title: oh, you've got those moves
summary: swing your hips; lose those lips.
author's note: this is for emma (seemslikeaporno) because she luvs beck&robbie and i've never written them before. mad excited. the first line belongs to "hit me like you did the first time" by the flaming lips. and i thought you readers would like to know a tad bit of my own life. multiple cute guys talk to me and i can't be normal. aka, the texting between beck and robbie is my life. what what.
kiss me like you did the first time.
All you have to do –
He leaves his sugary breath on the bed sheets. His fingers slither over pale skin, his eyes bright and his mouth adventurous.
The boy beneath him obliges.
It's never been about the race to Beck Oliver. Robbie Shapiro was new and fresh and clean.
No, Beck thinks, the thing that got him about Robbie Shapiro was his taste.
I wish I could feel you.
His eyes are sparkling and they make Beck's stomach flip.
Baby, I can make you feel so good, Beck whispers against Robbie's lips.
Beck's head is spinning and he can't get enough air. He pulls away and takes in the cold air.
Sorry, Robbie frowns.
His fingertips are warm and soft against Beck's palm. Beck breathes again.
Robbie remembers the day the most. The car was coasting along the road and the faint taste of sea water was in the back of his throat.
He woke up that morning and knew that it was going to be the best day of his life.
Beck Oliver becomes a household name when he is twenty years old.
Robbie sits at home most days, eating Cheerios in their apartment and watching Beck's movies. Robbie writes scripts. So many of them that they fill an entire closet. Robbie wishes Beck had time to read them, but he's so busy with the latest costar – out publicizing their newest movie and they're always so pretty.
Robbie wishes he could be in the spotlight too. So badly that when he closes his eyes, he can see a better world in which Beck didn't come home so late, and he was right next to him on the red carpet, grinning.
Robbie sends his best script to a publisher. It would be pretty low on budget, and it's mostly unknown actors.
Robbie wins an Academy Award for his film, Akin to Laughter, at age twenty two.
He gets to walk the red carpet with Beck Oliver.
They come out together. Throughout every fan message and hate message, they pull through.
When Beck gets back from his movie in Spain, Robbie takes the week off. They make love in their bedroom every minute they regain their strength, marking one another and pressing lips to each others skin. Beck is tanner than usual, dark and bright.
Moonlight streams from the window, hitting Robbie's light skin. He grins at Beck, their naked bodies on the dark comforter.
Beck smiles back; a slow and steady smile that settles on his lips.
Robbie thinks that it would be the perfect scene. The most beautiful moment in all of movie history.
And then Robbie realizes, since they began going out in the summer before college, that Beck Oliver is truly in love with him, Robbie Shapiro.
Robbie presses his lips to Beck's, and Beck sighs happily into Robbie's mouth, sweet breath filling Robbie's lungs.
I love you, Beck says.
They've been dating for three weeks when Beck says it, right out of the blue. They've just been playing video games in Robbie's basement, their toes touching.
Robbie doesn't even bother to pause the game.
He kisses Beck, kisses him all over and grins into his skin, I love you, I love you, I love you.
Robbie's never been much good with talking. Especially texting.
When Jade and Beck break up before graduation, Robbie doesn't know what to say. Should he apologize? Should he offer to bring him out for drinks? He doesn't have an ID, but maybe he could get one.
He sends a text, Hey Beck.
Beck answers back quickly, hey robbie:)
Robbie doesn't really know how he manages to do it, but before he realizes exactly who he's talking to, he sends a text message with the word sofa.
Nothing else. Just sofa.
Before he goes to sleep that night, he realizes that he and Beck just had an exchange just with sitting arrangements.
He smiles as he turns out the light.
Robbie doodles on a stark white page, his Sharpie softly gliding along. He draws things he doesn't know. He draws distant lands and angels and stones with designs on them. He draws Beck's eyes, soft around the edges and warm insides.
Strong fingers close over his shoulder, lightly kneading away his tension.
Beck, Robbie says quietly.
I'm right here, Beck smiles. His teeth are bright. I'm not going anywhere.
Robbie kisses him, his Sharpie softly gliding its ink along Beck's back as Robbie clutches Beck close.
Beck grins up at the sky; his happiness as warm as the sticky air.
You're bright and big and beautiful, he says to the sun.
He wraps his arms around himself, feeling safe and lost and suddenly, he cannot speak, cannot describe the amount of happiness that consumes him.
Breathe, he whispers.
But his breath has been taken away.
The sun's just so pretty and nice and he tries to touch it with his fingertips. He doesn't get there, however.
He's always liked to wake up in the morning without his glasses on. It was the moment of the day that he loved the most, blurred lines and hazy thoughts.
He doesn't see Beck when he first wakes up – wakes up to cold white sheets. They're neat; immaculate.
Beck pokes his head through the door, his eyes bright and his hair combed.
You're awake, he smiles.
Yeah, Robbie smiles back, putting his glasses on, I am.
Beck's face comes from the fog.
Hi, Beck whispers.
His voice is a song.
They make noises that Beck wants to record; delicate, gleeful screams that echoed on the grey wall. Their bodies tangled – moved, writhed, and brushed. Electric shocks from Robbie running his hands through Beck's hair, over and over, sparked as their bodies bumped into one another.
Never stop, Robbie whispers, never ever stop.
Beck laughs, his body brushing Robbie's – tantalizing and right. Swing those hips; lose those lips.
Robbie bucks; Beck loses his control.
Their fingers are interlocked on the gearshift. Beck's eyes are steady on the road. The sun is shining down and Robbie's other hand is outside the window.
It happens too fast. Beck tries to yank his hand away; his eyes wide and his mouth open.
It's too late.
Beck kisses each of Robbie's toes.
I love you because, Beck whispers at the left, big toe.
One, you're incredibly smart, at the second toe.
Two, you are an amazing artist, at the third.
Three, you make me smile, always, at the fourth.
Four, your kisses, at the pinky toe.
Five, you smell like strawberries, at the other big toe.
Six, the way you make me want to live every moment perfectly, at the right second toe.
Seven, Beck laughs at the third, you're horrible singing voice.
Eight, Beck whispers at the fourth, when you look at me with love in your eyes.
Nine, he mumbles, time is running out for us.
Robbie's toes curl.
There's an empty container of whipped cream next to the bed, along with a carton of ice cream.
Beck thinks his mouth tastes like heaven. Robbie and ice cream.
Robbie's skin sticks to Beck's as Beck pulls him in closer.
You smell like chocolate and strawberries, Beck smiles.
Robbie laughs; his chest sticking and unsticking to Beck's as Robbie's laughs fill the room.
Hey Beck, Robbie whispers in the middle of the night.
Yeah, Robbie? Beck laces his fingers in Robbie's, his heartbeat skipping against Robbie's back.
I know, Robbie says quietly, You have to leave soon.
Beck sighs nosily. It echoes across the room.
After a moment, Beck says, I just don't know what to do, Robbie.
Their first night together and Robbie wants to die.
He feels vile, gross. He's a fag. Nothing good.
Beck squeezes Robbie's hand. I like you, Robbie.
Robbie breathes. His mind clears the ugly thoughts.
Robbie has no doubt that day was the worst day of his life.
The air is cold and Beck moves so slowly, Robbie can barely breathe.
It hurts, Robbie says.
Beck clutches Robbie's hand, I'm so sorry.
Robbie breathes; takes in all the air in the room.
Don't leave without me, Robbie sobs.
I have to, Beck whispers.
Beck doesn't breathe, Robbie shakily does.
HAH I BET I TRICKED YOU FOR THE FIRST THREE SENTENCES OF THE LAST PARAGRAPH. YOU PERVS.