Had this sudden ridiculous idea that one night Sander and Robbe were fooling around, and Sander called Robbe out on his clingyness, saying something along the lines of “you can’t keep your hands off of me. Ever.” Robbe, of course, scoffs and says of course he can and suggests that Sander is just as bad. Sander doesn’t believe him, so they set up a challenge. They’re going to kiss, standing up, in the middle of a room, but the only part of them that can touch is their lips. The first one to reach out with their hands loses.
It starts out perfectly fine. They’re kissing, enjoying themselves, laughing occasionally and smiling into it because it’s silly and fun, but then Sander bites Robbe’s lip and does that thing where he opens his mouth wide and it feels like he’s trying to devour him with his lips and tongue; and Robbe is completely lost, overwhelmed by emotion and passion. He’s barely hanging on, barely standing, still trying to give as much as he gets, but he can’t bc he needs his hands. He needs them for support, to help hold him up, but more than that he needs to touch Sander, to feel that he’s there and solid. It’s comforting to have that tactile reference, to always know where Sander is within his space, and kissing him like this is disorienting, confusing, and feels like only half a kiss. He’s missing Sander, even as he kisses him, and is desperate for more contact. He holds on for a few more moments, but less than six minutes after they started, Robbe is encircling Sander’s neck with his arms and plastering himself against his front. Immediately, Sander starts chuckling into his mouth, and Robbe whispers, “shit,” against his lips and gives Sander a light shove to separate them.
Sander laughs and shakes his head knowingly. “Baby, I know you. You didn’t stand a chance. Now, c’mere,” and then he wraps Robbe in his arms and kisses him properly, walking him backwards towards the bedroom. Once they’re there, Sander doesn’t mind Robbe being clingy at all. In fact, it’s a perk.