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Four hundred and sixty six days.
Normally, he’d get exactly what he wants immediately, but sometimes it’s better to wait. Especially with the important things: a business contract, a decent house – Aaron. He’s biding his time.
It’s been four hundred and sixty six days since Aaron Dingle had swept into his life with a coffee and a listening ear. It’s been four hundred and sixty six days since Aaron Dingle had made him pick up the pieces of his life and put them back together.
He’s been biding his time.
But he’s been biding it for too long.
Because it’s been three hundred and eighty four days since Connor Jensen had swept into Aaron’s life and won him over. It’s been three hundred and eighty five days since Robert introduced them, and three hundred and eighty days since they’d gone on their first date.
And Robert still feels sick thinking about it. He’d promised himself from the moment he’d heard about it, from the moment Connor had come home with a dazed grin and smelling of beer, that he wouldn’t be the person to ruin it. Connor could do that all by himself. It’s exactly why they’d become best friends, after all. They had something in common.
So he bides his time again.
But the thing is that Aaron is around all the time. That’s fine, it really is – there’s no complaints from Robert – but Connor likes to get a little touchy feely, and it makes Robert ill. He hates it, seeing Connor touching Aaron like that, but what can he say?
He’s got no right, considering they’ve been in a relationship for a year, that they’re strong and happy, that they’re perfect for each other. So he breathes through the nausea and forces a smile onto his face, and tries not to snap when Aaron’s hand finds its way onto his arm.
The important things are worth waiting for.
He finds out about the stars by accident: he’s scrolling through his Facebook, and some girl he went school with had shared it. An arty picture of a jar full of little paper stars, origami folds on all edges, with a caption telling him that a hundred stars make one wish come true. It’s stupid, all things considered – a fairytale – but it was nice. It made him think of his mum.
So that’s why he does it – that and to take his mind off of, well, Aaron – and that’s why he finds himself on Amazon at 2am buying different coloured craft paper and bookmarking the instructions on his phone.
.
It starts off innocent enough: he cuts the papers into centimetre-wide strips and folds. The first star looks more like a circle, and the second looks like a triangle, but the third one somewhat resembles the picture – five points and all, so he carries on. He pushes through burning in his eyes, through the sound of Aaron’s laughter bouncing off the walls of the apartment, through the dull ache in his chest.
When he wakes up, there are a dozen stars scattered around him, a dozen more strips of paper and a pair of scissors next to his head. The smell of fresh coffee fills the room at the same time a short rap on the door does, and he groans as he sits up.
“Morning,” Aaron smiles, nudging the door open with his hip. He’s carrying two cups of coffee, one in a mug that reads ‘best brother ever!’ (courtesy of Vic), and one with the sheet music for All You Need Is Love by The Beatles wrapped around it (that one had been a present from his mum).
It’s his favourite mug, and Aaron knows that. His heart decidedly does not skip a beat when their fingers brush, and he awkwardly sweeps away a sheet of pink paper so the younger man can sit down. “Thanks.”
“Heard you up late last night,” Aaron admits, crossing his legs underneath him. He looks- well, he looks like he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, sitting on Robert’s bed in joggers and hair flat against his forehead. Robert has to look away before he gets too used to it. “What exactly were you doing?” He looks pointedly around the room, at the rainbow of origami stars.
Robert runs a hand over the back of his neck and smiles. He thinks about it, of telling Aaron – but then The Famous Robert Sugden Abilities take over, and he schools his face into a hard smirk. “Vic’s taking Diddy Diner to Secret Garden Party this weekend,” He explains, even though the lie feels bitter on his tongue. “She wanted to fit in with the deco.”
Aaron blinks; once, twice, and he looks like he doesn’t believe it. “Oh, right,” He says. “Well, Connor’s at work – I can get out of your hair, if you like.” His eyes are wide, and if Robert didn’t know any better, he’d say hopeful.
But he does know better.
“You’re fine,” He says the words too quickly, matching the beat of his heart, but they fall out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Stay here. I could do with the company.”
“Alright,” Aaron smiles, the corners of it poking up over the rim of his mug. “D’you want a hand with these?” He gestures to the stars, sounding entirely innocent, but Robert knows he’s prying.
“Nah, it’s fine,” He hums, picking up all the stars. “These were just a test run, anyway. They’re shit.” And then he dumps them into his bin, feels something like relief flood through his veins.
Aaron watches him with careful eyes, but settles back against the headboard anyway. “Do you wanna watch a film?” Robert’s grateful for the distraction.
Important things like this take time. He just has to remind himself of that.
.
It doesn’t say on the instructions that he needs to write on the strips of paper, but it doesn’t not say it either. So he does, treats it like a diary that he doesn’t have to read back because the pen marks are folded on the inside. It feels a lot like throwing away his burdens.
On the first one, he writes, I’m so fucking sorry, because he is. He’s sorry about a few things – about not getting there first, about letting Connor take him away, about feeling like this for his best friend’s boyfriend, about.
He breathes a sigh of relief when he scans the words back. It becomes easier after that.
I wish you were mine
I’ve never felt like this about anyone
I just want you to be happy
I wish you were happy with me
He folds them all into tiny stars, taking his time with the creases. They all look perfect, so he dumps them all into a jar on his desk and stares at them.
His chest feels less tight and he breathes lighter than he has for just over three hundred and seventy days.
.
Robert’s life carries on much like it has done over the past year: Aaron spends four nights a week in his flat – in Connor’s bed – and two more of those nights are spent with Aaron and Connor in the pub. He doesn’t go on dates, because he doesn’t see the point, and when he works, he sits opposite Aaron, trading smiles and cups of tea in the freezing portacabin.
Nothing changes, but it feels like everything does.
Because he feels lighter now, less like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Connor noticed and asked if he’d finally got himself a girlfriend, and he’d forced a smile and denied it. Aaron just glanced away.
The jar is getting fuller, tens of tiny stars in all different colours with his deepest secrets written on the inside. It’s just nice to be able to look at them and feel like all his problems are trapped inside that glass.
He’s taken to making them at work too, just rhythmically folding the strips and letting the tension ease out of him, all the while still keeping up the pretence of them being for Diddy Diner. Nobody believes him, but he doesn’t mind. It’s good to keep yourself busy – that’s what he tells himself, along with everyone else.
It’s a normal Tuesday morning when it happens.
He pushes the already unlocked door to the cabin open with a lightness in his movements that hasn’t been there for four hundred and ninety three days, and he even grins when he catches himself whistling.
It all stops, though – his movements pause, his heart slows, the world stops spinning. Aaron is sat at Robert’s desk, thirty tiny stars scattered around him. He’s got one in his hands – unfolded, creases bent under the force of being pressed together – and he’s frowning, eyes scanning the words written in Robert’s neat script.
His head snaps up as he senses Robert, and his face schools into a perfectly blank expression. “Rob?” He asks, lowly.
It’s enough to snap Robert out of his trance and he storms forward, ripping the strip of paper from Aaron’s grip. This close, he can see more unfolded stars around Aaron – another ten or so, all read. All of his secrets, out there in the open. Bile rises in his throat. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I, uh- they were…” Aaron stammers, cheeks glowing bright red, then he clears his throat and starts again. “I was just curious, Robert. It’s all you seem to do, fold those stars, and you always write on them… I just wanted to know.” He looks ashamed, but he’s staring at Robert intently.
The older man burns with humiliation, feeling somewhat like Aaron’s just read his diary. “They’re not for you to read,” He says, voice quiet, but he deflates and drops onto the chair opposite Aaron.
“I’m sorry,” Aaron murmurs, fingers stretching over the desk like he wants to touch. Robert shifts his fingers between his thighs to stop himself doing something stupid. “But you could’ve told me, you know?”
Robert blinks and barks out a laugh, but it’s not funny. “Tell you what, exactly? That I’m in love-“ He cuts himself off and stares out of the window, ignores Aaron’s gaze burning onto his neck.
“The person you wrote about – him – could feel the same,” The words are slow and careful, clearly expressing something, but Robert doesn’t know what. “He could’ve been waiting for you to make a move.”
“That’s a great theory. So why exactly did he go and fuck my best friend?” He hisses, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “What exactly am I supposed to do when he’s in a long-term relationship with the one person I’m closest to?”
“Maybe he got with your best friend because he didn’t think you were interested!” Aaron suddenly snaps, hot fury burning through his words. He stands, rests his hands on the edge of the desk. He leans over Robert. “Maybe he needed to do something to get over you! Maybe I just felt like I wasn’t enough for you!” His voice breaks on the last sentence, at about the same time Robert’s heart does.
The older man finally looks up, sees a hole of something filled with ache on Aaron’s face. Fuck. He understands. “I’m not trying to break you and Connor up,” He chokes out, blinking back tears.
Aaron shakes his head, slowly sits back down. “I’m not asking you to,” He whispers, and his eyes are wet and wide and so open. “I’ve never wanted that.”
“Why are you with him?” Robert asks, voice meek and quiet. He glances down, sees his hands trembling. He never thought he’d have this conversation. He always thought Aaron would be stuck in the dark.
The light of the truth is blinding now.
“Robert, I’ve always wanted you. But you just – you just didn’t seem interested and you were always bringing other people home. And I was right there in front of you, you know? But you wanted anyone but me. So when Connor asked me out, I thought, there’s my chance. My one chance to get over you.” He exhales, shoulders sagging, like he’s finally gotten the weight of it all off his chest.
Robert knows how he feels. “Did it work?”
Aaron laughs, short and deprecating. “Of course it didn’t,” He says, the corners of his mouth turned down.
“Do you love him?” Robert asks. If the answer’s yes, he doesn’t want to know – but the sick, masochistic part of him needs to know. It doesn’t stop his heart from beating ten to the dozen, though.
“I want to,” Aaron says, and Robert feels cautiously optimistic. That’s not a yes. It’s not a yes. He feels dizzy with relief. “I- I don’t know what do to now.”
Robert glances up, and fuck, he’d forgotten about that through the excitement. Aaron’s still with Connor – even if he is in love with Robert. “It’s up to you,” He says. I’ve lived with it before, is what he doesn’t say.
“I still want you,” Aaron says, quietly, coyly. He glances up from under his eyelashes, looking shy and hopeful. “I still love you.”
Robert stands, fights back the blinding grin on his face. He can feel it right down to the tips of his toes, Aaron loving him – it burns white through his veins, sparks in his lungs. “It’s up to you,” He repeats, but leans forward and presses a barely there kiss to Aaron’s lips. He feels the younger man exhale, feels him relax under his fingertips.
He feels like he’s coming home.