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Aaron’s nose is like ice against Robert’s shoulder, his breath huffing warm through Robert’s shirt. They’ve been out here for a while now, holding on, trying not to drown. He’s scared of letting go, especially when he knows Aaron doesn’t want him to.
The party is still in full swing, music throbbing underneath his feet, raucous laughter spilling out from the open door. He can just make out Charity and Sam singing loudly to an eighties track and he’s struck by how utterly surreal this whole day has been.
And then he glances down at Aaron, at the dark crown of his head and his tense shoulders and his arms wrapped tightly around Robert’s waist… and nothing else really matters. He’s got his husband, and that's all he wanted in the end.
“Are you cold?” he murmurs into the soft curls behind Aaron’s ear. He presses his mouth to them, breathes in the scent of his shampoo, tries to memorise it and then stops himself. He won’t do that, not tonight. They’ve got the here and now and he won’t think about tomorrow. He can’t.
Aaron shakes his head but he shivers at the same time, body betraying him as it always seems to around Robert. He pulls back a little, eyes reluctant, and lifts his head till his gaze catches on Robert’s. He looks tired, battle-weary, and all Robert wants to do is wrap him up again in his arms and promise that he’ll make every bad thing go away. He aches to say the words, to make the promise, but he knows it’s one he’ll break the following day and he can’t do it to Aaron. He can’t lie, not on their wedding day. He doesn’t have the strength to keep giving him false hope, not when they both know it’s not true.
“Do you want to go inside?” he asks, sliding a hand along Aaron’s thigh and squeezing just a little. They’re so tender right now, so fragile, and it means that every move they make, every look they share is even gentler than it would normally be. Everything they say is a silent goodbye, an aching apology for all that’s gone before. They can’t say it properly just yet, they’ll save that for tomorrow, and Robert knows he’ll break afterwards, when he sees Aaron in that courtroom, when he hears the judge’s sentence, when he has to witness the look of panic and fear crystallise on Aaron’s face.
He’ll break.
But he’ll do it on his own. He’s already planned it out. Him and Chas and Liv will return home, absent the one person they love more than any other, and Robert will excuse himself. He’ll go to the Mill and he’ll sit on the floor and he’ll… do whatever he needs to do. And once it’s over he’ll go back to the pub and he’ll make Liv her dinner and he’ll talk her through the appeal and he’ll… force himself to keep going. Because that’s what Aaron needs him to do, and he won’t let him down. He won’t ever let him down again.
Aaron sighs, rubs a little at his slightly damp cheek, and gives Robert a watery smile. It breaks him even more and he schools his expression into something impenetrable just to counteract the heartache.
“Maybe we could go for a walk?” Aaron suggests, voice hoarse, and Robert won’t refuse even if part of him feels too tired to even stand. The weight of tomorrow, the sheer vastness of the unknown they’re facing, presses down on him, and all he really wants is to take his husband upstairs and hide beneath the covers.
But if Aaron wants to go for a walk then that’s exactly what they’ll do.
“Yeah, course. Where do you want to go?”
Aaron doesn’t say, just gets to his feet and holds out his left hand for Robert to take. The wedding ring glints under the amber haze from the pub windows and they can’t help but stare at it for a moment, marvelling at the reality of where they are and how long it took them to get here.
Robert grasps Aaron’s hand firmly, still a little weak on his feet, and they start walking down the street away from The Woolpack. They don’t speak, don’t need to right now. There’s nothing to say and they’re both happy just knowing the other is there, fingers tangled and knuckles aching from the cold. Robert doesn’t even question the route until they’re suddenly heading down the slope towards Mill Cottage.
Home.
“I don’t have the keys,” Robert says, shock making him stumble a little over the words. Aaron shrugs, pulls out a set from his trouser pocket, and gives Robert a wink before heading over to the front door. Their front door.
“You planned this?” Robert asks as they step inside, the porch somehow even colder than the air outside, and suddenly the darkness is consuming them. Robert fumbles for his phone and switches on the screen so that a faint, blue haze is cast across the empty, hollow room which will soon be their kitchen.
“I didn’t plan it… I just thought it might be nice, to see it one more time before…” He trails off but Robert knows where the sentence had been heading. He’s almost glad Aaron didn’t finish it. He doesn’t want to think about prison when they’re standing in the house that they were supposed to be spending the next few months working on together.
He’s sincerely grateful now for there being no electricity because he would hate Aaron to see his face right now. He switches his phone off just for a second so he can wipe a sleeve over his eyes, clear his throat a little so the tears don’t stay lodged in his throat.
Happiest day of our lives.
God, he wishes that’s all he felt right now.
“You’ve got to promise me one thing.” Aaron’s closer somehow, having snuck up on him without Robert realising, and he startles for a moment until he feels a hand at his waist, underneath his jacket. Then he calms, as he always does when it’s Aaron’s touch.
“Anything,” he breathes, too choked up still to say more. But that alone is enough, really. Aaron knows. He always knows.
Robert feels him press closer, so close their breaths mingle, and he leans in expecting a kiss. Instead, he gets:
“You have to promise me you won’t put in those space-age drawers.”
One beat. Just one beat and then they’re both folding over, giggling like children as Aaron presses his forehead to Robert’s shoulder and Robert grips onto Aaron’s jacket to stay upright. It’s partly the adrenaline of today, and partly the stress of what’s to come tomorrow, but more than any of that it’s the relief knowing they still have this. They can still joke and laugh, can still poke fun and be silly. He never wants to lose this side of them.
“I won’t make a promise I can’t keep,” he says, still wheezing a little, and Aaron’s lips brush over his cheek, light and warm and lingering. Robert chases the connection, pulls Aaron back in to kiss him properly. In the darkness the angle is slightly off their normal fit, Robert’s nose pushing uncomfortably into Aaron’s as they knock teeth by accident, but they don’t care. It feels good being this close, like if they just stay wrapped up together then nothing can touch them.
I’m safe when I’m with you, Robert thinks, unbuttoning Aaron’s shirt a little so he can slide his hand across the skin at his waist. Beneath his thumb he feels the slight indentation of a scar and he stops himself from thinking too much about it, about how badly Aaron had taken prison last time. The thought has been plaguing him ever since they found out Aaron’s court date and he’s barely slept all week, worrying about what state he’ll find his husband in if he truly is sent down.
They end up falling back against a wall that Robert isn’t even sure is sturdy enough to take their weight, but it holds enough for him to press his hips forward, making Aaron gasp against his mouth, tongues still sliding.
They should be doing this at home. Or the pub as it’ll now be referred to. This is their home, but it’s also cold and a bit damp and definitely dangerous in its current condition. The last thing they need is a bit of rubble to come crashing down on their heads.
Still, Aaron’s here and he’s trying to tug off Robert’s jacket and kiss him at the same time and suddenly Robert can’t help but laugh, the situation too similar to their quick, heated hook-ups from years before. It feels like another life, another version of Robert and Aaron. But here, now, Robert is reminded of exactly why he fell for Aaron all that time ago, how much he’d craved that sense of urgency, that heady rush, how they’d rode high on it for months, never sated.
He bites at Aaron’s lip but he’s still laughing, can’t help himself, and soon Aaron is snorting as well, pinching the skin just above Robert’s trousers until he cries out.
“Stop laughing. I’m trying to seduce you,” Aaron complains but Robert can hear the smile in his voice, achingly sweet. Robert kisses him, drags him in again till their sharing breath once more, and tries to commit it all to memory. He said he wouldn’t do this, but he can’t help it now. He needs to be able to have these moments when he’s lying in an empty bed, staring at an empty desk. He needs to have this.
“Is that what you’re doing? I thought you wanted us to go over paint samples,” Robert jokes and immediately has his arm smacked. He laughs again, giddy and terrified all at once, a kaleidoscope of emotion, just broken shards now mismatched and swimming inside him. He clings onto Aaron a little more, pulls him closer, wants to feel every part of him because soon…
“I’m going to take photos,” Robert announces, and he’s not sure why he’s talking about this now because two seconds ago they were trying to strip each other, but something in him has snapped completely and if he just keeps talking… if he just pushes it down enough…
“Photos of what?” Aaron asks, each word dripping with confusion. Robert scrubs a hand over his face, pulls back a little, breathes.
“Of this place. Each stage of the process I’ll take a photo. We can put them into an album, show what it was like when we first bought it right the way through to the day we move in.”
The words come out too quickly, his tongue struggling to keep up as he rushes through. He needs to fill the silence, needs to keep his mind occupied on something else than the knowledge this could be their last night together.
God, he feels sick.
Aaron’s lips press gently to the side of Robert’s mouth and he can feel his throat closing up again. He has to last until tomorrow. He just has to.
“And you called me sentimental,” Aaron murmurs, but it’s tinged with sadness and that’s too much for Robert. He can’t do it. If he tries to speak again he’ll crumble.
It’s too dark to see where he’s going and he almost cracks his skull off a metal bar above his head, but eventually he finds his way back outside, the light of the moon bathing the gravel silver. Aaron appears behind him moments later, arms surrounding him, and Robert lets it happen even though he knows he shouldn’t. He was supposed to be the strong one but right now he just feels so out of his depth. He doesn’t even know how to breathe.
“It’s all right,” Aaron whispers in his ear, rubs at his back with a warm, heavy hand that has Robert melting. He should push him away, tell him he’s fine, but it’s all just so beyond him right now. He can’t do anything but hold on, hold on and swallow down the tears.
“We’ll be all right,” Aaron says, stronger this time, more certain. He buries his face into the crook of Robert’s neck, curls himself tighter, smaller, until there’s no way to distinguish one from the other. They’re just one entity, breathing in unison, holding each other together.
We’ll be all right.
And maybe they will. But they’re not right now and neither of them can pretend any longer. They’re hurting and it’s taking everything they have not to say that out loud.
They shift apart eventually, a little worse for wear but still whole, and Robert takes Aaron’s hand again, leads them both back up towards the pub. The cool metal of Aaron’s ring digs into the space between Robert’s fingers and it’s a comfort really, a reminder that it was real. They got married, and it wasn’t how either of them imagined it happening, but in some ways it was better. It was theirs and theirs alone, a moment cherished between the two of them.
It’s not quite as loud when they get back to the Woolpack. A lot of the Dingles have stumbled towards their respective homes and it’s only Chas, Charity, Noah, Vic, and Adam who are still propping up the bar. They stay together, side by side, and the group look up when they realise the happy couple has entered.
“There you both are!” Chas exclaims, already moving round to the other side of the bar, dark eyes shifting between them, concerned. “Everything… all right?”
It’s Aaron who nods, taking the lead thankfully. “Yeah, we’re fine. Just wanted a bit of a breather, that’s all.” He squeezes Robert’s hand for good measure and, on instinct, he nods as if to confirm Aaron’s statement.
Chas just smiles, though it looks more like a grimace to Robert, and then announces she’s going to head to bed then if no one minds. She slips away and Charity and Noah follow immediately after, making mumbled excuses which neither one of them bothers to listen to.
Vic and Adam come forward only then, the two of them even more in sync than Robert and Aaron. They’re looking between them, evidently trying to read between the lines, and Robert subconsciously moves closer to Aaron, shielding him or hiding he can’t quite work out.
“You’ve had a good time, haven’t you?” Vic ventures, and Robert smiles now, fond if a little strained. He loves her, and he wants her to know he’s happy, but right now he can’t handle anymore questions. He wants to be alone with Aaron.
“It was great. Everything we could have wanted,” he answers, and when Aaron glances at him they share an unspoken agreement. No matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what’s gone before, today really was everything.
“Good,” Vic says, nodding, and turns to Adam who’s just silently watching them both, assessing. “We should probably get going.”
He turns then, evidently seeing something in her eyes which neither Robert nor Aaron have spotted, and quickly nods.
“Yeah, we’ll go, leave you boys to it,” he answers and then halts, gives them another look. “But we’ll be round tomorrow, all right?”
Robert’s surprised Adam’s addressed them both with that kind of information considering he knows that they’ll mainly be there to say goodbye to Aaron. But Adam lingers longer on Robert for some reason and Vic’s staring at him as well, the pair of them far too intense for Robert’s liking.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Aaron answers softly, already tugging Robert along to the end of the bar. He goes willingly, ignores the dread which has built since they stepped foot back inside the pub, and waits for Vic and Adam to have disappeared before crushing Aaron against him once more. The pub’s only lit up with fairy lights and a few Christmas decorations which glow red and gold across the glossy wood of the bar, and when Robert shifts back to take Aaron in, he finds the blue of his eyes have turned a slightly strange shade of amber.
He looks glorious.
“We should go up, get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day,” he says, and every part of him withers at the prospect. He shrinks away from the reality of it, ducks his head just to stop their eyes from meeting again. Aaron’s hand moves up to Robert’s shoulder, holds him steady there, brings him back into the present with just a squeeze.
“It’s our wedding night, there’s no way I’m going to sleep when I’ve finally got my husband all to myself.”
My husband.
It’s the first time he’s heard Aaron say it out loud and it’s like a fist to his windpipe. Everything goes quiet for a moment and then the blood rushes back to his head again, making his thoughts swim. He gulps, shuffles closer until their mouths are just touching, and finds some strength within him to smile.
“Better lead the way, then,” he whispers, gives Aaron’s lips a chaste peck, and tells himself to focus on the now.
Tomorrow will come soon enough.