BRANCE + RINNEY

rinney - quiet communication

"Why doesn't he talk?"

Finn, five years old with red cheeks and a pouted lip, sat in the corner with a pile of playing blocks. He'd cry silently, like he'd do with everything else. He wouldn't cry long though. Not when there were constant eyes on him.

"I don't know. He's just, he just doesn't." Finn could hear the anger in the voice, the burning embarrassment that coated the tongue laid in the person's mouth. He'd cried enough.

"Come on Finney. We're going." He didn't say anything when his arm was grabbed harshly, the blocks once grasped in his hands now falling to the floor with loud clangs. He let himself be dragged away and thrown into the backseat of his father's car, buckled up next to empty beer cans and burnt out cigarettes.

"Why don't you ever talk, huh? It's rude to not talk. Fucking speak, dammit!" Finn flinched at the growth of anger pounding into his ears, the shake of the car that resulted from it.

"You need to speak."

But Finn didn't. He couldn't. Not then, and not later on.

He just couldn't.
—

The headphones pressed over his ears were soft, tight enough to block out the incessant chatter of those around him. The hand on his lap rubbed circles, poking out a finger to tap him with lightly.

Finn turned towards Robin, not removing his headphones as he raised an eyebrow. The boy smiled at him, crossing his arms over his chest briefly before placing them by his sides. Finn nodded his head and stuck his arms out, welcoming the other into a hug.

Robin didn't say anything as he let himself be held. Finn wouldn't hear him if he did, the noise-cancelling headphones he wore constantly making it hard to. Not only that but he was too comfortable too, the warmth of Finn's chest making his skin tingle with heat.

Finn pressed two fingers against the back of Robin's head, tapping them against the surface twice before removing them. Robin smiled.

Backing away from Finn's chest, Robin sighed. "I love you too." The words were mouthed, but Finn understood. He always did.

Finn looked at the notebook in front of him, his eyes tracing along the lines of his drawing, before he closed it softly. He could feel Robin looking at him and he smiled, pushing the notebook into his backpack.

Robin drummed his fingers along Finn's knee, an eyebrow raised in question. Finn nodded his head and Robin stood, interlocking their hands when the other boy got to his feet.

"You only talk when you're around me." Robin was at his desk, stirring around the remains of something in a violet ashtray. "Is it weird?" Finn was sat behind him, his back rested against the wall of the other's bed with his knees pulled to his chest. "No. But, don't you want other friends?" Robin stopped stirring and turned around, the chair he was sat in swiveling to a creaking stop. "You're enough. Aren't you?" Finn sprawled his legs out and smiled, opening his arms for the other. Robin complied and came closer, nestling against the other boy as he climbed onto the bed. "Yeah, I am."

Robin pulled Finn close to him, tucking him into his hip as they made their way towards the park. It was quiet around this time, whistles of wind being the only noise the two passed by.

"Are you cold?" Finn shook his head at the question but pushed himself farther into Robin's side, smiling when the boy ran his hands through his hair. "Can I spend the night at yours? It's just-" Robin nodded his head, pausing his steps momentarily to press a kiss to Finn's nose. "Yeah. 'Course." Finn nodded his head, his face reddening as Robin resumed walking.

The park, as expected, was empty. The nature surrounding it was dull, a thin cloud of fog surrounding it in wisps of white. Finn pulled away from Robin, smiling as he all but ran to the tall monkey bars. Robin followed him, the sound of laughter ghosting around him as he watched Finn climb atop of the rails.

"Tu amigo no habla?" Finn looked between Robin and the boy's mother, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as his headphones muted their conversation entirely. "Habla cuando se siente cómodo." Robin looked at Finn, subtly drumming against the pocket of his jeans in special rhythms. Finn smiled at him, breathing softly as he took deep breaths in and out.

"We met on a set of monkey bars, those rusted orange ones remember? You almost fell on your ass." Robin laughed as he recalled the memory, legs swinging side to side as he adjusted himself on the rails. Finn nudged him with his arm, laughing too. "Asshole, we were only seven." Robin smiled over at him and shook his head, hair swaying into his eyes as he did so. Finn pushed away the strands, smiling more. "You're pretty Robin."

Robin moved Finn's hand from his face and held onto it, counting the freckles grazing the surface as wind blew past him.

"You're pretty too Finn. Real pretty."

"How can you understand what he wants if he doesn't talk?" The question wasn't harsh, not in the slightest. Robin looked between Bruce and Vance, then to Finn. "When Vance wants something but doesn't ask for it, how do you know?" Bruce pushed his back farther into the sofa and smiled. "Oh."

Finn, oblivious to the conversation, looked to Robin from where he was sitting and tapped his fingers against the ground. Robin nodded his head and stood.

"What does he want?" Bruce sat cross legged, holding Vance's hand that had been rubbing at his back for the past ten minutes.

"Me, duh."

The sky was a deep shade of purple when the two boys finally left the park, hands intwined as they smiled at each other.

"Ready to be home?" Finn nodded his head. "Of course."