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The words on the screen swam into blurred shapes, and Aaron heaved a sigh, rubbing his aching eyes.
23:51 blinked at him mockingly from the corner of his laptop screen, and that only intensified the dull throb steadily building behind his forehead.
Aaron seldom ever worked this late these days–the long, exhausting nights followed by too early, too bright mornings lay behind him for the most part, left back in lawschool and the uncertain fledgling days of his career.
With this case, though, he could not risk leaving anything to chance. He needed to be prepared for every possibility, every angle of attack a defence attorney could potentially conceive, needed to have a rebuttal and accompanying proof ready on the tip of his tongue, zero hesitation, no doubt, no mercy.
Aaron simply could not screw this up.
He couldn’t let this girl down. He wouldn’t.
The light rapping of knuckles on wood drew him from his contemplations–and made him realise that his screensaver had activated. He swiped the pleasant stock image of a random mountain range away with a quick tap to his touchpad just as the door opened.
Alexander entered, features all soft with sleep despite the out of place frown knotting his brows. He was in grey sweats and an old white shirt, dark silky hair gathered at the nape of his neck in a messy bun, bare toes curling against the carpet.
“You’re up late,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his eyes as he closed the door carefully behind himself.
Aaron couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he let himself turn from the harsh glow of his screen for a moment to fully appreciate his boyfriend.
“Says the man whose usual bedtime is two AM,” he said, and Alexander snorted a laugh as he made his way across their office, coming to a stop at his side, one hand settling warm and comforting on his shoulder. “Did you fall asleep on the couch again? You’re losing your touch, Hamilton.”
“Oh, shut it,” he said and slipped around him to stand at his back, lowering both his hands to his shoulders and rubbing gently, thumbs pressing into the knots at the base of his neck. Aaron sighed and leaned into the touch. “I get sleepy after a good dinner.” He paused, hands stilling. “I put the leftovers in the fridge. You haven’t even eaten yet.”
“I will once I finish up. Thanks, babe.”
Alexander hummed, unconvinced. “Big case, huh? I haven’t seen you this obsessed in ages.”
Aaron scoffed. “I’m not obsessed. It’s just… an important case. You know how it is.”
“I do,” he responded quietly and bent until he could press a kiss to Aaron’s cheek, words caressing his skin when he next spoke, “What’s so important about it, then? Maybe I can help.”
Aaron bit the tip of his tongue.
His unfocused, exhausted eyes caught on a snippet of the court case he could have recited from memory already, that had followed him into his dreams on more than one occasion, even; the six-year-old girl was admitted to Princeton Teaching Hospital on Thursday 28th at 8:35pm by her maternal grandfather with second and third degree burns on both her thighs and back, which were later concluded to have been caused by a flatiron.
The hand that rested on his desk slipped down into his lap, drifting to the inside of his forearm of its own accord. There, hidden underneath his sleeve and faded with the twenty years that had passed since, sat a burn mark. An old injury, one Alexander had inquired about only weeks after they’d first met, back in lawschool–the two of them drawn to each other by their shared ambitions and the fact that both of them had just managed to claw their respective ways out of foster care to full ride scholarships, and were now surrounded by nepo-babies and third generation lawyers in the making. Two lost and lonely kids who found themselves in one another.
Back then, he had told him what he had told everyone else; an accident involving an unsupervised hot pan when he was a small child.
It hadn’t come up again, so Alexander never found out the truth.
“Aaron?” Alexander’s soft voice, laced with concern and sleep, yanked him back into the present. “You okay, hun?”
Aaron cleared his throat and shook his head at himself, reaching his traitorous hand up to grasp that of his boyfriend’s resting on his shoulder.
“Yeah, sorry, just- tired.”
Alexander hummed, thoughtful, and shuffled behind him, more of his weight lowering onto his shoulders as he leaned over him, those sharp eyes without a doubt skimming the same passage that had caught his own attention just moments earlier.
“Oh,” he said softly and shifted his hand to link their fingers. “It’s a child abuse case? That’s… not usually what you go for.”
No, it wasn’t. There were people far better equipped to handle child related cases than he was, experts specialised in working with children–but apart from that, he had more selfish reasons as to why he usually steered clear of those kinds of courtroom cases.
“I know, I just… had to make an exception for this one.”
Alexander paused and drew his hands away with a last squeeze to his shoulders. He closed the laptop with a gentle clack and grabbed a hold of the chair’s armrest to swivel him around to face him. His mouth was a tense line, the corners turned down the slightest bit, and Aaron swallowed against his tight throat.
The back of his neck prickled from the intensity of those searching eyes on him, and Aaron made to swivel himself away again, unable to bear the weight of his boyfriend's obvious concern at an hour this late; Alexander held on tight. Didn’t let him escape.
He sucked in a deep breath, as if to brace himself. “Is this, um. About something that happened to you in foster care? Do you wanna talk?”
Aaron hesitated, his lips parted without any sound spilling from them. He studied Alexander, took in the strands of dark, tousled hair framing his face, the scruffy stubble decorating his jaw, those intense, shining eyes that had pulled him in so long ago, the way that shirt hung off his still too lean frame–and he only noticed then that it was one of his shirts.
Aaron averted his gaze and blinked his all of a sudden burning eyes, attempting to swallow the lump obstructing his throat.
He… loved that man so much. He had never loved anyone like he loved him, had never trusted anyone more deeply, had never even been able to imagine giving so much of himself to another person before he’d met him.
Alexander lowered himself to his knees in front of him in an attempt to meet his gaze, staring up at him from big, imploring eyes.
“Hey. What’s wrong, baby?”
Aaron let out a shuddering breath and forced himself not to clam up and deflect, as had been his first instinct for as long as he could remember. He patted his thigh without a word, but Alexander understood; he always did.
His boyfriend heaved himself back to his feet and carefully settled in his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Aaron rested a hand on his thigh, thumb sweeping gently back and forth, and some of his nerves melted away under the solid warmth of Alexander’s body.
Neither of them paid the strained creaking of the office chair any mind–it had withstood far more intense activities than this.
Alexander rested his free hand on his chest, palm over his heart, without a doubt noting his steadily rising heart rate. He loved taking his pulse when he thought Aaron wouldn’t notice, a thumb caressing his inner wrist, fingers lovingly stroking along his neck, an ear pressed to his bare chest when they cuddled in bed. Aaron never called him on it; he was such an endearing little weirdo, and he loved him for it.
“What made you take this case?” Alexander asked softly, knowing better than to tackle the point straight on in his usual headfirst-through-the-door style. That approach had never worked too well on him.
Aaron pulled a grimace of a smile, sour and without an ounce of humour nor happiness, and gently pried Alexander’s hand from his chest, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before he answered to buy himself a few precious moments of time.
“I’m not proud of my reasoning,” he said at last, studying the nimble fingers in his grasp instead of meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. “But… I suppose, well- that little girl reminded me of myself, in some ways. It’s selfish, really.”
Alexander made a disapproving little noise and frowned at him. “I don’t think it’s selfish. You’re doing something for that girl no one ever did for you when you were a child. You’re trying to help,” he said with that easy and passionate conviction that made him such a good lawyer.
“Maybe so,” he croaked and cleared his throat, squeezing Alexander’s hand. The conversation fizzled out into uncomfortable silence, and his boyfriend breathed a gentle, fond sigh.
“Aaron,” he said, tender and quiet like he never was for anyone else, his demeanour so opposite his public persona that it stalled Aaron’s breath for a moment. This was Alexander at his rawest, and it was for his eyes only. “We both know cases don’t usually affect you like this, even when it’s a fucked up one–what are you not saying? What’s going on?”
Aaron’s throat closed up and trapped all his words within it.
The faint mark on his arm tingled, along with a dozen other long healed hurts scattered all over his body. He hadn’t consciously thought about most of them in years, but now, as they crowded into the forefront of his mind and overwhelmed his senses, he realised that he never forgot a single one after all.
Aaron closed his stinging eyes and attempted to clear his throat, to regain his composure.
Alexander’s weight shifted nervously in his lap, and the hand clasped in his carefully withdrew to settle against his cheek instead; Aaron leaned into the gentle touch, soaking up the affection as he fought to contain the steadily swelling black hole that was eating away at his chest.
“How does she remind you of yourself? The little girl?” Alexander asked, the unease at seeing him in such a state obvious in his voice.
Aaron huffed a weak laugh. It turned into a sob halfway through, and when he forced himself to crack his heavy lids back open, he was met with complete and utter heartbreak reflected in Alexander’s bottomless eyes.
His boyfriend caught the lone tear that fell from Aaron’s lashes on his thumb and soothed it away, squirming closer, gripping tighter.
“Oh, honey,” he said, and his voice cracked under the weight of their shared emotion.
“Well,” Aaron croaked and flashed a tiny, weak smile in the hopes of easing some of that upset twisting Alexander’s features away. “She’s an orphan, for one. Was placed with a family member after their deaths. A family member, who-” He broke off, the images from the evidence files flashing before his mind’s eye like neon signs, tiny limbs covered in red, angry blisters, searing burns making pale skin bubble up, before and after comparisons of skin grafts, even.
His stomach turned, bile biting at the back of his throat.
He swallowed. Drew a deep breath, let it back out slowly. “Who hurt her. Someone entrusted with the safety of a child who decided he would hurt and abuse her instead.”
Alexander studied him, devastated.
“Who hurt you?” he said after several long, creeping moments. His thumb swept back and forth over his cheekbone, and Aaron zeroed in on that touch, focused on the soothing rhythm of it, the warmth, the comfort.
He had never told anyone about this. Had never talked about this at all, not even to his sister who had been there to witness it. Not a word about that man had parted from his lips since the day he last said goodbye to him over twenty years ago.
“My uncle,” he said, words barely above a whisper, and saying it out loud, putting a name to it, was like a punch to the gut. Worse than that, though, was the sorrow radiating off of Alexander in pulsing waves, the way he looked at him–without pity, he would never pity him, but with this deep, intimate hurt in his eyes, as though he felt Aaron’s pain like it was his own.
“I… he was made our guardian. Before we went into the system. The only family member available, and he-” His voice died, and the words wouldn’t come.
He closed his mouth.
Alexander’s eyes shone with tears matching the ones in his own eyes, but he only saw them for a second; his boyfriend enveloped him in a firm embrace, tucking Aaron’s head against his shoulder, and Aaron melted into it, his weakness concealed by Alexander’s strength.
“I never knew,” Alexander whispered, choked.
Aaron let his eyes slip shut and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s slight form, returning the embrace, drawing him closer.
“No one knew. I never told anyone.”
Alexander carefully pulled away until he could look him in the eyes, cupping his face between his hands.
“I’m sorry.” He kissed him, gently. A chaste, tender press of lips that conveyed the depth of his affection better than his million words ever could have. Another tear dripped down Aaron’s cheek, and he didn’t try to hide it. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened to you. I’m sorry, honey.”
The throbbing hurt tearing his chest apart from within faded ever so slightly, soothed by the balming essence of Alexander.
Aaron cleared his throat, blinking when Alexander sat back.
“I’m… glad I told you,” he said, and meant it.
The corners of Alexander’s eyes crinkled in a smile–that was his favourite expression on him, so happy, revealing the faint laugh lines he’d had to fight so hard for.
“Me too,” he agreed quietly and leaned in for another kiss.
Alexander pressed his forehead to his when they broke apart, and they remained like that for a minute, bathed in the golden light of the desk lamp and packed into one surprisingly robust office chair.
A drawn-out exhale puffed warm against his lips. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen now: we’ll get out of the office. You will eat the dinner lovingly prepared for you by your wonderful boyfriend. You will come to bed with me and let me cuddle you. And tomorrow, you’ll present your case to me, and I’ll help you iron out the finer details so you can watch that son of a bitch be sentenced to life in prison. Any objections?”
Aaron brushed his nose against Alexander’s, lips quirking into a faint smile. “No objections, your honour.”
Alexander hummed his approval. “Good. Come on, I’ll reheat dinner.”
He shuffled his clumsy way off of Aaron’s lap, stretching with a wince when he was back on his own two feet. The chair creaked pitifully, and Aaron rose as well, reaching out to tangle their fingers without another word exchanged.
“Thank you, baby,” he said quietly as they left their office behind, and Alexander squeezed his fingers and smiled up at him.
“Of course. I love you,” he said, easy as breathing, and Aaron-
Aaron couldn’t help but smile back, open wounds fading back into old scars.