Every Breath You Take [RDJ Fanfic] - COMPLETED

Seventy

"You're getting crazy again," I breathe into his mouth, not giving a shit that we're a total wreck on the side of the highway.  

Yeah, did I mention that?  Here's what happened.

At dinner, upon paying the bill, the waiter returned with the receipt and Robert's card and quickly dismissed him, and honestly...I think he's a bit upset about it.  Not like intentionally, but the guy got a little star struck...and it wasn't over Iron Man for once.  Instead, he nervously offers his hand in gesture to me and I blink, waiting casually.

"So, I'm not supposed to ask, but uh...I've seen the news about you in the studio and I just need to know, is there an album coming out?  Because I saw you on tour with Sting and I was hoping you'd release some more stuff, especially after the EP..."

"You saw me on tour?" I ask with a genuine grin, and I might have sort of completely forgot about Robert, now invested in this conversation.

"Yeah, I mean, you're really good, I love your writing..." he stammers.  "Is it cool if I get an autograph...like not on the receipt?"

And I laugh, dropping my napkin on my empty plate and nod, taking the pen in his hand and a piece of paper he's handed me.  "I'd love to sign for you," I tell him.  "Especially because you'll be getting Mr Downey's on the receipt."

"Thank you," he sighs, grinning at me when I hand the paper over to him.  "I can't wait to hear your album, if that's what's happening..."

"It is," I laugh.  "Keep an eye out, I'll release info as I get it."

"I will," he promises, then gives me another smile and takes the paper and the signed receipt Robert left to the back to log.

Of course, that leaves me with pressed lips as I look back at Robert, who looks unamused, eyebrow raised and arms folded over his chest as he waits for me to settle.  His pout is adorable, but I know he'll never admit to being jealous of losing the spotlight for a few minutes.

"That's new," he comments, and I narrow my eyes trying to read him.

"You're being ridiculous," I inform him plainly, not wanting to start an argument.  "Are you ready to go?"

"I'm not being ridiculous, he's being ridiculous.  Does he know how much my autograph is worth?"

I nearly snort at that, shaking my head and standing with my bag in hand.  "Someone's full of themselves."

"And someone's letting the newfound fame get to their head," he counters.

"Excuse me?" I ask, starting to lose my temper a little bit.  "I get noticed one time, and you're going to ruin that for me because of your own ego?"

"I'm not ruining anything, I'm just saying, the kid could've had two signatures," he argues.

But his arm snakes around me when he stands to join me in leaving and heading back to the car, and his hand squeezes a little too hard on my hip, encouraging me to squirm in his grip.  It chills me for a second; it's not over aggressive, but for a brief moment I have a flash back to Charlie, back to the dominance.  But I'm trained now...I don't react too much, careful to not let any frustration slip in front of the cameras as he asks valet to bring his car around.  Instead, I just mutter under my breath, straightening my shoulders.

"What's your problem?" I hiss, voice level.

"I told you I don't have one," he answers quietly, gaze straight ahead as the street lights reflect off of the sunglasses he's pulled back out.

"Then let go, you're hurting me," I snap, a little over dramatic, yeah, but I want to see his reaction.

And thankfully he isn't too far gone into his temper, which he did admit to having forever ago when we first started hanging out.  He releases his grip instantly, finally looking over at me, but I don't feel like meeting his eyes, I'm too annoyed and trying to calm down.  But I can sense an immediate shift in mood and his hesitation, which is interrupted by both my wildly beating heart and the valet driver bringing the car around through the small group of paparazzi scouting us out from our arrival.