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robronsecretsanta · 6 years

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Fanfic: and all our friends want us to fall in love

to @tryingtokeepthingssimple, love from your secret santa

Robert sprawls back under the midday sun. It’s hot, too hot - Aaron’s turning a ridiculous shade of pink, and it’s going to hurt later, but it’s worth it just to see Robert shine golden tanned.

“Me and Bex ended,” The older man says casually, like he doesn’t care that his relationship is in the gutter. He grins, pearly teeth and danger. “Doesn’t matter, though.”

His eyes are glinting in a way that scares Aaron a bit. “Why?” He asks, even though he isn’t sure he wants to know the answer.

“Because I’m havin’ a go on Chrissie again,” Robert laughs in that careless way of his. He stretches his arms above his head and his t-shirt rides up. Aaron can’t stop his gaze drifting to the soft skin of Robert’s belly. He can’t stop his face from heating up, either.

He can’t help but mutter, “Prick,” either. It falls from his lips before he has the time to stop it, and for a second, he feels stricken. But then he thinks about what he said and lets it hang. He meant it.

Robert turns his head, mouth dropped open in shock. “What did you call me?”

“You heard,” Aaron says, voice low. Robert may be his best friend but the way he treats people is disgusting. That’s why he said it. Well, that and the other thing.

“What is wrong with you?” Robert breathes, quiet and angry. He places his palms flat on the ground and pushes himself into a sitting position, eyes boring into Aaron’s. “Every time I mention someone new, you have a go!”

“Is it any wonder why?” Aaron snaps. He goes to stand, but Robert’s fingers curl around his wrist, pulling him back until he’s sitting opposite the younger man. He crosses his arms over his chest instead. “You treat people like shit, Robert!”

Robert smirks, and it’s bone-deep and unsettling. “It’s not just that, is it?” He counters coolly, face masked into a hard expression.

Aaron’s vision tints read, hands curling into fists. “No, it’s because you know how I feel about you, and you don’t care!” He spits. The words hang awkwardly in the air, and Robert’s wide eyes trace his face like he’s reading them again.

“What?” He asks, barely above a whisper. His hand falls from Aaron’s wrist, hangs by his side like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Forget it,” Aaron says. That was a mistake, his brain screams at him. And he knows that, feels it settling under his skin. He stands, and this time Robert doesn’t stop him. He turns, and this he time he doesn’t look at Robert. He walks, and this time he ignores Robert’s calls.

“Aaron!” Robert yells after him, but he’s not chasing him. That’s fine. He can block out the voice, ignore Robert’s existence.

He breaks into a sprint, feet burning and lungs aching, and when he gets back to Smithy cottage, he throws up bile so violently it makes his head pound.

Things are awkward - and even that’s an understatement.

Being in the same room as Robert is possibly the last thing Aaron wants right now, so he does the mature thing and avoids him like the plague. If they must pass in the street, he circles around the older man. If Robert comes into the cafe, he’ll swallow the rest of his coffee and leave.

Mature, obviously.

It’s fine. He doesn’t miss Robert, or the cadence of his voice, or the way his face shines in the moon light. That’d be boring.

And it’s not like Robert seeks him out, either - he’s just as bad, giving the garage a mile-wide berth, sitting at the opposite end of the pub. He doesn’t miss Aaron.

So they’re both in silent agreement. Aaron just wishes his heart would get the fucking memo.

As for Victoria, god - she wouldn’t get the hint if it punched her in the face, and Aaron’s tired of it.

She corners him in the cafe one morning, before work. Robert’s up at the counter, and Aaron can just about pick the tone of his words above the rest. “You and my brother aren’t speaking,” She says accusingly, pointing a finger into the centre of his chest.

“Great detective work, Vic,” He sighs, letting the sarcasm drip from his voice. He doesn’t have time for this - not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

She stabs her finger a bit harder, and he winces away. “Are you going to tell me why?” She asks, more of a demand. Aaron resulotely stares at a spot over her shoulder, and keeps his mouth firmly shut. “No, thought not.”

“Why ask?” Aaron bites back, trying to slip around her and make a dash for the door.

Victoria blocks him again, palm pressed against his t-shirt. “Worth a try,” She says with a shrug, but then her eyes light up in a way that tells him she’s up to something. “Oh, me and Rob have a free house this weekend. Party Saturday night.”

He shrugs, bored, and watches her frown deepen. “Busy,” He says shortly, and tries to shoulder her out of his way. She stops him though, with the hard stamp of her foot onto his shoe, and he swears loudly, not missing the glare that Bob sends him.

He doesn’t apologise. That’s a little (a lot) out of his comfort zone.

Instead, he quietens his voice, and asks, “What the fuck, Vic?”

“Right,” She says firmly, straightening her shoulders. She’s just a kid, really, but she’s intimidating and fierce and something in Aaron’s chest tightens with pride. He knows she’s gonna go far. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Robert, but I’m sick of it. It’s awkward and uncomfortable. So you’re coming Saturday, whether you like it or not, and you’re going to sort this out. Got it?”

There’s no way out of this one, and Aaron knows it. “Fine,” He says through a long-suffering sigh, and Vic finally steps aside to let him go.

He feels eyes on his back, a burning gaze, and something fluttering deep in his stomach tells him it’s Robert. But when he turns and glances over his shoulder, the other man is talking to Bob like nothing ever happened.

Maybe Aaron’s just dreaming.

Saturday arrives too fast for Aaron’s liking.

“Maybe tonight’s the night, man,” Adam says, a smirk on his face that’s too wide to be anything more than a lopsided smile. He straightens his shirt in the mirror and reaches over for Aaron’s aftershave. “Maybe Vic will finally see that we’re meant to be!”

He sprays enough Joop to kill a cow, and Aaron’s half choking on it before he manages to stagger over to the window and open it. “Or maybe tonight’s the night she comes to her senses and stays well away,” Aaron suggests with a teasing slap to his friend’s shoulder.

“Senses?” Adam snorts, turning to Aaron. “I think she lost those when she decided to get with you!”

“And look how that turned out,” Aaron says, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s accepted it, now. He’s gay and that’s that - can’t change anything.

Robert had helped more than Aaron cares to admit, but that thought stirs bile in his stomach so he shuts it down.

Aaron drags the next hour or so out as much as he can. He convinces Adam to have one more can at Paddy’s kitchen table, then shuffles over to the Sugden cottage slow enough that they’re late (“Fashionably late!” Adam cries. Aaron doesn’t have the balls to tell him why).

“Finally!” Vic huffs when they fall through the door in a mess of limbs and laughter. Aaron’s cheeks are flushed from the cold, hands stinging from carrying the freezing cold beers, and it’s all enough to forget about the situation, until-

Until he sees Robert.

The older man glances at Aaron, just briefly, but enough to have his nerves singing and his heart thudding. He looks disinterested - bored - but Aaron knows him. He knows it’s all just a front.

But Robert still turns away, back to a girl with perfectly bouncing hair and a figure-hugging dress.

So. That’s that.

It hurts Aaron more than it should.

It takes five cans and a bottle of vodka swinging loosely in his grip to make him feel a little less on edge. It’s still there though, in the background: in the ends of his hair that’s standing on end and the goosebumps on his skin.

“Spin the bottle!” Vic cries, words slurring together as she throws her arms up. She’s probably on the wrong side of drunk by now, and Aaron would keep an eye on her, but he knows Adam is - and Robert is watching them both like a hawk.

The party forms into some kind of misshapen circle, empty bottle in the middle. Aaron hates this kind of stuff, but Vic has a forceful hand pressed onto his shoulder, keeping him in place.

Robert is sat opposite, but- that’s easy to ignore. He stares resolutely at Holly, on the older man’s left and pulling faces at him.

The bottle spins and spins, and Aaron feels sick every time it slows down, but it doesn’t land on him. Not the first time, or the second, or all the times after, until-

“Aaron!” Vic screams, throwing her arms around him. She presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek and he struggles away, taking a swig of the vodka as Adam spins the bottle again.

It blurs into a circle of white, until Aaron can’t stand to look at it, so he closes his eyes.

That’s why he doesn’t see who it lands on.

It’s Adam’s loud guffaw of laughter that makes him look up, and he follows the line of the neck of the bottle to… to Robert, who’s sitting deadly still, glaring at the floor.

“Seven minutes in heaven!” Vic coos, both hands shoving at Aaron’s arm in an attempt to make him stand up.

“Vic,” Aaron says, quietly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She doesn’t listen though - never does. “It’s perfect! You can sort yourselves out!” She says, loud enough for Robert to look up.

“Can’t hurt,” Robert mutters. It’s low enough that Aaron has to strain to hear it, and it’s dark enough that he can only just make out the blush staining his cheeks.

It’s enough for Aaron to move, though.

He staggers to his feet and follows Robert, into the cramped cupboard under the stairs. The door shuts behind them and the noise of the party resumes – drunken cheers and the clinking of glasses – but it’s silent between them.

It’s dark, too; only an inch of light seeping through a crack between the door and the frame, but it lights up Robert’s features and shines in his eyes. Aaron can see every twitch of his face.

“So,” Aaron says, knees knocking against Robert’s as he sits with his back against the wall. He opens his mouth to say something else – maybe something about the weather, something sarcastic – but Robert shoots him a look to cut him off.

“Small talk?” Robert says, voice lilting at the end. He raises an eyebrow teasingly, but it feels more patronising. Something punches Aaron, low in the gut and uncomfortable.

“Not like I’ve got anything else to say to you,” The younger man snaps, turning his head. The din of the drunken teenagers continues, and Aaron focuses on picking out words from the shouts.

He can feel Robert’s eyes on him though: studying him, drinking in every little detail. “I’m sorry,” He says suddenly, voice small and nothing like him. “I shouldn’t have acted like I did.”

“Not your fault,” Aaron mutters, even though it definitely is.

“I get it,” Robert continues, barely listening to Aaron. His fingers inch closer and tangle with Aaron’s, resting on the younger man’s knee. “But I was scared. I didn’t- I couldn’t put it into words.”

“Put what into words?” Aaron asks, tongue suddenly dry. He feels confused, right to his core – like he knows what Robert’s saying, but doesn’t want to believe it.

“How I feel about you.” Robert says simply, staring at Aaron head-on. There’s no escape from his gaze, and it’s overwhelming, but Aaron can’t look away. He just lets his chest tighten and his breathing hitch, and looks back at Robert.

It gets too much, blue on green, sky meeting sea, so he tears his gaze away and looks at their tangled fingers. “How?” He manages to ask, words choked through his thick throat.

Robert just looks at him: blinks once, twice, then exhales and tightens his grip on Aaron’s hand. “I love you,” He says, voice rough but soft. “I didn’t know… I mean, I’ve always felt it, but I couldn’t work out what it was.”

“You’re with Chrissie again,” Aaron blurts out. He can’t even stop himself – it feels a lot like he’s hell bent on ruining this before it’s even begun.

The older man shakes his head though, and leans forward. Their foreheads brush from the proximity, noses knocking. “Not anymore,” He whispers, all raw honesty and heart wrenching truths. “I ended it. As soon as you told me, I was done. I don’t want anyone else.”

It’s too much – Aaron’s dreamt of this, wished for it even, but he never expected it. He never even thought Robert could swing that way until he came out, let alone fall for someone like Aaron. Something wraps itself around his lungs, squeezes the breath out of them. It spreads through his veins and burns his skin, explodes behind his eyelids.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers, barely a breath.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Robert says, a slight snap to his voice. He cups Aaron’s face in his hands, warm pads of his thumbs stroking along each side of his jaw. “You know me better than that.”

Aaron lets his eyes fall shut lazily, tries not to melt into the touch. Easier said than done, really. “Say it again,” He begs – demands.

Robert sweeps forward another inch, nudges their noses together and settles on his knees when Aaron’s legs fall open. “I love you,” He says, words full of things that he doesn’t show: desire, truthfulness, desperation.

“Okay,” Aaron says, a sigh of relief falling from his lips. He traces his fingertips feather-light under the material of the older man’s shirtsleeves, ruffles the fair hairs on his arm.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” Robert says, amused, thumbing under Aaron’s eyes so he opens them.

When he does, he sees Robert’s eyes, sparkling with happiness while his brow is creased with concern. “You’ll have to find out, won’t you?” Aaron teases back. He can’t help it – it’s how they’ve always been. Easy and unhurried.

Robert takes the cue though, presses forward until their lips are brushing. It’s a simple kiss, gentle and dry, but it feels like it lasts forever. Aaron doesn’t dare breathe until Robert pulls back.

“I love you,” The younger man murmurs, words spilling out before he can stop them. It feels right – more than it did that time in the field, more than it did whenever Aaron had dreamt about it – and the brilliant grin that beams from Robert’s face makes it all worthwhile.

The door bangs open with a loud crash against the wall, but Robert doesn’t jump away like Aaron expects him to. He just turns his head with a raised eyebrow, and glares at the interruption.

At Vic and Adam.

“Your seven minutes is up!” Victoria cries, so drunk that she’s barely recognising what’s right in front of her. Her eyes are glazed and it looks like Adam is taking most of her weight.

Adam sees it though, and laughs, loud enough to get the attention of several kids in the room who turn their heads to look. “Looks like you sorted things out!” He cackles, arm slung around Vic’s shoulders.

Robert doesn’t bite hard like he usually does whenever Adam makes a crack, just glances back at Aaron with a sweet, secretive smile on his face. “Yeah, well,” He says, eyes trained on the younger man. “Sometimes all you have to do is talk.”

It’s enough of a dig that Adam blushes and pulls Victoria away, mumbling something about giving them a couple more minutes. Aaron’s grateful, even if he thinks that Robert could’ve handled it better – he knows he would’ve.

“This lot are probably gonna be here all night,” Robert whispers, closer than Aaron had realised. His lips brush against the shell of the younger man’s ear, breath warm against his cheek.

“Could always come back to mine?” Aaron suggests, curling his fingers around the ball of Robert’s shoulder. He holds on tight and sways upwards, catches Robert’s mouth with his own.

“Guess I could,” Robert smirks, and pulls Aaron to his feet.

Tonight, they share Aaron’s bed. It’s nothing that they haven’t done before, nothing that hasn’t been a regular thing since they were kids, but this- this is different.

This is Robert folded into the contours of Aaron’s body, forehead resting against the younger man’s temple. This is Robert’s arm curled over Aaron’s stomach, fingers tangled together. This is Robert, kissing him awake in the morning and making breakfast.

This is them. This is exactly where they’re meant to be.

#tryingtokeepthingssimple #robron fanfiction #Robron #aaron x robert #emmerdale

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