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“I’m gonna be late tonight,” Derek groans into the phone. Aaron is sitting at his desk nursing his third or fourth coffee of the day, he can’t remember now how many he’s finished. He just sort of heads back into the kitchen periodically to top it off. He’s in his pajamas and wrapped in a blanket, not exactly sick but not feeling well nonetheless. It’s an office day so he didn’t bother to go in – it’s just as easy to grade papers and prepare lesson plans from home. He’s got his heating pad and a little too much access to the coffee pot.
Hank is playing quietly in his favorite corner, a little piece of real estate Aaron decided would belong to the toddler so he could keep any toys he wanted within reach on days he was home. These days he likes to flip through pages of books and scribble on papers, mimicking what he sees Aaron do all day. He even has a pair of sunglasses he’s popped the lenses out of so they look just like his daddy’s and a sippy cup beside him that he refills with water each time Aaron wanders to the coffee pot.
“Why?” Aaron asks, flicking his pen over his fingers. “What happened?”
Derek groans again miserably. “Nothing. I just forgot it was a damn fire drill day and they decided to do it during last period of all times. It’s gonna be a shit show. Half the kids take forever getting out of the classroom because they grab all their shit so they don’t have to come back...the other half just disappear.”
Aaron hums and offers him sincere condolences, promising to keep dinner warm for him. It’s a short conversation, just a courtesy. Derek never leaves him hanging. There are little texts afterward, snippy comments, frustrated tirades, all of which add up to a picture in Aaron’s mind of Derek coming home and being on edge. A fight feels like it’s brewing beneath the surface and he’s wise enough to plan ahead for just such a thing. Sometimes it’s what Derek needs, sometimes he’ll bait him on purpose so he can let off that steam, and other times he’ll play the quiet game. He thinks that’s the ticket for tonight. He decides to scrap his plans for spaghetti, a carb-heavy meal Derek isn’t particularly fond of especially when he was in the midst of a sports season, in favor of a big pot of chicken soup and rolls. The kids loved the rolls, and if Derek was going to indulge himself in carbs this time of year he’s going to do it on Aaron’s home baking. There would be no complaints, and he could hold a portion for Derek sans noodles and really make him happy.
As the day wears on, he notices that Derek’s texts had gone further and further between until finally it was silence. He usually keeps the flow going all day, Aaron is used to something between each of his classes at the very least. Something lewd that would make him blush, usually, or a funny thing a student did or said. He looked forward to them and missed them when they didn’t happen. It makes him nervous. That’s always a bad sign.
By the time Derek returns home, even later than he’d anticipated, he is so far in the dumps that it’s manifesting in every move he makes. His shoulders are slumped, he doesn’t immediately lift Hank into his arms as soon as they’re empty, he looks exhausted and more than that, defeated. When he does finally grab Hank he snuggles into his neck just a little too long and Aaron can see how desperately he’s holding on. “Hey Jack,” Aaron calls to his son down the hallway. “Why don’t you walk Hank down to grandma’s for dessert, huh? She’s got pecan pie and I think your cousins are over.”
Jack grabs his jacket, already knowing this was the plan but trying to make it look spontaneous. Derek frowns but Aaron just smiles and nods. “We’ll head over after you’ve had dinner. How can you have your pudding if you don’t eat your meat?” A Pink Floyd classic, usually enough with the terrible accent to elicit a smile and what he got was half-ass at best. He’d just pulled out a terrible quote with a truly awful accent and Derek barely cracked a smile. Jack bids them farewell with an excited Hank clinging to his side. That they only live two blocks from Fran is a blessing neither of them take for granted.
“I’m not really hungry,” Derek says quietly. Aaron wraps him up in a hug and holds him for a moment, breathing him in, swaying a little where they stand.
“You need to eat. I made you soup, it’s light. No noodles.”
That brings out a small smile. Bigger than before but still small. “Thanks.”
Derek eats without speaking. Aaron knows better than to try and get him to talk when he isn’t ready, he wouldn’t hold back but he might not have worked through all of it. He is impulsive and explosive when his feelings get too big, and when those two things combine with a bad day it almost always erupts into something that isn’t good for anyone. Instead, Aaron busies himself with some cleaning in the kitchen, keeping the noise to a minimum. Derek likes it quiet when he’s on edge.
“Aaron,” he says finally, pushing his bowl away and patting his stomach. “Anyone ever tell you that you make the best chicken soup in the world?”
“Don’t say that too loud, your mom might hear…” But Aaron smiles anyway and is warmed by the compliment. Cooking for Derek is one of his greatest joys in life. That he could be home early enough every day to cook for his family is a blessing he never envisioned. This entire life seems like a dream.
“Don’t care. She always makes me eat the slimy noodles. Yours is full of carrots and celery.”
“The kids love the noodles.”
Derek nods and leans back in his chair, running his hands over his sweat slicked head. It’s unseasonably hot and he’s exhausted. “Don’t think I’m ready to see my mom yet…”
“I actually had something else in mind,” Aaron says, entering the living room and walking with purpose. Derek watches him carefully as he approaches their vintage record player, a relic from his own childhood that he’d had restored, and opened the top. He already had a record in place.
“What are you doing?” Derek asks but he can’t help the smile. He knows when an evening has been planned. Aaron is anything but subtle, try as he might. But Derek can’t help thinking it’s sweet and playing along as if he’s a lot smoother than he is about spontaneity.
“Come here,” Aaron says, turning around as the music starts.
Made for me...you were made for me…
Derek takes Aaron’s outstretched hand and finds himself drawn into a lilting embrace, a sway, a hug. Aaron kisses him gently, smiling bright and then kissing him again. Before he knows what’s happening they’re dancing around their living room, hips swaying, Aaron leading and humming along with Sam Cooke as they move. Each step, each shift and sway erases more and more of the day from his coiled muscles. Derek loves to dance.
You’ve been mine ever since I met you, and I’ll never never never never leave you…
They dance in silence, losing themselves in the simplicity of their bodies. The way they fit together like puzzle pieces. Derek with his hands bunched in Aaron’s cashmere sweater, probably his favorite item of clothing Aaron owns. Part of the plan, he knows. Aaron is wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants with a cashmere sweater, an odd combination entirely for his benefit. He can feel the tears in his eyes. His day was bad but he doesn’t think he deserves all of this. Still, Aaron kisses him on the lips and then the jaw and down onto his neck and he simply moves in time with him and enjoys every single second.
...I know, I know you were made for me...
“Let’s go get the kids,” Aaron whispers against his pulse, teeth grazing the tender skin, hot breath spreading a flush of goosebumps down to his collarbone. “I have one more thing that I think will help you shake the day but we’ve got to get those kids in bed first...”