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He huffs and rolls his eyes as another car explodes on the screen, surround-sound booming and rattling around the flat. It illuminates the otherwise pitch-black room and Robert takes the bright flashes as an opportunity to glance down at Aaron, tucked under his arm and completely enthralled in the laddish antics. It's in moments like this, that Robert is reminded of the age gap between them. Not that he's complaining at all. Robert could happily stay here for hours. They’re curled up on the sofa, making the most of the space and completely legged out; Robert propped up against the arm, right leg stretched along the back of the sofa, left leg hanging over the edge, and Aaron nestled in the space between his thighs.
They were never much for cuddling, before, but it’s nice. A sense of normal that he could once only imagine.
It isn’t the only change that Robert’s noticed. There’s something lighter about Aaron now; he carries himself more confidently, smiles brighter, laughs louder. It’s taken them six long months to get back here, each tentative step they’ve taken in the past four months feeling like a marathon in itself. Seeing Aaron glow in ways he never imagined possible, though, makes it all worth it. Robert remembers the first night he’d stayed over and slept beside Aaron again; he’d never noticed the tension on Aaron’s face, before, or the faint frown that creased his features even in sleep, but he notices its absence now.
But for all Aaron is happier and more comfortable now, Robert feels more on edge than ever before. He isn’t quite sure of his boundaries, what he can and cannot do or say to Aaron yet. It’s driving Aaron mad, Robert knows it every time Aaron huffs and instigates all the first moves himself, but Robert keeps assuring himself it’ll pass, he’ll slowly settle into the relationship again.
Because it will pass.
Won’t it?
“Wish you’d stop huffin’,” Aaron mutters, dragging Robert from his thoughts. His eyes don’t stray from the screen, but he does shuffle onto his side slightly, pillowing his head on Robert’s chest. His heart swells, even if Aaron’s shoulder digs uncomfortably into his stomach. It’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
“Wish they’d stop blowing up perfectly good cars.”
“Don’t have to watch it. Not stoppin’ ya from going to bed.” Aaron grumbles, then pulls back to level Robert with an assessing look, one that has Robert squirming. “You do know that, right? This’s your house ‘n all.”
Lately, Aaron's been asking a lot of questions like this. It makes Robert squirm, uncomfortable as he fears Aaron is edging towards discovery. “No, I know it’s just—”
“Just what?”
(“Why are you here? This isn’t your house Robert!” Aaron’s voice bellows in the back of his mind. The day he returned from Dublin to find Robert moping around. Robert had pushed, Aaron had pushed back. They pushed and pushed until Aaron was yelling, tears streaking down his cheeks and Robert was left with that feeling again, that punch to the gut. Every decision he makes hurts Aaron in the end.)
“Nothing,” Robert assures, perhaps too quickly if the deepening of Aaron's frown is anything to go by. He shakes his head and stands, Aaron twisting to sit upright as the film fades into the background. “I’m being stupid, just ignore me.”
Aaron catches his hand. “Rob—”
“No, look, I’m gonna go to bed, enjoy the film.” Aaron makes a gentle, protesting noise when Robert moves to press a tentative kiss to his hairline but allows Robert’s hand to slip through his own.
The bedside clock flashes 00:12 when Aaron slips into bed behind him. Robert forces himself to even his breathing out and feign sleep, even though he knows it's pointless. They have a sixth sense when it comes to each other, especially when they’re concerned. It’s a blessing and a curse, really.
“Robert.” Aaron’s breathy whisper tickles the back of his neck before an arm snakes around his waist. “I know something's wrong, and I wanna know what. Let me help.”
“Said it's nothing, just go to sleep. We can talk in the morning.”
“We won’t though, will we?” Aaron sighs. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t do this anymore.”
Something drops in his stomach, at that, because they had. They’d agreed to be completely honest and open with each other from now on, learning from their mistakes of the past. It’s good, in theory, and they have been more open but this, this feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down and noticing a ledge. It’s a risk, and he could land safely, but if he found himself free-falling, would it be the end again? Robert knows he can’t go through any more arguments, not now, not when his grip on this relationship still feels tentative and threadbare.
The ghosts of their past mistakes are haunting his every thought, and he isn’t sure how to make them stop.
“I just keep overthinking, that's all,” Robert settles with, in the end. It isn't a lie, not really. “I suppose I just still can't believe this is real.”
“You start goin' all soft on me now ‘n I’m off.”
It's a joke, he knows it is, it’s the kind of threat laced with amusement and affection that were so intrinsic to them as a couple – but he can't stop the shot of panic at the thought of fucking it up again with his runaway mouth. So, with a laugh, he shuffles back into Aaron's embrace. A leg soon slips between his own, leg hair bristling against his own, a comfort that once had him running for the hills but now has him sinking into it. As Aaron's breathing levels out behind him, Robert forces his eyes closed.
It’ll pass. A mantra coursing through his mind, a prayer on his lips. It'll pass. We'll be normal again.
It will pass.
We're a joke. Everyone saw this coming. Even I saw this- Robert startles awake at the sound of shattering glass in his mind. He's still on his side, curled up and facing the window, but the sunlight behind the curtains and trying to break through barely registers for a moment as he focuses on steadying the frantic thump of his heart. It takes a few minutes, enough time for him to drag the back of his hand along his forehead, but eventually he hauntings of his nightmare fade into a quiet murmur again. It’s only then that Robert notices something's missing – the comforting weight of Aaron’s solid chest pressed against his back. As Robert stretches, rolls onto his back and skims his hands over the bed, he frowns at the cold sheets and wonders how long he’s been alone.
There is, at least, a scrap of paper tucked underneath a cold mug of coffee on the bedside table that settles his immediate fears.
You were kicking last night. On a deal this morn, but if you wanna talk just call. x
Aaron must be worried if he’s leaving kisses on his notes.
Casting a glance at the bedside clock, Robert groans but can’t bring himself to care as he watches the red digits flash 10:12 at him. He’ll text Nicola, take the day and turn off his phone to avoid the inevitable barrage of abuse. Tugging on his jeans from yesterday and shrugging on the first shirt that he plucks from the wardrobe, Robert trudges down the staircase (cursing Aaron when he almost trips over a stray boot) and sets about reheating his coffee. The remnants of Liv’s breakfast are spread across the table; milk left beside the cereal box and bowl holding a few soggy cornflakes. Aaron’s mug sits at the other side, next to a plate of crumbs and a jar of jam.
Neither of them were this messy at the pub, Robert muses, as he leaves his mug turning in the microwave and clears the table.
He can pretend everything’s still how it was before, when he’s alone.
At 10:35, Robert is sloping up Main Street with his eyes on the café. The pub had been his first thought, figuring the ways he could convince Victoria to fix him a late breakfast, but it didn’t take long for him to dismiss the idea. She and Aaron tend to tag-team him, especially if they’re trying to get something out of him. Robert wouldn’t put it past Aaron to have a word with Victoria before he left this morning.
“Morning, Bob.” Robert greets as he spots him stepping through the door with a cloth, wiping down the tables outside. Glancing up, Bob smiles and raises his hand to block out the morning sun.
“Morning. I had Nicola in earlier, think she wants your guts for garters.”
“Mm, I’ve decided to skive off, don’t think she’s too happy about it.” At that, Bob laughs and nods sympathetically, as if he understands the wrath of Nicola all too well. Robert wonders how many times Nicola has threatened to skin a villager alive just because they dared to take a day off.
“Best hide in there, then. I’ll be with you in a sec, usual?”
“Yeah, please.”
As Bob turns back to his tables, Robert makes for the door. He has the handle in his grip as it swings open, drags him along and causes him to stumble slightly into the person exiting. There’s an apology on his lips that dies as he sees Victoria staring back at him. Maybe the pub would’ve been the better option.
“Oh! Hiya, Rob.” She greets, cheery tone already setting him on edge. He hurries out a hello of his own and tries to shuffle around her, but she stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. “Aaron reckons something’s wrong. Asked me if I knew what.”
Of course he did. Robert knows he shouldn’t be bitter, or frustrated, because if the situations were reversed, he’d be turning the entire village upside down just to find out what’s really going on, but he can’t help it. It only stirs the bubbling panic in the pit of his stomach. Luckily, it’s at that moment that a woman appears behind Vic, causes her to step aside, and Robert uses the distraction to step through the entrance and around his little sister. Gives him at least a little distance.
“And I’ve already told him it’s nothing, Vic,” Robert says as he makes his way to the empty sofa tucked away at the back of the café. He can hear her hurried footsteps behind him and knows she’s too stubborn to leave him alone even after he tosses a gentle “don’t worry,” over his shoulder.
“He said you’ve been off lately. He’s worried.”
“Yeah, well...” easing himself down onto the sofa, Robert shrugs, “he doesn’t need to be.”
“He said you’re hiding something.”
“I’ve not done anything wrong!” He doesn’t mean to snap, but he can’t help it when that familiar feeling of panic flashes through him. This is how it started last time, isn’t it? Vic’s frown deepens, eyes softening in her own shade of concern as she sits down next to him, leg tucked underneath herself so she can face him head-on. Her expression is resolute, but with a softness to her eyes, and in that moment, she looks every bit like their mother. Something in him crumbles a little.
Then, at the counter, he spots Chas, catches her eye as she stares at him, an assessment of her own. Has Aaron spoken to her too? Inhaling through his nose and closing his eyes, Robert shakes his head. He needs to get it off his chest, get some kind of assurance that it isn’t anything for him to worry about, but his relationship with Chas is just as fragile, if not more, lately. The thought of her overhearing him, misunderstanding the thoughts that he barely understands himself, and then twisting them... the fear is almost paralysing.
Robert isn’t sure how long he spends lost in his thoughts, doesn’t see Bob approach the sofa and is startled out of his thoughts as he places the mug on the table.
“Here we are,” Bob smiles, either unaware or deliberately ignoring Robert’s distance. “one Americano.”
“Cheers. How much do I—”
“Oh no, it’s all been paid for.”
Robert frowns, only gets as far as asking “who—”, when he catches Chas’ eye again as she turns to leave the café, her own coffee in-hand. He prepares for a snarl, a frown or something – but instead, she smiles at him. The kind of soft, mothering smile he’d assumed was resigned to the history books. It makes Robert smile, makes Vic smile too. A chain reaction.
He almost lost all of this, came so close to not only losing the love of his life but the family he’d built for himself. All because he and Aaron couldn’t communicate properly, because they opted to bottle everything up instead of just laying it out on the table.
Glancing over at Vic again, he’s unsurprised to see her patiently waiting for him to respond, seemingly noticing his inner dialogue and leaving him to it. It’s inevitable that Vic will spill everything to Aaron as soon as she can, but if it saves him from having to tackle that conversation then maybe it'll be for the best.
Taking a deep breath, Robert finally admits, “I can’t even figure it out in my own head, so I don’t know how to explain it. That why I’ve been... hiding it, I guess, from Aaron.”
“Well, if just tell me what you’ve done.”
“Nothing!”
“I was just saying, cos usually—”
“Yeah, and that’s the problem isn’t it!” Vic startles a little as he snaps, lets her placating hands drop back into her lap, but Robert doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. If he does, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to start again. “I always fuck it up somehow, and I’m- God Vic I’m so scared of it happening again I just can’t- I don’t know how to—” He closes his eyes, shuts away the growing concern on his sister’s face and focuses on his words. Breathes in, breathes out. “I can’t settle. I’m so scared of doing something wrong, saying something wrong, that I can’t relax.”
“You’ve never relaxed in your life.”
“No, I mean... when Aaron agreed, to give us another go, I told him he could take the lead, that we’d go at Aaron’s pace while he still works through his counselling. It’s worked, we’re good, but...” Chancing a glance, Robert is surprised to find Vic smiling gently at him, nodding along as if —
“But now you’re not sure where the boundaries are.”
— as if she actually, genuinely, get it. Robert can only nod for a moment, a little dumbfounded and taken aback, before he finds his voice again. “Yeah. I just don’t want to do something to mess it all up; everything still seems so fresh.”
“So, why not just ask?”
“Yeah, cos that wouldn’t sound pathetic.”
“Robert,” Vic sounds exasperated now, a little bit like Robert feels. “It wouldn’t sound pathetic at all. You set some boundaries at the start, and now you want to know whether they’ve changed. How did you sort last year, when you first got together officially? You said you were letting him take the lead then.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“Because I didn’t know what it was like, Vic. To have him or to lose him. Now... now I do. I know what both feels like, and I keep having nightmares about losing him again. I’m overthinking everything I say because I’m so scared of getting it wrong and starting an argument. I know I’m driving myself mad, but I don’t know how to stop it.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just shuffles across the black leather till her knee is pressed against his thigh and she’s close enough to begin rubbing circles against his back the same way his mum used to do. Usually, he’d shove her away. Not one for being so weak in front of anyone other than Aaron, but he can feel his heart race slowly settle again. His problem finally shared.
For once, he finds himself praying she decides to tell Aaron herself, just to finally get it out there.
If it won’t pass on its own, someone’s going to have to push it.
It’s ten minutes after Vic leaves him to finish off his coffee, that his phone vibrates, the notification popping up on the screen as the device rattles loudly against the table.
From: Aaron (11:13)
Got finished early. You about?
To: Aaron (11:13)
Yeah, in the caf. Skived off.
From: Aaron (11:14)
Can you come home? Need to talk.
He’d be a liar if he said his heart didn’t skid and almost stumble to a halt at the sight of those ominous three words. Perhaps it’s his lack of response, or maybe Aaron re-read the message and immediately knew Robert’s mind would begin catastrophizing, but his phone soon buzzes again.
From: Aaron (11:15)
Nothing bad I promise. X
To: Aaron (11:16)
Be back in 5.
The Mill is uncharacteristically silent as Robert opens the door. Usually, he can at least her Aaron clattering around somewhere, cursing in gravely undertones, but the lack of anything makes him frown as he flicks on the light. Aaron must still be on his way, waylaid by a wandering Dingle. Or Vic. He doesn’t pay much attention as he shrugs off his jacket and hangs it up beside Aaron’s, doesn’t lift his head until he’s walking into the kitchen and notices a pair of black boots in his periphery.
Aaron’s boots.
When he lifts his head, he finds Aaron’s standing in the kitchen, next to the dining table, with a small smile on his face.
“Popped into the scrapyard when I got back,” Aaron starts, in lieu of an actual greeting. “Nicola was out for your head. Told me to make the most of your assets while you still have them.”
Better stop wasting time and get over here then, he wants to say. It’s instinctive, to flirt, but it’s there again, that seed of doubt in the back of his mind. It sounds like it could be a lead into it, the verbal foreplay they’re so acquainted with, but, he daren’t push it.
“That’s why I’ve been hiding in the caf all morning.” He says instead. Aaron frowns, and Robert immediately realises he’s picked the wrong option.
“Rob... you know we’re good, right?”
“Yeah, of course I do.”
Aaron hums, eyes slightly assessing before he shrugs and tilts his head. “Get over here, yeah? I’ve got something for you.”
It’s only then, that Robert notices the edge of wrapping paper on the surface behind Aaron’s body, streaks of silver catching the light as he crosses the room. Okay, they have a lot of anniversaries, more than most couples do, but after running through the dates in his mind, Robert knows he hasn’t forgotten any of the anniversaries they celebrate.
“What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.” Aaron smiles as he steps to the side. It’s large, rectangular in shape, and when Robert’s fingers graze the paper the solid feel of the object catches him off-guard. He must stare a little long at the wrapping in front of him, as Aaron huffs out a laugh and drags his finger down the edge of the paper, silver giving way to gold. When he pauses, Aaron takes Robert’s hand and places it beside the tear. “I didn’t spend twenty minutes fighting with wrapping paper and Sellotape just to open it myself.”
“Sorry.”
Aaron elbows him gently in the ribs. “I don’t want you to apologise, Robert. I want you to open it.”
So, he does. It reveals itself slowly, the golden surface stretching across the entire width, smooth and cool under his fingertips. As he steers the tear upwards, he realises it’s a frame. A large, golden frame.
A large, golden frame encasing their wedding photo.
The same wedding photo Aaron smashed to pieces months ago.
“Aaron-” Robert breathes, all other words dying on his tongue. He can feel Aaron’s eyes on him, watching his reaction as his fingertips ghost across the glass until they meet Robert’s still resting over their smiling faces. He pushes past the growing lump in his throat and tries to blink away the tears gathering in his eyes as he turns to Aaron. “What’s this for?”
“Vic called me,” Aaron says quietly as he moves his hand over Robert’s to tangle their fingers together. “She told me what you said, what you’ve been frettin’ over. So, this is us. We're good, we’re married. Yeah, we're a little different now, not the same as before, but we're even better.” A shy smile creeps across Aaron's face. “Bit like the frame.”
In an hour or so they’ll finally laugh. Aaron, tucked under Robert’s arm and moulding his body into every available crevice, will smile as he reveals the madness within the shop as he was buying the frame. Robert, with his fingers ghosting patterns across the skin of his husband’s exposed bicep and dropping kisses into his hair, will grin and question when Aaron became so metaphorical.
But for now, staring down at the frame, the photo he's seen Aaron smash on a loop in his head for weeks, Robert finally allows himself to break, knowing with a confidence that’s been missing for months that his husband will gladly put him back together piece by piece.