Work Text:
2015
They’re trying the hotel thing again. Robert had picked Aaron up in Hotten and driven them to a nice place in Leeds – classy but not so grand that it sets Aaron’s teeth on edge. They’ve got an impressive king-sized bed, a minibar full of beer, the “do not disturb” sign on the door and a whole night of uninterrupted time to themselves.
And Aaron feels like absolute death.
His insides have been off since before he’d even he set off from the Woolpack, stomach churning unpleasantly all afternoon. Had it been a few months earlier, he’d have put it down to the strange mix of nerves and excitement over what he was about to do with Robert, but he’s been sneaking around and lying for too long now. Any initial anxiety he’d had over going after an engaged-and-then-married man had faded ages ago, he was in too deep to care about getting caught.
Jaw clenched so hard it hurt, he’d nipped into Boots on his way to meet Robert, purchasing some Gaviscon and chugging it back like a shot. And at first, it had helped settle the nausea. A bit. But whatever effects it had had worn off by the time they’d pulled up outside the hotel and now, as he lies under Robert on the bed, he’s wishing he’d cancelled. Or at least that he hadn’t eaten anything today.
“Mm, missed this,” Robert sighs into his mouth, one hand coming up to stroke Aaron’s jaw. “Been thinking about you all day.”
Aaron doesn’t trust himself to talk, so he just hums back.
“Want you inside me… ” Robert murmurs, lips moving down across Aaron’s jaw now.
Oh god. Aaron’s never felt less like having sex in his life. Maybe he can convince Robert to go for something slightly more easy-going, at least until whatever this is has died down and then –
“Hey.”
Aaron blinks up at Robert, who’s stopped trailing kiss down his neck to frown at him.
“What?”
“You good?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
Robert shrugs as best he can from his position hovering over Aaron.
“S’just that you’re kind of hot.”
As gross as he feels, Aaron manages to waggle his eyebrows, causing Robert to snort.
“Not like that. I mean, yeah like that, but I meant in the sense that you’re sweating a bit. And I know I’m good, but we’ve not really done anything yet so… you okay?”
You don’t know when you’ll get this much time with him again, and what, you’re gonna fuck it up ’cause you feel a bit under the weather? Grow the hell up, Livesy, you’re fine.
Aaron slaps him on the arm. “I’m fine, it’s just warm in here. Get on with it, would you?”
Robert raises an eyebrow, but leans back down to kiss him again. Aaron lets his eyes fall shut and tries desperately to focus the sensation of Robert’s mouth against his skin, rather than the way that every rock of their hips makes his stomach roll.
A few minutes later, Robert’s hands start wandering, and his right one comes to stroke over Aaron’s tense abdomen. It lingers there for a moment, and then his thumb presses down on it slightly and yeah, nope.
“Move. Move!” Aaron frantically shoves Robert away from him, and he backs off instantly, surprised.
“Aaron, what’s – ”
Fuckfuckfuck –
Aaron practically vaults off the bed and dashes to the bathroom, barely having time to slam the door shut and stagger to the toilet before he’s lurching to the floor and emptying the contents of his stomach. Part of him wants to try and be quiet, very aware that Robert is just outside, but he’s beyond that now, heaving so hard he practically buries his head in the bowl.
“Oh, fuck.” He gasps for air when he gets a brief moment of respite, resting his forehead on the back of his shaking hand.
A small knock on the door makes him jump slightly, but he doesn’t reply.
“Aaron?” Robert’s voice is muffled through the wood. “Are you okay?”
Obviously not, you idiot.
“F-fine,” he manages to choke out before retching again, the sound of his own groans echoing loudly in the bathroom.
When that round subsides and he gets another brief break, Robert’s voice pipes up again.
“Can I come in?”
Absolutely not.
“No! No, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?” He sounds uncertain.
“Jus’ give me a few minutes.”
A few minutes, and then what? You’ll come out and you can get on with your pre-scheduled shag?
A hot spike of embarrassment surges through Aaron so sharply it makes him curl in on himself. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking useless. Who ruins a dirty night away with a bloody stomach bug?
“Okay… ” Robert’s voice is fainter, as though he’s backed away from the door. Aaron thinks he says something else, but he can’t make it out over the sound of his own gagging and the blood rushing in his ears.
*
After an indiscernible amount of time spent slumped on the cold tiled floor, Aaron eventually pulls himself up to lean over the sink. Grimacing at the taste in his mouth, he washes it out with tapwater before splashing some more on his sticky face.
Ugh, I need a toothbrush.
His washbag is out in the bedroom, and although he’s pretty sure he’s done throwing up, he feels so weak and jelly-legged that the thought of walking out to find it feels like too much effort.
“Robert?” He calls, voice hoarse. “Can you chuck me my bag, please?”
No answer.
“Robert?”
Still nothing. Maybe he fell asleep.
Sighing, Aaron opens the door and slowly ventures out of the bathroom into the… totally empty bedroom. Robert’s gone.
Well, shit.
Aaron will later blame the fact that he’s feeling so bloody awful, but hurt tears spring to his eyes before they can stop them. He should’ve expected it, he supposes, there was no point in Robert hanging around, not when he could be back at Home Farm with his beautiful wife. But for god’s sake, he could’ve at least told Aaron he was leaving.
Just as he’s contemplating reentering the bathroom so he can take a shower (and maybe have a bit of a cry while he’s in there), there’s a clicking sound at the door and it swings open. Robert saunters into the room, keycard in one hand and a carrier bag in the other.
“Oh, hiya. You made it out of the bathroom, then?”
Aaron just stares, before quickly scrubbing at his eyes.
“How’re you feeling?”
“Um. Not so sick anymore. Think it’s just a bit of a bug or something.”
“Well, that’s good. Hopefully past the worst of it, then.” Robert drops the carrier bag on the table by the window.
“Thought you’d be long gone by now,” Aaron blurts out.
“Hm?”
“I came out and you weren’t here… thought you’d have headed home.”
Robert blinks at him. “No, I just – I just nipped out to get some stuff. I told you I wouldn’t be long.”
Oh. That must’ve been what Aaron couldn’t hear him saying before.
“What, you thought I’d just ditch you while you’re sick in a hotel room?” Robert looks like he can’t decide whether to be amused or insulted.
“Sorry.”
“No, my fault, I should’ve left a note or something,” Robert waves his apology away easily. “Unless… you want me to go? I get it if you’d rather I left you to it?”
Were it anyone else – literally anyone else – Aaron would say yes, please just bugger off. Whenever there’s something wrong with him – be it physical or mental – he hates being fussed over and checked on, would much rather just hide away to lick his wounds alone until he’s recovered. His mum just flits and fritters around him uselessly and gets on his nerves, and even Ed used to irritate him by relentlessly trying to find ways to fix whatever the problem was, whether Aaron asked him to or not. Which pretty much summed up why their relationship was doomed to fail, really.
But now…
“No, you can stay. If you want.”
Robert shoots him a half-smile and nods. “Guess I’m staying, then.”
“So… what’s in the bag?”
“Oh, right.” Robert sits down and starts pulling out various items. “I went to Boots, got some Pepto Bismol for your stomach. And, er, I nipped into Tesco Express just incase you wanted some plain food later, bought some crackers and bread, that kind of stuff. Then I remembered we passed a Holland and Barrett on the way here, so I nipped in there to see if they had anything. The lady I spoke to said the best tea for nausea is ginger, peppermint or chamomile. Uh… I didn’t know which you’d like so I just got all three.”
He holds up the three boxes of teabags a little awkwardly, like he’s just realised that was a slightly over-the-top thing to do.
“Um,” Aaron says intelligently. “Cheers? I – you didn’t have to.”
“S’no bother.”
Aaron stares at Robert, then at all the stuff on the table, strangely touched. He doesn’t know what to do with that.
“I’m… gonna take a quick shower.” He picks up his washbag, thumb playing with the zip. “And then, peppermint would be… nice?”
“Peppermint it is.” Robert’s already busying himself with the room's little kettle as Aaron slides into the bathroom.
When he emerges ten minutes later, still feeling thoroughly shitty but altogether a lot more human, Robert’s stretched out on his side of the bed watching the telly with the volume low. He’s lying on top of the covers in just his boxers and a white t-shirt, and despite his weakened state, Aaron still feels a tug of arousal at the sight.
“Better?” Robert asks.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Aaron pads over to the bed and slides gingerly under the covers. The pillows feel like heaven beneath his sore head, and he slumps down into them before reaching for the steaming mug that Robert left on his bedside table (the packets of condoms and lube he'd chucked on there when they first arrived have vanished).
“What’re you watching?”
“Attenborough. Not gonna puke on me, are you?”
“Uh, doubt it. Don’t think there’s anythin’ left.”
“Nice.” Robert’s nose crinkles in displeasure. “I stuck the bin just under your side of the bed, though. Just incase you need it in the night.”
Aaron’s struck by that feeling again, the one he doesn’t know what to do with, so he takes a tentative sip of his peppermint tea instead, grimacing as he swallows.
Robert’s mouth twitches. “Tasty?”
“Ugh.”
He keeps sipping it though, enjoying the warmth that seeps through him and the way it calms his still-raw insides.
They lie in silence for a few minutes, half-watching a lion chase a pack of zebras, when Robert speaks quietly, fiddling with the remote in his hand.
“You could’ve just told me you weren’t feeling well, y’know.” His eyes don’t leave the screen. “It’s not like I would’ve been cross or anything.”
But then I wouldn’t have gotten to spend time with you, Aaron thinks immediately.
“Was just hoping it’d go away by the time we got here, I guess,” is what he says instead. “Sorry I spoiled the night.”
Robert does turn to look at him then, shaking his head slightly. Aaron searches for signs of annoyance, but he can't find any.
“Don’t be daft. You can't help being poorly.”
They continue to watch the nature documentary in silence, until Aaron eventually finishes his tea and puts the mug back on the table. He can feel himself drifting within minutes, eyes falling closed as he lets the warmth of Robert’s body beside him and the soothing tones of David Attenborough lull him to sleep.
Just before he slips into unconsciousness, he thinks he feels fingers trailing lightly through his shower-damp hair. Probably just imagining things.
****
2019
It’s barely dark outside, but Aaron’s exhausted. He’s over the worst of this bastard stomach bug now, but his body is still very much in recovery-mode. He’s been in snuggled up in bed all afternoon, Robert popping in at half-hour intervals, and he intends to stay there until at least the next morning.
Speak of the devil.
Robert carefully nudges his way through the door to their bedroom, a mug in each hand and Seb’s stuffed elephant tucked under his arm.
“How’s the patient?” He puts the World’s Best Husband mug on Aaron’s table – a strong smell of peppermint wafting from it – before rounding the bed to settle down on his own side.
“Surviving.”
“Good, I’d hate to be a widower at such a young age,” Robert says mildly, setting his own regular brew down. “Seb’s down for the count, but he insisted I give you Mr Elephant to help you feel better.”
Aaron grins fondly and accepts the stuffed toy, wishing he could go to his son’s room and give a thank you cuddle without risking infecting him with germs.
Robert rolls onto his side, propping his head on his right hand while reaching out to stroke Aaron’s hair with his left.
“Mmm, s’nice.” Aaron’s eyes flutter at the feeling.
They lie in silence for a few minutes, until Robert asks, “What’s the smile for?”
“Was just thinking.”
“Dangerous. About what?”
“That hotel we stayed in… ”
Robert stares at him. “Yeah, I’m going to need you to narrow that down a bit.”
“The time when I was sick. Back when we were just... ”
“Oh, that time. God, you looked terrible that night.”
“Oi!” Aaron cries, shoving Robert’s hand away… before deciding he misses it and pulling it back to his hair again.
Robert snickers and resumes his stroking, wrapping Aaron’s curls around his long fingers. “I’ve never seen anyone make a run for the bathroom so fast in my life.”
“Would you have rather I threw up on you?”
“Uh, no. Though I have to say, it wasn’t great for my ego, having someone run away to projectile vomit the second I started feeling them up.”
“Oh, did I give you a crisis?”
“For about half a second. Then I remembered how good I am in the bed.” Robert’s smirk is as smug as ever, and if Aaron had the energy, he would roll his eyes. “Then I was mainly just concerned about you.”
Aaron hums quietly, leaning into Robert’s hand a little more.
“All I wanted to do was look after you,” Robert admits. “But you wouldn’t let me in – which is fair enough, I wouldn’t have let you in if it were me, either – and I had no clue what to do.”
“So you bought me three boxes of tea,” Aaron whispers, mouth curling up at the memory of Robert with his ridiculous amount of teabags. “For one night.”
“And you – ” Robert pokes him in the cheek. “ – decided I’d abandoned you to suffer alone. Honestly, I know I could be a bit of an arsehole back then, but what kind of heartless prick did you think I was?”
“I came out and you were gone, what was I supposed to think?”
“All my stuff was still there, you idiot!” Robert looks far too amused now. “Did you think I was so freaked out by a bit of puking that I just bolted out the door and never looked back?”
“I dunno, I was out of it! And tired and – and embarrassed and – stop laughing!”
Still chuckling, Robert shakes his head and leans down to kiss Aaron’s frown away. His hand drops from Aaron’s hair to cup his face, and Aaron can feel the warm metal of his wedding ring against his skin.
“C’mere, you big baby.” Robert snuggles further down on the pillows and pulls Aaron into his chest. “Like I could ever leave you, even back then.”
Aaron smiles into Robert’s jumper despite himself. “Already attached, were you?”
“You know I was.”
He does know. But it doesn’t hurt to hear it now and again.
“Honestly, I just felt bad for wastin’ your time.”
There’s a tut from above him. “You didn’t waste my time.”
“Not exactly what you wanted when you booked that hotel room, was it?”
“What I wanted was to spend the night with you. Which I got. Granted, I’d rather your head wasn’t in the toilet for some of it, but as long as you were there, I didn’t care what we did.”
Later, Aaron will blame what he says next on the fact that he’s overtired and still feeling a bit fragile.
“You’re lovely, you know that?”
There’s a beat, and when Robert pulls back slightly, his cheeks are pink and there’s a pleased smile on his face.
“I have my moments. Now drink your tea.”