Chapter Text
Robert’s journey back to his flat goes past him in a blur. He doesn’t even register how hot it is on the bus, and he’s sweating buckets but he can’t really bring himself to care. All he wants is to read what Aaron left him in his notebook.
By the time Robert gets home, he’s completely sweated through his shirt, dripping, and clammy, he almost feels nauseous, feverish. Somehow, the heat is actually worse in his flat, if Robert thought that could even be possible, and despite how much he wants to read Aaron’s words he prioritises opening all the windows, and grabbing a cold beer from the fridge. Robert is only now painfully aware, in Aaron’s absence, of just how quiet and empty his flat is. Has it always been this empty? And Robert supposes sadly that it has ever since Vic moved out, his flat being an almost continuation of his life, functional, basic, but really devoid of anything that made it feel like home.
The cold beer feels like a godsend as it slips easily down his throat, and even though Robert still feels like he’s burning up from the inside, it eases slightly. He then spies his notebook sitting unassuming on his coffee table, a pen resting on top of it, and as Robert settles down on the sofa with his beer balanced between his knees, he feels that overwhelming nausea once again, because the words penned in his notebook feel like they might make or break him.
Robert flicks through the pages with shaking fingers until he finds what he’s looking for, taking a sharp intake of breath before he starts to read.
Robert,
I don’t really know why I’m doing this in a letter, but I feel like people don’t write letters enough these days, and I guess it kind of fits the mood of what I’m trying to say… maybe. I’ve never really been one for romantic gestures, until I met you.
I’m writing this while you sleep in the other room. When I woke up, I desperately wanted to wake you up because I feel like any moment not spent with you currently is a moment wasted, but you looked so peaceful and calm, I couldn’t do it, so here I am. I’m spilling everything I want to say to you on paper, because I’m a coward. I wasn’t lying to you last night when I said I was petrified… My feelings for you scare me shitless, and part of me hates you for it. I know that’s irrational and stupid, I’m well aware of that, but it’s so fucking cruel that we have had such a short time together.
I’m not sure you entirely realise just how special you are. You are the most self-deprecating person I’ve ever met, you’re gentle and unassuming, you save people’s lives for a living and you don’t even understand how important that makes you. I’m not blind, I can see that you’re unhappy, and that you’re lonely, and people as wonderful as you don’t deserve to ever feel that way.
I woke up this morning to a text from Finn, and do you know what it said? He said for me to hold on to you, he told me how you couldn’t keep your eyes off me, and the way you reacted when he told you about what Brendon did to me. He said you looked like you wanted to give me the world… and this got me thinking, because that’s exactly how I feel about you. If someone had told me a week ago that I’d pick up this guy at a shitty gay club, and end up falling in love with them over the space of a weekend I would have straight up laughed in their face, but that’s exactly what’s happened. And now I’ve seen those words written down, it’s so true, Robert. I fucking love you and it’s so stupid. I am so stupid, I’m a horrible person because I suspect you feel the same, and yet I still have to leave you.
I know you won’t understand why, not really, but I have to do this for myself. I spent so long in a relationship that I worked so hard at, just for the person that I loved more than anything to almost beat me to death. So I can’t rely on love, I can only rely on myself, despite how selfish that sounds, it’s true. I need this fresh start to prove to myself that I can stand on my own two feet, regardless of how scary that prospect is.
I hope you don’t hate me too much, and I hope you know that I’ll think about you when it rains. I’ll think about how you kissed me, because I know that it must have taken every ounce of bravery in you to do that. You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, and I sincerely hope that you continue to be brave, because that’s all we can really do at the end of the day, isn’t it?
You’re amazing, and I love you. I mean it.
I love you.
Aaron
At the bottom of the letter, Aaron has scribbled out a short sentence, but Robert can just about make it out.
Come with me.
The full implication of Aaron’s written words crashes down on Robert then, like a pile of bricks, and Robert’s fingers are gripping the notebook so tightly that his knuckles go white. He now understands why Aaron thought he’d shown up at the station, he must have thought that Robert wanted to come with him, and he can’t even begin to understand how much pain Aaron must have been in when he realised that wasn’t why Robert had shown up.
Robert hurls the notebook against the wall with a force he didn’t realise he was capable of. He’s so angry, angry at himself, angry at Aaron, angry at the fucking universe because how is any of this remotely fair? And Robert realises with sickening clarity that he would have gone with Aaron, had Aaron properly asked him. Fully knowing how mad it is, and being fully aware of the risks, Robert still would have done it, if it had meant being able to keep Aaron by his side.
He finishes off his can of beer and slams it down on the table with such force that it makes the flimsy piece of furniture wobble alarmingly, pulling his phone out of his pocket, then cursing when he sees his phone is almost flat. Dialling Aaron’s number with shaky fingers, not even fully sure what he wants to say if he even picks up, but he doesn’t. It goes to voicemail, and Robert finds himself becoming irrationally angry at the automated voicemail, that is until Aaron’s recorded voice fills his ears.
’You know what to do. Speak to me after the beep, then do one!’
An echo of Aaron’s laughter at his own automated message fills Robert’s ears, and his eyes sting as he starts to speak.
‘Um… hi, it’s me…’ Robert pauses, pressing his fingers into the corners of his tired, scratchy, tearful eyes. ‘I read your note… I love you too, okay. So much… I don’t know what to do, Aaron I do-’
He’s cut off abruptly by his battery dying and Robert throws his phone to the floor, narrowly missing the table in the process. Letting out a loud curse he stands up, a wave of hopeless exhaustion hits him at full force. It’s futile. Aaron will be on his way now, starting his new life, and Robert wants to be happy for him, but it doesn’t stop his heart from hurting like it’s never hurt before. Not even losing half his family hurt this bad, he couldn’t do anything about that, but he could have done something about this, it’s just too late.
Robert feels a headache starting in his temples, and he decides that a nap will quell it, and hopefully ease the aching pressure in his chest. Or at least allow him a few hours of blissfully empty darkness where he doesn’t have to think about Aaron, about his eyes, or his smile, or anything to do with him.
Robert listlessly undresses himself as he makes his way towards his bedroom, not bothering to pick anything up because really what is the point? It’s just him in his shitty little flat, and no one is going to really care if he picks his crap up or not. Now mercifully only clad in boxers, he’s just about to flop down onto the bed, ready for the oblivion of sleep to overtake him when he remembers something that causes him to stop in his tracks.
Robert feels like heart is beating far too hard in his chest as he pulls open the door to his wardrobe, revealing his own meagre collection of clothes… and the shirt that Aaron left behind. He gently removes the shirt from the hanger and lifts the shirt up to his face slowly, hoping against all hope that it still smells like Aaron, and not like all of Robert’s clothes. And he feels his throat constrict as he presses his face into the shirt, allowing Aaron to take up his senses once more. The shirt still smells like him, like cigarettes and cologne, and something distinctly Aaron, and it makes Robert feel weak. He climbs on top of his sheets, Aaron’s shirt still clutched in his hands, and as he inhales deeply, he can see Aaron in his mind, like a snapshot, indelibly imprinted. The way he looked on Friday night, clutching his pint, his confident smirk and his bitten nails, his eyes dark with lust and need…
Robert cums with his face buried in Aaron’s shirt, the coarse material stifling the choked out sob of Aaron’s name.
**
Robert awakes with a start, his face still smushed into the fabric of Aaron’s shirt. The room is almost dark, the sky outside a haze of purples and blues, casting an almost ethereal light throughout the room. He blinks, wondering what it could have been that woke him with such a violent start, but then a loud pounding on his front door answers that question for him. Standing up on wobbly legs, Robert almost staggers to his front door, his feet getting caught on the clothes he discarded earlier, and he curses as he knocks into the wall. The pounding on his door gets louder and more insistent and Robert glares as he fumbles with the latch, eventually getting the door open.
Before Robert can even comprehend who it actually is at the front door, they’re barrelling into his chest and wrapping their arms around his neck, and it takes a good ten seconds for Robert’s brain to register that it’s Aaron.
‘Why don’t you answer your fucking phone?!’ Aaron growls into Robert’s neck and Robert just blinks because this is surely a dream? Right? He’s still asleep, this is all just a product of pure and simple wishful thinking.
Robert can’t seem to engage his brain and his mouth so he just wraps arms tightly around Aaron and breathes him in. He doesn’t smell fresh by any means, but he smells like Aaron and that’s enough for Robert, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of that smell.
‘What are you doing here?’ Robert finally manages to ask, pulling away from Aaron slightly so he can look the shorter man in the eye. Aaron looks absolutely knackered, and he has dark rings under his eyes, and his face looks drawn and pale, yet he still manages to look breathtaking.
‘I couldn’t do it,’ Aaron mumbles, and he drops his eyes down, like he’s ashamed and doesn’t want to see Robert be disappointed in him, like Robert could ever possibly be disappointed in him.
Robert rests his hands gently on Aaron’s shoulders, causing Aaron to look up at him once again. Robert notices that Aaron’s suitcase and rucksack are sitting forlornly in the hallway, and he realises that Aaron must have come straight here.
‘You came straight here…’ Robert says faintly and Aaron nods, picking up his things and pushing past Robert, allowing Robert to try and process what this really means. Aaron closes the door gently, and leans against it, his eyes focussing on Robert once more.
‘Got about as far as Doncaster. You left me that fucking voicemail, and how could I keep going after that? I tried to call you back but it just kept going straight to voicemail… I thought you might have done something stupid…’ Aaron trails off and Robert’s stomach plummets at the insinuation.
‘My phone died,’ Robert says with a kind of urgency, like he needs Aaron to know that he could never do anything like that. ‘I forgot to charge it last night and I was in the middle of leaving you that voicemail and it--’
‘I need to hear you say it again,’ Aaron says, cutting Robert off mid-sentence, and Robert understands immediately what Aaron wants from him.
‘I love you,’ Robert says simply, and he surprises himself by how easily the words come out this time, all traces of fear gone now that Aaron is in front of him.
‘I love you too.’ Aaron’s words are gentle but then completely juxtaposed with the force at which he kisses Robert, his fingers hooking behind Robert’s ears and pulling him impossibly close. It’s so fucking surreal to Robert, to have Aaron in his arms once again, kissing him like he’ll die if he doesn’t, and Robert allows himself to be swept along, savouring every sensation. The way Aaron tastes stale, like coffee and cigarettes, the way his hair is tacky and greasy with product, and how he’s panting against Robert’s lips, breathy and needy.
Robert almost hoists Aaron up, he feels breathless and frantic, not able to get Aaron close enough to him, despite the fact that he’s now draped over him, his chest heaving against Robert’s.
‘Oh fuck,’ Robert grunts, his fingers dragging up Aaron’s back, damp with sweat, causing the material of his shirt to cling to his skin, which would be a bit disgusting if Roberet wasn’t so aroused.
Aaron drags his lips away from Robert’s, his eyes glinting in the darkening room.
‘Fuck, I want you, please,’ Aaron whispers and Robert gives in, staggering backwards a little as he attempts to right himself, pulling Aaron along with him as he goes. The air is suffocating, and Robert’s head is swimming, like he’s drunk on lust, drunk on Aaron, and drunk on the high he feels from having the man he loves close to him like this.
‘Yes, yes, okay…’ Robert pants, capturing Aaron’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging as he concentrates on yanking Aaron’s shirt over his head, and as it falls to the floor Robert abruptly trips over his discarded shoes from earlier, sending them both crashing to the ground. Robert lets out a groan, and it’s combined by a very manly shriek from Aaron as they both collapse in a heap in the middle of the living room.
‘Fucking shoes,’ Robert growls, shifting so he can remove the offending article from under his arse. This makes Aaron start to laugh, his head thrown back on the floor, one leg resting over Robert’s bare one. Robert props himself up on his elbow and looks down at Aaron who’s body is now almost doubled over in laughter, and Robert feels a swell of love so strong that he surges forward and captures Aaron’s lips in a kiss, swallowing down his laughter.
Aaron laughs against his mouth but it’s soon replaced with a moan as Robert brackets Aaron’s thighs with his own, never breaking the kiss as his fingers go low to run over Aaron’s toned stomach, the muscles jumping under the pads of Robert’s fingers. Aaron’s skin is still damp and Robert has an overwhelming desire to lick every inch of him, eager to taste the salt on his tongue. His lips stray from Aaron’s mouth, letting his tongue drag and teeth scrape against Aaron’s stubbly cheek.
‘Robert,’ Aaron whines, head tilting back, allowing Robert access to lick lower. His cock is aching in his boxers but ignores it, he has Aaron to himself and he wants to savour every single inch of him. Letting his tongue brush teasingly over one of Aaron’s nipples, his fingers dancing over Aaron’s hips, tucking under the waistband of his jeans and boxers.
‘Don’t tease,’ Aaron whimpers, pushing his hips up and Robert takes a second to look up at Aaron. He looks wrecked already and Robert hasn’t even touched him properly yet.
‘You want me to fuck you right here?’ Robert murmurs, kneeling over Aaron once more, careful not to crush the smaller man. He grips his cock, wanting to ease the pressure as he waits for Aaron to answer.
Aaron nods so fast he must get whiplash from it, and Robert gazes down at him intently, Aaron squirming below him, pushing his hips up again towards Robert, like he’s begging silently for Robert to touch him.
‘How do you want it?’ Robert asks, enjoying this power play because he senses that he could probably get Aaron to do whatever he wants right now, and that feeling goes immediately to his cock and leaves him reeling.
‘Rough,’ Aaron grinds out, his tongue flicking out to catch a bead of sweat pooling on his top lip. Robert feels his self-restraint snap and his hands go to the zipper on Aaron’s jeans, tugging it down with deft fingers, and he lifts his hips, allowing Aaron to shrug his jeans and boxers off until he’s breathless and wanting underneath Robert.
‘Aaron, you have no fucking idea,’ Robert mumbles, and he shuffles down so he can run his tongue along Aaron’s hip bone, fingers now digging into Aaron’s thighs, holding him still as he savours how Aaron tastes.
‘I wanna--’ Aaron starts but it’s cut off by a loud moan as Robert runs the flat of his tongue over the tip of Aaron’s leaking cock, his mouth watering at the taste. Aaron’s fingers tangle in Robert’s hair and he lets out a loud whimper as Robert presses the tip of his tongue under the sensitive head, Aaron’s hips jerking up involuntarily.
‘I want you to fuck me from behind,’ Aaron finally gasps out, and there’s a deep flush to his face and chest now that makes Robert run hot and cold all at the same time. They haven’t fucked like that yet and Robert would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t like the idea of pushing Aaron down and fucking him face down into the carpet.
‘Turn over,’ Robert says softly, shuffling back to allow Aaron the room to move, and Aaron complies without a word.
Robert hums appreciatively as Aaron positions himself, arse in the air, legs parted a little. He squeezes his own cock through his boxers, aware that he’s leaking all over the material but he doesn’t allow himself the friction for long, too preoccupied with Aaron and the small needy noises he’s making. He grips Aaron’s arse cheeks and spreads them apart, spitting on Aaron’s hole, and this alone has Aaron whimpering, his hips moving forwards a little, though they’re quickly stilled by Robert’s grip.
Circling two fingers over Aaron’s hole, Robert swallows slowly because Aaron is so receptive to touch, and there’s already a sheen of sweat gracing his pale skin.
‘Put your fingers in me, please,’ Aaron begs, and who is Robert to deny him when he’s asked so nicely? He slowly pushes two fingers inside Aaron’s tight body, remembering how much he liked it like that before, and Aaron let out a grunted curse, causing Robert to still.
‘I can go get the lube?’ Robert asks, worried now that he’s hurting Aaron.
‘No… I like it like this,’ Aaron growls, and that’s definitely an avenue to explore later, Robert thinks as he slowly slides his fingers all the way inside.
Aaron immediately starts to push back onto Robert’s fingers which makes Robert’s cock pulse at how much Aaron wants it. He leans down and presses his mouth to the soft skin of Aaron’s arse as he fucks him quickly with his fingers. He can tell by the noises Aaron’s making that this is just a formality, that he’s as desperate for Robert’s cock as Robert is to be inside him.
After a few minutes of fucking Aaron relentlessly with his fingers he slides them out, because honestly Robert now feels like he might combust if he doesn’t fuck Aaron soon.
‘I’m just gonna go get the lube,’ he says softly, pressing a wet kiss to the base of Aaron’s spine.
‘No,’ Aaron moans, his voice sounding a little muffled, and Robert frowns. ‘I like it a bit dry,’ his voice now sounds thick and Robert shudders.
‘Are you sure?’ Robert wishes he could see Aaron’s face properly.
‘’Yeah, fuck… please.’
Robert’s heart is pounding in his chest as he tugs his boxers down, freeing his aching cock. He spits liberally into his hand before slicking his cock up, a little nervous because he’s never fucked anyone like this before, but he pushes the nerves down as he lines his cock up, letting the head drag and catch against Aaron’s hole.
Robert groans at the same time Aaron gasps, Robert’s sweaty fingers gripping at Aaron’s slender hips. He wants to leave bruises, to see the stark contrast of blacks and blues on pale skin, so he can reassure himself that he has Aaron, and Aaron isn’t going to leave him any time soon.
Robert slides in fully on the first thrust, Aaron had said he wanted it rough and while Robert doesn’t want to hurt Aaron, that’s the last thing he wants, but he understands that Aaron needs this, and he knows Aaron will tell him to ease up if he needs to.
Robert is proved right by the loud drawn out whine emitting from Aaron from where his face is pressed into the carpet, his arms braced at the elbows to support himself. He stills inside Aaron, trying to regulate his breathing, because Aaron feels even tighter than before, if that’s even possible.
Aaron’s hips twitch in Robert’s hands and Robert runs one hand slowly up the length of Aaron’s spine, and Aaron arches into it, letting out a shuddery moan.
‘Fuck me,’ he pants, twisting his head a little to the side so that Robert catches a glimpse of flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. His fists are balled so tightly his knuckles are going white.
Robert complies. He starts to fuck into Aaron in ernest, and Robert is overwhelmed by how fucking good Aaron feels, griping his cock perfectly to the point where Robert knows he isn’t going to last long, and suspecting that Aaron won’t either.
The slick sounds of skin meeting skin sound perfectly obscene to Robert’s ears, coupled with the noises that Aaron is making he thinks he could fuck Aaron like this forever. Loving the way Aaron moans his name, the way Aaron just keeps taking it, the way his entire body jerks every time Robert hits that spot inside him, and he loves Aaron so entirely that he feels consumed by the intensity of his emotions.
‘Aaron,’ he groans, fingers digging into Aaron’s hips, his grip tightening to signal his impending release. Aaron thrusts his hips back into Robert’s thrusts one more time, and then Robert is cumming, his head falling forwards and hanging between his shoulders as he fills Aaron up. Robert’s thighs shaking with the effort of holding himself up.
Aaron lets out a sob of pleasure and Robert pulls gently out of him, and in one swift motion rolls the smaller man over so he’s laying flat on his back. Robert leans down and takes Aaron’s neglected cock into his mouth, and his cries sound hoarse as Robert starts bobbing his head. It takes less than thirty seconds before Aaron spills down Robert’s throat, and Robert swallows him down, swallowing everything before pulling off.
Aaron draws his knees up and Robert rests his sweaty forehead against them, his breathing coming out sharp and choppy, matching Aaron’s who is staring at the ceiling, looking thoroughly fucked and blissed out.
‘You are an incredibly good shag,’ Aaron laughs after a few minutes and Robert grins against the skin on Aaron’s knee, shutting his eyes because he feels untouchable right now, the high from his orgasm having not quite left him, and Aaron’s laugh sounds like music to his ears.
‘And you’re a kinky little fuck,’ Robert retorts.
Aaron just grins at him, looking giddy, and Robert laughs and shakes his head, while Aaron lets his thighs fall open so Robert can settle between them, leaning down to press his lips to Aaron’s gently.
‘You do know I have a perfectly good bed through there?’
Aaron shrugs, inspecting his arms, the red carpet burn already apparent on his skin.
‘I like it… it hurts but it feels good.’
‘Like I said,’ Robert laughs. ‘Kinky… what else do you like that you’re not telling me?’
‘That’s for me to know and for you to find out.’
Robert grins at that and stands up on still shaky legs, getting a head rush as he rights himself. He looks down at Aaron, still prone on the floor.
‘Need a hand?’
Aaron laughs and extends his hand out and Robert pulls him up, Aaron wobbles a little and he leans into Robert’s chest to steady himself, and Robert snakes his arms around Aaron, despite the fact that they’re both a sweaty mess. Robert presses a kiss into the top of Aaron’s head, shocked by how easy intimacy is with Aaron, and that in itself speaks volumes.
‘Oh lovely,’ Aaron groans and Robert blinks out of his reverie.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I can feel your cum running down my legs,’ Aaron squirms and Robert just snorts.
‘I can lick it up if you want?’
This earns a weak groan from Aaron as he slaps Robert’s arm weakly.
‘Don’t say shit like that to me unless you want me to climb you like a tree all over again.’
Robert rolls his eyes and leads Aaron into the bedroom, and as they emerge into Robert’s stuffy bedroom he notices Aaron’s shirt laying crumpled on Robert’s pillow at the same time that Aaron does.
‘My shirt!’ Aaron exclaims, looking over to Robert who has a flush on his face that has absolutely nothing to do with sex or the heat of the room
‘Yeah,’ Robert coughs awkwardly. ‘You left it here…’ he doesn’t elaborate further as to why it appears like Robert has been sleeping with it.
Aaron gives him a knowing smile but doesn’t say anything, which Robert is eternally grateful for, he simply picks the shirt up and lets it drop to the floor before sliding under the sheets. Robert joins him seconds later, and despite the heat of the room he pulls Aaron into his chest.
‘Thank you,’ Aaron mumbles softly, his breath hitting Robert’s chest.
‘What for?’ Robert asks, letting his fingers run over the soft hair on Aaron’s forearms.
‘Loving me… reminding me that people are good. You’re so good, Robert.’
Robert doesn’t really know how to respond with words so he stays silent, his fingers moving up to trace gently at Aaron’s stubbly jaw.
Aaron’s soft snores fill the quiet room within a few minutes and Robert is quite content to just hold him, focussing on how Aaron’s weight on his chest ironically feels like a weight has been lifted from him that he hadn’t been aware he’d been carrying for the longest time.
Robert is well aware that this entire scenario is mental, that there’s lots of things to sort out, but he can’t bring himself to care, because Aaron came back because of him.
Aaron loves him, and even saying those words to himself in his head make Robert euphoric and so fucking brave.
**
The smell of cooking wakes Robert the following morning and he grins to himself, feeling giddy as he picks his way past their discarded clothes to get to the kitchen.
He pauses in the doorway because Aaron is naked and whistling what sounds like ‘American Pie’ as he cooks. Sunlight is streaming through the window and Robert has never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life.
‘Morning,’ Robert says, his voice still a little gravelly with sleep, and Aaron turns around, a serene smile on his face, spatula in hand, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.
‘Quesadilla?’