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“So what are you getting Robert for Christmas?” Donna asks. She sips her hot chocolate and licks away a squirty cream moustache, eyes on Aaron.
Robert flicks his own eyes back down to the book in his hands.
“My undying love,” Aaron tells her, and Robert doesn't need to be looking to know what his face looks like.
“Sounds shit,” Donna tells him. Robert watches her hand take the last vanilla slice off the plate in the middle of the table.
“Oh? And what are you getting your non-existent boyfriend this year?”
Robert doesn't sigh audibly, but it's a near thing. He has no idea why Donna and Aaron can't just get along. Robert puts up with plenty of people for Aaron's sake.
He elbows Aaron in the ribs without looking up and Aaron oofs, but doesn't apologise.
Robert turns a page, holds out his hand until Aaron puts his coffee in it. He suffers through another fifteen minutes of the pair of them sniping at each other while he pretends to read, before Aaron rises to his feet.
“I'd better get back to work,” he says, cupping a hand around the back of Robert's head and pressing a sticky kiss to his forehead. Robert nods. He doesn't say bye, because Aaron doesn't deserve it.
He puts his book down when Aaron's gone. Donna's still eyeing the door distastefully over her raised mug.
“Don't look at me like that,” she says. “I said I'd try and I did. It's not my fault he's so bloody miserable.”
“He's not miserable,” Robert says automatically.
“Well someone should tell his face then.”
Robert watches a woman on the next table spray cake crumbs while she talks on the phone. He's getting a headache.
“He's jealous,” Robert tells her, because he thinks that's what it is.
“Of what? Me? As if I'd go anywhere near you. I know where you've been.”
Robert laughs. “Cheers for that.”
“You know what I mean. Why would he even think that? Does it seem like I fancy you?”
“Most people do.”
The face she pulls is appalled, and she throws one of her gloves at him for good measure. “Well tell him I don't.”
“I have.”
If Aaron is jealous, he'd never admit it anyway. There isn't really much Robert can do about it.
Donna sighs. “That's my dreams of cute little double dates out the window then.”
“Double dates with who?” Robert asks. It's the first he's heard of it.
She glances around like anyone in the cafe might give a shit who she's going out with. “Ross Barton asked me to go to Debbie's Christmas party with him.”
Robert, who still remembers the sound his nose made when Ross Barton broke it, lets his mouth hang open in horror.
“I know you don't like him,” she starts saying.
“I don't not like him, Donna, I hate him. He punched me in the face, he outed me.”
She has the decency to look ashamed of herself at that, which is something, but Robert knows it's a lost cause. Girls don't give a shit if blokes treat them nicely or not. Robert should know.
:::
He sulks most of the day away in his room. He's got a mountain of coursework to get done before the Christmas holidays if he wants to have any time to relax at all.
He likes his new room though. It's nice to hear Paddy clanging around downstairs instead of Andy simpering at Dad, it's nice to sit at his desk and be able to people watch out the window when he gets bored, nicer still when Paddy brings him a cup of tea up without even asking. It makes makes missing Mum a softer ache than usual.
“You've been at it all day,” Paddy says, and he sounds sort of impressed, which is also nice.
Robert shrugs, warms his hands around the mug and his nose in the steam. “Got to get it done.”
Paddy dithers for a bit, because he's Paddy, before sitting tentatively on the edge of Robert's bed, fingers twisting together. “And what is it you're studying for? What do you want to do?”
Robert's been trying not to think about that. “Just want to pass my exams.”
Paddy nods quicker than anyone Robert has ever met. “Right, yeah. Obviously, that's a good start isn't it? But after that? Uni or...”
“I wanted to go to uni,” Robert admits, and it does feel like an admission. “Get away from here, get away from...” he shrugs, tips his head.
More nodding. Paddy's hand hovers in the air, like he wants to pat Robert on the arm or something, before he takes it back. “And now?”
“I don't know. It's not like a I can afford it without Dad's help. And it's not like I can stay here forever. I need a job.” It's all he's thought about for weeks, but he hasn't got a clue how he's supposed to make enough money to get a place, and still finish school. Even if Aaron was up for it, it just feels impossible.
He doesn't realise his knee's jiggling until Paddy's hand clamps down on it, hot through Robert's jogging bottoms. “You can stay here for as long as you need,” he says. “And there's loans and things you could claim for if you do decide on uni. We can look into it.”
Robert feels hot in the face. “You reckon?”
“If you want.”
He shrugs, because he doesn't know what else to say. The truth is, he doesn't know what he wants any more.
:::
He'll never know how Aaron can spend all day outside in this weather. Which isn't to say the he doesn't appreciate the view; Aaron hanging over the open bonnet of a car, arse in the air, is a sight to behold. But it's fucking freezing, Robert's got his scarf wrapped up over his nose, chin damp with his own breath.
He's about to make his way up the path to the garage, maybe fit himself to line of Aaron's back, get some friction going against that arse, when the new lad comes out with a mug in each hand, steam billowing up in the wind. He knocks Aaron's thigh with his knee and passes him a drink when he straightens.
Robert pauses.
Ryan. That's his name. Ryan, with his smile and his shoulders, blond hair scruffed up. Robert hated him on sight and he hates him even more now, now Aaron comes home every day with another story about whatever boring thing Ryan's been banging on about.
Fucking Ryan.
He watches Aaron laugh, watches him look at the ground when Ryan elbows him, the pair of them grinning. Aaron's pink at the high ponts of his cheeks and Robert's about to do something ridiculous, like slope off home, when Aaron spots him.
The way his face brightens is gratifying, but it doesn't make Ryan fuck off. He just stands there, sipping his brew with his sleeves rolled up like he doesn't feel the cold.
“Alright,” Aaron says. He's got his hands cupped around his mug, still in his dirty blue gloves.
Robert tucks his scarf down under his chin and tries to arrange his face into something pleasant. “Hiya. Alright mate?”
Ryan smiles at him, because he's probably actually pleasant or something. What a wanker. “Can't complain. Just trying to weedle an early finish out of Aaron here.”
He knocks Aaron's thigh with his knee again. Robert's fists ball in his coat pockets, but no one can see it, so it doesn't count.
Aaron swigs his tea. “I've told you, just go. Cain's not even here.”
Ryan claps him on the shoulder and disappears into the office.
“You have a good day?” Aaron asks. He gives Robert the end of his tea to drink.
Robert shrugs. “It was alright. Donna's still planning on going out with whatshisface.”
“To Debbie's thing?” Aaron pulls a face. “I said we'd show our faces but I'm not hanging out with that pair all night.”
“Neither am I. I've told her what I think of him - about fourteen times - she wont listen.”
Aaron takes his mug back, necks the dregs before setting it aside. He folds his arms across his chest. “I don't know why you're so bothered. As long as I don't have to watch, let 'em crack on.”
“He's bad news. You do remember what he did to me.”
Aaron's mouth turns down. “You did sort of have that coming.”
That stings, even if he knows what Aaron means. “What? The bit where he outed me to everyone we know and got me kicked out of home? Thanks a lot.”
Aaron's mouth opens, but Ryan comes bustling past before he can speak, shrugging his coat on. “I'll see you in the morning, mate, yeah? See ya, Rob.”
Robert's pointedly looking away but he can see Aaron wave a hand at him.
Ryan's footsteps crunch away, and it's quiet between them, nothing but Robert's blood pumping uselessly in his ears.
“Obviously,” Aaron says slowly. “That's not what I meant.”
Robert shoves his hands back in his pockets. He's sort of numb to the cold now, like it's travelled up through him from the ground.
“Hey, come on, don't be like that,” Aaron reaches out, tugging on the front of Robert's coat.
Robert shrugs. “I'm not being like anything. So how's Ryan getting on then? You two looked pretty cosy.” What he's being is an arse but he can't seem to stop it, can't seem to soften the clench of his jaw. It's like being outside of his own body, watching himself fuck things up.
It works as designed too; Aaron stiffens up, hand drawing back. “Don't be a twat, Robert.”
“What? I'm just asking.”
Aaron shakes his head in disgust. “He's fine, we get on. He's straight,” he adds, pointedly.
Inwardly, Robert cheers. Outwardly, he keeps his mouth shut and his eyes on the bulb flickering over Aaron's left shoulder.
The silence is deafening.
Aaron cracks first, which never happens. “You're not actually jealous, are you?” he says, like it's the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. “There's nothing going on.”
“Oh like you're not jealous of Donna,” Robert huffs.
“I”m not jealous of Donna, Robert. I'm realistic about how long it normally takes you to get in a girl's knickers.”
There's no crack this time, no sickening crunch, but it feels just like Ross Barton's fist to his face did. Like his breath's been stolen and the sky is swimming. He waits a second, to see if Aaron will take it back, but his arms are folded again, unrepentant.
Aaron does shout after him when Robert turns to leave, but he keeps walking.
:::
It's not actually particularly easy to avoid Aaron, but Robert manages a full day holed up in his room. He watches a documentary about shellshock, finishes the essay he's been working on all week, and eats enough salt and vinegar crisps to strip a layer of skin off the roof of his mouth.
He doesn't cry into his pillow about the fact that Aaron will never trust him. There's no point.
It hurt because it was true, he just hasn't got any idea how he's supposed to change Aaron's mind.
:::
He makes it to a second Aaronless day by ducking out early, before Paddy can wake up and mither him about the look on his face.
He's huddled up in the cricket pavillion when he hears feet on the steps, he braces himself for another round of who's the worst boyfriend ever.
Luckily, it's just Donna. She pokes her head round the door, the bright red bobble on her hat bobbing. “There you are! I've been all over the shop looking for you.”
“Well you found me.” There's nothing to be gained from being a dickhead to Donna, but that's never stopped him.
She comes in, shoving in next to him on the floor. Her mittens and scarf match her hat. “Aaron said you'd either be here or up in some barn.”
Robert's stomach lurches. “You've spoken to Aaron?”
“Yeah. He was thrilled about it, as you can imagine. He looked sad. Sadder than usual.”
“We had a fight.”
They didn't really. Robert isn't sure you could call it a fight.
“Yeah, he said.”
Robert wants to ask what else Aaron said, but he doesn't.
Donna sighs. “I told him I don't fancy you,” she says.
Robert puts a hand over his eyes and groans loudly.
“Well you said he was worried about it! How was I supposed to know he'd go off on one? Anyway, I was very clear that I'd rather make passionate love to a lamppost than go anywhere near you-”
“Lovely,” Robert interjects.
“And I told him the feeling was mutual-”
“It is.”
Donna ignores him. “And then he looked a little bit like he might cry. So, you're welcome, but also, sorry about that.”
“For fuck's sake,” Robert says.
“Is that what you fought about?”
“I don't really want to talk about it.”
That would have worked on her a few weeks ago but she's immune to him now, just levels him with a look. “Yes you do.”
And it's the way she says it, more than anything, all gentle, that makes him spill. “He basically said he thinks it's just a matter of time until I cheat on him.”
She nods. “Is it?”
“No! Fuck off!”
“Well you can't blame him for worrying.”
Robert sighs, looks down at the nobbles of his knees in his jeans. “I know.”
“You are a bit of a tart.”
“Yes, thank you, we all get it,” he takes a second. “But that was before.”
“Before Aaron?”
“Yeah.”
She knocks her shoulder into his, reaches over to pick up his hand and hold it in her lap between her stupid red mittens. “Have you told him that?”
“He doesn't believe me.” And that's the killer isn't it? He can tell Aaron he's it until he's blue in the face, but what's the point?
“Show him then,” Donna says. “Who cares what he thinks, he's a miserable git. But in fifty years time when you're still following him round like a sad little puppy, he'll get the message.”
“Maybe,” Robert says. In reality he doesn't see how they could last that long if Aaron doesn't trust him. “Cheers,” he says anyway, because she's trying and she doesn't have to.
She shrugs. “It must be scary for him. He's like, your exception or whatever, but if he doesn't think he's anything special, it must be hard to believe.”
Robert hmms. Everyone's someone's exception though aren't they? Isn't that what love is?
:::
Chas eyes him when she answers the door, but she holds it open for him anyway.
Aaron's sprawled on his bed, face lit white by the light from his phone. He taps the button on the side when he spots Robert, turns himself black and yellow in the lamp light.
It obviously takes Robert too long to decide on his opening line, even though he'd been practicing all the way over here, because Aaron huffs, eyes rolling, and holds out his arm.
Oh thank god.
Robert kicks his trainers off and lets his coat drop, goes to fit himself against Aaron's side. He rolls into him, face buried in Aaron's neck, arm across his chest; cuddles in.
“I'm sorry,” Robert says. Even though he's not, and that isn't what he came here to say.
“You're such a dickhead,” Aaron says, but it's fond. He sounds as relieved as Robert feels.
“So are you,” Robert points out, which is still not what he came here for, but closer to the truth.
Aaron rolls Robert over, on to his back, hovers over him on an elbow. “I shouldn't have said all that about Donna.”
Robert nods, can't seem to stop his hand smoothing up Aaron's arm, curling around the ball of his shoulder. “You shouldn't,” he agrees. “But I get it. I'm not exactly the most trustworthy bloke you could have picked.”
“I do trust you,” Aaron says. “I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't, would I? It's just...”
“Scary.”
Aaron nods, fingers twisting in the hem of Robert's jumper. “Yeah.”
“I promise you,” Robert says. “I'm not going to let you down. I've told you you're all I want and I mean it, okay? It's scary for me too, you know.”
Aaron's eyes are glassy, and he looks away for a second to blink them dry again.
Robert fits his hand to the sharp line of Aaron's jaw, thumb on his chin to tilt his face back down. “Hey. I love you. No one else.”
He can feel it humming between them, whatever it is that makes his heart race and his ribs ache, whatever it is that ruined him for anyone else without him even noticing.
“I love you too,” Aaron says. He's never said it before and his eyes are flickering back and forth across Robert's face like he's worried it came out wrong or something.
Robert couldn't bite back the smile that creeps across his face if he tried. “Yeah?”
A nod, Aaron's kuckles digging in to his belly when his fist curls. “Yeah. You're all I want too. You always have been”
“Not Ryan?” Robert asks, just to be an arse.
He catches Aaron's fingers before he gets pinched and pulls him down for a kiss instead, fingers scrubbing up the velvety back of Aaron's head to hold him still.
They kiss like that until Aaron's arm gives out and he drags Robert over him, thighs spreading around Robert's hitching hips, tongue pushing into Robert's mouth, and again, and again, while the world expands and contracts around them.
:::
They're snogging up against the sink the next morning, breakfast forgotten by the hand Robert's using to brace himself.
“Alright, break it up,” Chas says, coming in. When Robert looks over Aaron's shoulder she's got a hand over her eyes, mouth screwed up.
“We're making up,” Robert corrects her, rubs his hands up and down Aaron's back one last time before he lets him pull away.
Aaron elbows him in the ribs for it, but it's a small price to pay.
“Yes,” Chas says, hip checking Aaron out of her way to get to the kettle. “We all heard you.”
Robert pulls a face. Grim.
Aaron, who has turned a shade of red Robert didn't even know existed, has got a hand over his eyes now. “Please stop talking,” he says.
Robert finishes pouring milk into their ceral bowls and goes to sit at the table. “How are things with you and the fit policeman,” Robert asks, hoping to change the subject.
Aaron still looks appalled but he does crack half a smile when it's Chas' turn to look embarrased, so Robert will call it a win.
“What have I told you about calling him that?” she asks.
Robert shrugs.
“What she means is,” Aaron says, elbows on the table, milk on his chin, finally joining in. “That he still hasn't called her back.”
“Er, excuse me,” Chas says. “What would you know about it?”
Robert hunches over his bowl, lets the sound of them bickering wash over him. That's more like it.
:::
“We are alright though?” Robert asks. It's two blowjobs later and he's finally dragging his jeans back on, trying to remember which corner of Aaron's room his shoes got kicked to last night.
Aaron pushes up to sit against the pillows. He's gloriously naked and Robert wishes, not for the first time, that he hadn't promised Paddy he'd be home for lunch.
“We're alright,” Aaron says. “Do you reckon you could manage to be a bit less of a twat to Ryan now though? He thinks you hate him or something, it's annoying.”
Robert rolls his eyes. Figures he'd be the whiny sort. “I could try, that's my best offer.”
“Suppose that's the best I can hope for, coming from you,” Aaron allows. “And I'll make an effort with Donna, if it means that much to you.”
“Thank you,” Robert puts a knee on the bed, leans over for a kiss. “See you tonight?”
He walks home on air, high on Aaron, I love you too playing on a loop in his head. He can't remember the last time he felt this light.
So obviously Dad's sat at Paddy's kitchen table.