Work Text:
In his dreams, Robbie is young again. His waist is trim, his hair dark, and he's fitter than he was at 30. He plays squash without puffing, and climbs endless stairs without a twinge in his back. He keeps up with James as they run across an endless meadow for the sheer joy of it.
Then he wakes to reality: stiff and creaky, all too aware of the wrinkles and grey hairs he'll see in the mirror when he shuffles into the loo.
"Don't get up yet." James mumbles as he snuggles closer.
Dreams are good... but waking is better.