phone. “Stand in front of me, yeah?”
“Okay, sure,” Rolf replied, manoeuvring around so he was in front of Robin. He stole a few glances at Marvin, though, quietly wondering why he was skulking about a random alley. Was he meeting a contact? This was all so intriguing. “Now what do you want me to do?”
“Just act natural,” Robin said, voice low. “Talk. Laugh. Flip your hair back.” He looked at Rolf expectantly, keeping an eye on the man over his shoulder.
Rolf stared. “But I’m wearing a hat?”
“Flip your head then,” Robin said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Marvyn was still on the phone, pacing, at the mouth of the alley, talking furiously into his phone. Robin hoped it was a frustrating conversation. He flexed his fingers slightly, wondering how long they’d have to stand there, and then Marvyn hung up. The man stood still for a moment and then he turned, heading back their way.
He was moving like a man on a mission.
Robin shifted his gaze from Marvyn to Rolf, eyes widening for a moment. Marvyn was hurrying towards them, had clearly seen them: Robin knew that he’d recognise him if he stopped or looked close enough and he couldn’t have that.
Robin had an idea. It (probably) wasn’t a very good idea.
Lifting his hand, he curled his fingers into the front of Rolf’s jumper and took a few steps forward, crowding Rolf until his back hit the wall. He could hear Marvyn’s footsteps getting closer, but Robin let himself ignore it as he leaned in, tilting his head down and covering Rolf’s mouth with his own. Rolf made a soft noise of surprise, a little ‘oh!’, as Robin’s mouth pressed against his. His hands moved to Robin’s shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as his eyes closed.
Alarms were sounding off in the back of Rolf’s mind — what was going on, why was Robinet kissing him, Robinet was kissing him? — but it didn’t take long for those concerns to be deemed irrelevant. He was operating on autopilot as his hands slid down to Robin’s waist, tugging him forward in order to kiss him more thoroughly. Marvyn and his goings on were the very last thing on his mind.
Robin pressed in closer to Rolf, one hand still clutching the front of his jumper, the other settling at the back of his neck. His fingertips brushed against their hair there and Robin leaned into the kiss. A reckless desire to deepen it wound through him and Robin had been known for his recklessness in the past.
It was too tempting. He didn’t resist the urge. Instead, Robin let his fingers pull gently at the hair on the nape of Rolf’s neck, tilting his head up, kissing him deeper. His knee had settled between Rolf’s legs, pressing them open slightly, and Robin could feel the brick wall through the material of his jeans.
He didn’t pay attention to it at first — Rolf was kissing him, it was entirely more interesting and he wasn’t that rude — but then he shifted just slightly and his knee dragged against the wall. Oh. Yes.
Robin pulled back and looked at Rolf, blinking slightly. “I,” he started and then: “Uh, is there anyone else in this alley still?”
Rolf reluctantly pulled back as well, his hands shifting back up from more forbidden territory as his breathing came in rapid inhales and exhales. Disappointment was written plain on his face, but the expression was fleeting. He tore his eyes away from Robin in order to look around the alley, simultaneously willing his heart to slow down.
“We’re alone,” he said, slowly. He looked at Robin. Then, as if this was only just dawning on him, “So this was like a disguise? So he wouldn’t see you?”
Robin took a half-step back, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. He looked uncomfortable and he felt the need to do something with his hands. Reaching up, he pulled his hat off and ruffled his hair, looking away from Rolf at the alleyway Marvyn must have left out of. Unconsciously, his tongue darted out to lick at his bottom lip.
“I guess,” he said, shrugging. “I don’t think he did, anyway.” Robin shoved his hat in his pocket and then looked at Rolf again, giving him a once-over. He reached out, hand going to clap his shoulder. “We’ve — I mean, we should go see if we can find him again.”
“I think I actually have to go do something,” Rolf blurted out, slipping out of Robin’s grip, away from the wall, and backing up a few feet. He could feel his face reddening as he spoke but he kept going, steadily putting distance between the two of them. “My jarvey’s still in my bathroom and I think I saw Francine? On the street? She probably needs help coming up with a way to lock the Death Eaters in an endless abyss so I should — go. Yes. Sorry!”
“But,” Robin started to say, frowning deeply at Rolf. There was a deep line between his brows and he wanted to list all the reasons that Rolf should stay, primarily that he hadn’t found out what Marvyn was up to yet and he didn’t want to do it alone. He opened his mouth to start listing them and then found himself shrugging. Rolf wanted to go. That was fine.
“Sure, whatever,” he said, with a degree of casualness he was very good at. “I’m sure you saw Francine. I’ll let you know if I get Marvyn.” Robin sunk his hands into his pockets and took a few steps away from Rolf, who obviously didn’t want to stick around him. “See you, man.”
“See you,” Rolf echoed. He left the alley wondering why it felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.