Disclaimer: Robin Hood belongs to Tiger Aspect and the BBC. All rights reserved. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's Note: Further fic in the Housework series.


Bed

"Ouch," Guy exclaims.

"What's the matter?" Robin asks, resting his bow just inside the open doorway and shrugging his quiver off his back.

"Caught my damn finger." Guy shakes his right hand, sucks on his index finger.

"Doing what?" Robin asks.

"Tucking corners." Guy waves his injured hand at the huge bed that dominates the middle of Robin's – correction – Robin and Guy's bedchamber.

"Why the hell are you bothering with them?" Robin asks, grinning in amusement. "We only end up trashing the bed every night."

"That," Guy says, examining his injured finger, "is no reason to let standards slide." Gingerly, he tucks in the final corner, smoothing the silky black sheet with his hands, a satisfied smile on his face.

"And black," Robin says, gesticulating at the perfectly spread and tucked bed sheet. "Rather a stupid colour, considering what we do on it."

"I like black," Guy retorts. "And stains will always wash out."

Robin clamps his mouth, attempting to stifle a snort of laughter. "Anyone would think you like doing housework the way you talk."

"I do not like doing housework," Guy scowls. "I just like things being clean and tidy. Talking of which," he says, nodding at Robin, "your clothes could do with a wash. You haven't changed them in days. I'm surprised they don't walk off you."

Robin glances at his muddied shirt and breeches. "Point taken," he says, starting to undress.

"I didn't mean now," Guy says, eyes widening in alarm.

"Now is as good a time as any, surely."

Guy eyes the newly made bed and the spotless bed sheet, sighs.

Grinning, Robin yanks off his boots and slides his breeches down his legs, quickly followed by his linen braies. He kicks the two items into the dirty washing corner, then pulls his shirt over his head, adding both that and his neck scarf to the pile. Finally, he loops his outlaw tag over his head and tosses it across the room, where it expertly lands on the bedside table.

"Now, I'll bath," he says, marching towards the door.

"Wait!" Guy shouts.

Robin hesitates, half in, half out the open door. He turns around. Guy is frantically unbuckling his trouser belt.

"What about the bed?" Robin asks, the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement at Guy's desperate belt fumbling.

"Who gives a fuck about the bed," Guy growls, jerking his leathers down his muscular thighs. "Come here."

Robin pulls the door shut and, with a happy grunt, lets Guy manhandle him onto the carefully made bed.


"You're not angry with me, are you?" Robin asks, snuggling into Guy, one hand trailing up and down Guy's hairless chest, while the other plays with Guy's long, dark hair.

Guy turns lazily towards the naked outlaw. "Why would you say that?"

Robin pushes up onto one elbow and inclines his head at the now less than pristine bed sheet.

"It's fine," Guy says. "Besides, I have a batch of coloureds to do in any case. Another sheet won't make that much difference. Just be sure to pilfer me some more soap when you're out robbing later because we're nearly out."

"Anything else while I'm at it?" Robin slides his arm from Guy's warm flesh and rolls towards the edge of the bed.

"Yes," Guy says, turning to the bedside table and snatching up a piece of parchment. "I made you a list."

Robin takes the parchment and reads. "Why on earth do you want more eyeliner?" he asks, scooping up his muddied clothes from the dirty washing corner. "You hardly need to make yourself look pretty for me, and you know how jealous it makes some of the less wealthy girls in the village."

"Just do it, all right," Guy snaps. "And don't be late home," he calls, as Robin, dressed once more, picks up his bow and quiver and heads out the door.

"Yes, Mother," Robin calls back cheekily.

Guy sticks two fingers up at Robin, but Robin has already disappeared.

Angrily, Guy stomps over to the window, flings the shutters open and leans out. "And you could have left me those clothes as well," he shouts down to Robin.

"Later," Robin shouts back, raising an arm and waving.


After Guy has done the washing, including the soiled bed sheet, he decides it is time to do some shopping of his own.

Now, open-mouthed, Robin stands in the bedroom doorway. "What," he asks Guy, "is that?"

"New leather mattress protector, come sheet," Guy says, smiling, obviously pleased with himself and his latest purchase.

"Come sheet," Robin echoes. "Very apt choice of words."

"You know what I mean," Guy says.

Robin puts down his stolen goods and his weapons and goes to inspect the black bed covering. "But where are the sheets? You can't expect us to sleep on that, surely."

"It'll save on the washing," Guy explains. He walks to the bed and runs a hand lovingly across the shiny black leather. "Better still," he says, "it's wipe clean."

As if to prove his point, Guy spits on the bed and then wipes the leather with a piece of cloth. "See," he says, waving a hand at the spotless mattress protector, come sheet.

Robin does not wish to spoil Guy's pleasure, especially since Guy's sword is resting so closely to the bed, but he does have some serious misgivings about the latest addition to Locksley Manor.

"It'll be cold," he says, "especially in winter."

"I'm sure we'll find ways of warming it up," Guy smirks. "Why don't we try it out now?"

"I'm not sure I'm really in the mood for—"

"Come on," Guy interrupts. "I'll wear the gold stilettos if you like."

Robin grins. They normally reserve the high-heeled shoes for special occasions, like toasting another successful raid on the castle, or convincing Marian that she has a headache and will therefore not be seeing Robin that evening.

"In that case," Robin says, undressing and flinging his clothes into the dirty washing corner, "I'm all yours.


By the third time Robin has slipped off the bed, Guy is willing to admit that the leather sheet might have been a mistake.

"I expect a few bangs and bruises when I have sex with you," Robin grumbles, picking himself off the floor and rubbing his elbow, "but not like this."

"Sorry," Guy says. "It was worth a try, though, if for nothing else than to save on soap."

Robin heaves himself back onto the bed and plants a kiss on Guy's stubbled cheek. "Never mind. Let's have some wine to cheer ourselves up. And then we can, you know," he says with a wink.

"What?" Guy asks, sliding his bare butt back and forth across the shiny leather and smiling a happy smile.

"Wipe clean, remember?" Robin grins. "And waterproof," he adds.

Guy grins back. "Good idea. We might as well get some use out of it. After all, I did have to skewer a pesky peasant to get it made to the right size."

"Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la," Robin singsongs, at the top of his voice. Some of Guy's purchasing methods he really does not want to know about.

A short while later, distinctly smelling of spilled wine and sex, Robin heads off for his much-needed bath.

Sighing, Guy strips the soiled leather from the bed. Oh well, he thinks. It might not make a great bed sheet, but with a bit of trimming it will make a very nice headboard. There might even be enough leather left for a new shoulder bag.

Guy smiles. Sometimes living with Robin Hood is all right.

~ fin ~