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Aaron travels through time like this – with Andrew holding tight to his wrists through the pain and sweat and tears like he can absorb it into his own soul, making Aaron breathe deeply through lungs he isn't sure work properly, grounding him to Earth that knows them.
He isn't sure why Andrew does it (which is a lie, he knows-), but it's nice to be cared for. He is the older twin, after all, but Andrew looks at him with the weight of the world resting precariously on his shoulders and the Portals icy grips still clinging to their bones.
***
At every stop, Aaron is given permission to comb Andrew's hair after they remove the sweat from their skin and the iciness of the Portal from their pores. Sometimes, if Andrew is deep in his own thoughts, Aaron lets the white-blonde strands go their own way and trails his fingers down, down, down to the nape of Andrew's neck. He lets himself lean forward and press his nose to the crown of his twin's head, down behind Andrew's ear, and lets them stay close for seconds or hours or years.
When Andrew shivers, it is a reminder that they are real, that they are human, that they will eat the world raw if someone is stupid enough to tear them apart.
Now don't get him wrong, Aaron knows what has been done to shatter his brother into pieces, knows that Andrew's soul has seen nothing but heavy hands and cruel words, but he also knows that when Aaron presses close and drags him in for a hug every few millennia, Andrew will curl into his arms and let himself be held.
It's a consent that Aaron knows is only for him. He smiles into the soft skin at Andrew's temple and refuses to acknowledge the inevitable punch to the bicep.
***
Aaron knows how to flirt.
He knows the general social cues of being interested; touching ones arm, leaning in close, laughing softly at a well-timed joke. He knows.
It's a skill that Andrew will hopefully never pick up, but Aaron can charm his way into the good graces (and pants) of any pretty girl that starts up a conversation with him, or any middle aged lady that recognizes the poison in his words.
On nights when he skips out on Andrew's company for girls and women (and on one special occasion, a boy no older than he), he feels the Portal whispering sweet words in the back of his mind, slowing his thoughts and reactions like finely aged scotch.
The Time Warrior worries of you, darling. Will you keep him waiting up for you? Will you tell him of the nights pleasures with a hickey on your throat? It says to him. Most of the time, he's buried deep in a girl he picked up that night, and growls at the interruption. You are Gods among Men, you are a Conqueror of Worlds. When has he done this to you?
He feels himself release, and gets up to go home (to go to Andrew, his mind tells him, but aren't they the same thing?) less than ten minutes later. Neither he nor the women he spends his nights with complain at his departure, and he is grateful.
***
Aaron gets hurt only once during their travels, and he will always remember how frantic Andrew looked when the bleeding in his gut wouldn’t subside.
He will always remember waking up the next morning with familiar blonde hair in his mouth and an ache in his stomach not helped by the weight on his chest.
He doesn't move, but he does tell Andrew he's an idiot for staying up all night with his voice hoarse from blood loss and disuse.
Andrew can't smack him for the sarcasm, not yet, but he sits up like he's about to pretend his watch over Aaron's heartbeat never happened. Aaron can only whip his hand out to catch Andrew's head, thread his fingers in his brothers hair, and yank him foreword through the ache in his joints with gritted teeth.
For the first time, Aaron presses chapped lips to Andrew's forehead for exactly three seconds, and doesn't miss the tiny hitch of breath Andrew gives him at the blatant display of affection.
"Thank you," Aaron whispers into the furrow between Andrew's eyebrows. "Thank you."
***
Despite Aaron cursing up a storm in every language he knows, despite him giving lecture upon lecture to Andrew, his moron twin still manages to get hurt when his words are too sharp for sensitive ears.
In 1950 in Kentucky, Andrew gets a knife to his stomach and a busted up nose; Aaron pulls him into an alleyway behind the bar where it happened and curses and curses and curses until Andrew is stable enough to walk to a hospital.
In 2130 in Nigeria, Andrew takes a bullet that was meant for Aaron, and blood bubbles from his mouth as he falls to his knees. Aaron cries out until his voice is raw, cries out for help until an ambulance comes to save his brother, his twin.
In 680 AD in what will come to be known as Great Britain, Andrew comes to him with fractured ribs and a snapped wrist, and Aaron doesn't speak as he resets his wrist and makes Andrew lie down while he checks his ribs.
In every situation, Andrew grins up at him like his once-in-a-lifetime smile can fix Aaron's hysteria.
(Most of the time, Aaron is loathe to admit that it can.)
***
So Aaron travels through time like this – with Andrew gripping his wrists hard enough to bruise and Aaron gasping at every stop, at every turn of the century, at every universe the Portal spits them out in.
They travel through space and time and Aaron can barely keep up, but Andrew looks at him like he created the planets, like he himself can be the Conqueror of Worlds the Portal tells him he can become.
They survive, and they live, but they are home to one another; whoever is stupid enough not to realize this does not deserve the time Aaron is sure doesn’t even exist.