The sound Peter made at Robin pressing herself against him to pin him down to the couch... well, it wasn't dignified. Not at all. He leaned back into the cushion, grounded foot trying to maintain purchase to keep part of himself on balance while his dislodged leg flexed and he took better stock of himself. She definitely had the advantage of leverage on him and, while he definitely had some long and gangly limbs it wasn't going to help him get out of this. Robin wasn't weak, and all of the intense scrutiny was only throwing him off further. It should have been intimidating, but he found himself admiring the tenacity and control instead and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"So you're trying to help me, is that it?" he asked. His tone had been trying to accusatory but it seemed rather uncomfortably plaintive instead. "It doesn't make sense. I'm twenty-seven, wouldn't this have come up before now? Wouldn't—I thought part of it was just that you're supposed to know."