Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The flash of red clung to the raindrops on his windshield, glistening like rubies as they trickled down before being swiped away by the wipers. Robert wanted to be home. Well, not home. But he hadn’t been back there in so long that, sometimes, it didn’t even seem like a real place anymore. Just a faded memory, tucked away at the back of his mind, causing him immeasurable pain every time it sprung out on him.

The traffic light changed and he hammered on the accelerator, his Audi roaring into life as he shot forwards. The roads were relatively quiet, but then it was almost two in the morning. He had only gone to get a bottle of whisky, something to numb the loneliness and possibly force him into sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time his head had hit the pillow and closed his eyes immediately. Weeks now, he thought, or possibly months. It was hard keeping track of time when there was no divide between being awake and being asleep. It all just blurred together, your mind untethered from your body, floating off in a world of its own.

A group of people staggered along the pavement, yelling something towards the night sky, possibly an attempt at singing though Robert couldn’t be sure. He almost felt envious, which just showed how much he needed to get out. It was hard though. Big city, big business. There wasn’t time or opportunity to make friends, and the ones he had made were all arseholes. They sniped and judged, huddling in corners to whisper about other people behind their backs. He had joined in, of course. Wanted to be one of them, but his skin had crawled every single time, and eventually he couldn’t hack it. Now he was the person being whispered about.

Not that he had ever been good with people. If he wanted something from them then fine. He was good at manipulation, that had always been true, but his charm and smiles were always temporary. He had never felt comfortable around anyone, not enough to actually be himself. He was always playing a part, giving someone the version of himself they wanted to see, but it wasn’t him.

He felt his heart give a small twinge and hurriedly put the radio on, jumping as it blasted out from the speakers. He just needed to be back in his own space, then he would feel better. He was always melancholic when he was driving at night.

He turned into a much narrower street, the pavements glowing orange under the hazy, dim street-lights. The buildings looked depressing up here, all grey concrete and dank gutters gushing out water and God knows what else. He didn’t usually come this way, but his own route was being dug up by the Council and this was the quickest way round it. The fact that this seemed like a place you could get murdered probably would have troubled him a lot more if he wasn’t so bloody exhausted. As it was, he didn’t care enough to go back. He’d be fine… probably.

He slowed at the junction, checking for any other cars, before racing off again round the corner, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he fought the temptation to close his eyes. His lids were at half-mast, lashes fluttering shut, desperate for sleep… And then he saw something, movement, a blur of black which cut across the road and slammed into the bonnet of his car. He almost broke his foot pushing down on the brake, hurtling his upper-body forward as the car screeched to a halt. It took him a second to understand what had happened, but then he was clambering out of the car, legs shaking from fear or exhaustion he couldn’t be sure, praying to anyone who was listening that he hadn’t just killed someone.

On the road a metre or so from the car was a body, crumpled in a heap, curled into itself. Even with the car headlights, Robert struggled to make out any discernible features.

“Are you all right?” he called, too frozen to move any further forward. What was he going to do? He could go to prison for this. He would be charged with manslaughter at the very least. He couldn’t go to prison…

The body groaned and Robert let out a small, relieved gasp before realising that just because the person wasn’t dead, didn’t mean they wouldn’t be soon if he didn’t help them. He rushed over, legs still the consistency of jelly, and knelt down beside them. Now that he was closer, Robert realised it was a man - young, thin, dark hair, shaking visibly.

“Hey, you ok?” He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder but was immediately pushed backwards, his shoulder slamming off the tarmac, bits of stone scraping against his bare skin where his t-shirt had been dragged back.

He hissed in pain, pushing himself back up into a sitting position, his eyes meeting the stranger’s gaze. He looked terrible. Unbelievably pale, hair wet from the rain and dishevelled, unkempt beard. And his eyes. That’s what Robert couldn’t help but look at. His eyes were dead.

“Look, I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I didn’t see you, mate, I promise. You came out of nowhere.”

The man hauled himself upright, kneeling on the ground, dark jeans scuffed from where he had fallen. Robert watched him intently, checking him over for blood or broken bones. Remarkably, he didn’t seem that hurt.

“I’m fine.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but the quiet road meant Robert could just make out the words. He felt the weight of guilt ease slightly and he nodded, glad he hadn’t just near-killed someone.

“Good. Look, I can drive you to A&E if you want, get someone to check you over? Least I can do, really.”

The man looked up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked suddenly in pain, and Robert wondered whether the guy was covering, maybe he had been hurt after all.

“No. Don’t bother, I’m fine.”

He didn’t sound fine, but Robert couldn’t do much about that if he didn’t want any help. And it wasn’t like he was all that safe to drive, in all honesty. He’d almost fallen asleep at the wheel. Maybe it would be better if they just went their separate ways.

“All right, well, if you’re sure.”

He got up, rubbing at his throbbing shoulder and offered the man his hand. There was a moment, barely a second really, when Robert was sure the guy was going to bolt, run in the opposite direction. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on, nothing he’d be able to explain, but just something in the way the guy flinched when he moved closer, the way every muscle in his body seemed to tense… It was so quick that he didn’t even know if he’d seen anything at all, and then his hand was in Robert’s, cool and dry to the touch, and Robert pulled him to his feet.

“Definitely don’t want a lift anywhere?” he offered again, just to be on the safe side. He needed to satisfy his conscience that he’d done all he could, and just in case the guy did drop dead at some later point and the police were asking questions. He shook the idea from his mind. It wasn’t something he wanted to dwell too long on.

The man shook his head, hands shoved into his trouser pockets, droplets of rain clinging to his bare neck as he looked down at the ground.

“Ok, well, get home safe then.”

Robert felt suddenly awkward, like he didn’t know what to say but that what he had said wasn’t good enough. What did it matter? The guy said he was fine, he should have been able to just walk away, but it was like there was something else still there, something unsaid.

He stood waiting for another second, deliberating with himself, fighting his own mind, before forcing his feet to move back towards his car. He got in, shivering from the cold seat, and started the engine. When he looked up, the guy had started walking down the street. No, he was limping down the street, left leg supported by the right.

Robert groaned and wound the window down, letting the car coast forwards. “Look, I should really drive you home. I don’t mind, honestly.”

The guy ignored him, face turned away, and Robert noticed he’d picked up his pace.

“If you’re leg’s hurt, then-”

“Look, I get it, you feel bad about hitting me with your car, but I don’t need anything from you! Just leave me alone, all right?” the man snapped, now turning to face Robert, his jaw clenched tightly.

“Sorry. I just thought… I don’t know, if you’re hurt…” He didn’t know what he was saying. He was so tired, and there was obviously no point in him trying to help. The man didn’t need it, that was for sure.

“I’ll just get off, then,” he finally said, almost kicking himself for sounding so… he didn’t even know what he sounded like. Pathetic, probably. He rolled the window up again and pushed the car into a higher gear, pressing his foot down hard on the accelerator. He didn’t look in his mirror until he got to the end of the street, and when he did, there was no one there, almost like he’d been a ghost.

Robert only hoped he wouldn’t be the type to come back and haunt him…

Chapter Text

Aaron leaned against the damp, brick wall, breathing heavily. His left side was in agony, from his shoulder to his hip, the pain coming in waves. He thought he was going to be sick and he doubled over, letting out a breath which made his lips tremble.

Maybe he should have got that lift to the hospital. But no, that wouldn’t have helped. They would have asked about the scars, and he couldn’t tell them. Couldn’t tell anyone. He was better on his own, he could take care of himself.

He pulled his shirt up but it was too dark to tell how bad the damage was. Probably not a broken rib, but definitely bruised. He’d be out of action for a while, that was for sure, not that that was an option. He needed the money.

The fear rose inside him and he pushed it down, refusing to let it get to him just yet. He needed to find somewhere to rest his head, get some shut eye. He wasn’t up to walking all the way to the hostel, not that they’d have him back anyway, not after that bastard with the snake tattoo went at him with a knife. What was he supposed to do, stand there and be stabbed? But he’d hit someone else by accident, and that was enough. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time, that was his life. Being hit by a car proved that.

Aaron almost laughed but his side was hurting too much for it to last any longer than a second before he groaned again. He had to get somewhere dry. Last thing he needed was to catch pneumonia as well as everything else. Of course, if he got off with someone, they’d take him back to theirs, even if it was only for a few hours. Not that he’d get any sleep then, but at least he’d be warm.

There was no battery in his phone, and the screen had a crack in it where he’d fallen, so it probably wouldn’t work anyway. And besides, who would he have called? There wasn’t anyone to help, he was on his own. He should have been used to it by now, God knows he’d had enough practice at relying on himself for everything. It still winded him though, on the few occasions when he let himself think about it.

He sniffed hard, shoving the phone back into his pocket and heading off towards his regular spot. Everyone knew what went on. It wasn't a secret - the police would sometimes do a drive by, waiting for some idiot punter to try and make a move on one of the lads and then they'd knick him. Mostly, though, the good old law enforcement just left them to it. They had better things to be getting on with, bar brawls to break up or petty vandals to stick in cuffs. No one really cared all that much about the rent-boys standing on street corners, or the guys who would come and pick them up. Why would they? And what could they do, really, even if they did give a damn? Sex was just something else to buy and sell, no different from your grocery shop... only hopefully a bit more pleasurable.

Aaron smiled at that, a hollow smile which didn't touch his blue-grey eyes and he pushed on through the pain, keeping up a good pace as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, partly for warmth and partly to try and stop his side from hurting so badly. What guy was going to want him if he could barely walk? He'd just need to hide it as best he could, hope they weren't too rough with him. Maybe he could ask them to take it easy... Yeah, as if that was ever going to happen.

The street was almost deserted when he arrived, one of the lamp-lights flickering eerily. There was a volvo parked at the other end and a guy was walking round to the passenger side. Aaron watched them leave before walking further down. There was only one other guy, not someone Aaron had seen before. As he got closer, he realised how young he was. Seriously young. Way too young, if Aaron was being honest. His dark hair was curled by the rain and his rectangular glasses just made him look like he was in school. Aaron bit his lip, hoping to God he was at least old enough to be having sex.

"You all right?" he asked, leaning against the lamp-post. The young guy flinched before turning to face him.

"Yeah, thanks... You?"

His voice sounded like it was shaking and Aaron sighed. He didn't need this, not tonight. "Yeah, fine. Not seen you around here before. New, are you?"

"That obvious?" He smiled and he looked so cute and boyish that Aaron felt a twinge deep in his chest. He remembered when he'd looked like that. God, that was a long time ago now.

"Well, we've all got to start somewhere, I suppose," he joked, rubbing his arm for warmth. "This your first time out?"

The boy nodded. "Yeah. No takers though."

Aaron smiled. He wasn't surprised. The guys who drove past this way wanted someone experienced, someone who would fuck and be fucked and that was it. They didn't want someone who looked like he still had a packed lunch and would probably cry after sex. They didn't want that kind of hassle.

"Well, if I get anyone, you can always watch me talking to them. See how it's done?"

He looked genuinely pleased at that. "That'd be great, thanks. None of the other guys would speak to me."

"Yeah, we're not all that friendly. I'm Aaron, though."

He stretched out his hand and the boy shook it hesitantly. "I'm Finn."

Aaron nodded, now leaning back against the lamp-post. He could feel the cold getting to him, seeping through his skin and almost burning him. He should have taken his jacket, but then he hadn’t really planned on being out this late. It was probably after two now, most of his regulars would have found someone else or gone home empty-handed. If he hadn’t been hit by that damned car…

“Have you been doing this long, then?”

He didn’t want to be rude, but the last thing Aaron wanted was to start small-talk with this boy. All he really wanted was a bed and some sleep. Fat chance of him getting either of those now, though.

“A while, yeah,” he replied, trying to keep his voice light but failing.

Finn nodded, stealing glances at him as though trying to work up the courage to say something else.

“You enjoy it?”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh, and then immediately hissed as a bolt of pain shot through his side.

“Fuck.”

“You ok?” Finn asked immediately, taking a step forwards.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Aaron replied, turning away from him. He pulled up his shirt a little, and under the light he saw the patchwork bruises which looked like oil against his pasty skin. God, no wonder it hurt.

“Did… Did someone do that to you?”

Aaron shove his shirt back down, not realising Finn had been staring. “No. No, no one did it. I had a run in with a car.”

“Did you go to a hospital?”

Aaron was just about to tell him to mind his own business when he saw a pair of headlights round the corner. His eyes flicked from Finn and back to the car, deciding that it was better he take this one. The boy wasn’t nearly ready enough.

The silver BMW slowed as it approached him and he saw the driver’s window steadily lower. The guy inside was fairly thick-set, hairline receding, forehead visibly damp with sweat. Great, Aaron thought, was it too much to ask for a Brad Pitt lookalike?

“You free?” he asked, voice deeper than Aaron had imagined.

“For you I am,” he replied automatically, leaning against the side of the car and giving him a smile.

“Oh, yeah? I bet you say that to everyone.”

“No, not me. I tell it like it is. Honest to the core.”

“A good boy, are you?”

Aaron felt his skin crawl but smiled anyway. He’d played this game so many times now, he didn’t even need to think about it. He was on auto-pilot.

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

The man gave a grunt of approval, his dark eyes roaming over Aaron’s body. “Well, what are you waiting for then? Hop in.”

Aaron didn’t wait to be told twice. He walked round to the passenger side of the car, giving one brief glance towards Finn who was now standing well back, half-obscured by the shadows, before sliding into the car seat.

Immediately he felt a hand on his thigh just as the door slammed shut and he bit down hard on his tongue, every bruised muscle contracting painfully. He could do this, he needed to.

“Shy, are you?” the guy murmured, leaning across and pulling Aaron’s face towards him, pressing their lips together. He wasn’t a bad kisser, not compared to some of the men he’d been with, and he was fairly gentle which was a definite surprise.

Aaron leaned in closer but immediately gasped, the pain in his side overwhelming.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” he breathed, his teeth grinding together as he tried exhale slowly. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“Look, sweetheart, if you’re not willing to put out then I’ll find someone else who is. You’re not that special.”

“No, I’m fine. Honestly.” He wasn’t, but the car was warm and he didn’t want to leave.

The guy pulled him back in for a kiss and Aaron stopped breathing, the pain so bad it almost blinded him. If he could just keep it going for another minute or so…

His whole body convulsed and he pulled away, no longer able to hide the agony which was plain for anyone to see.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He was angry, that was obvious, and Aaron knew it would be better for him to just leave now.

“Sorry. Thought I could do this but… Look, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck off, then. Go on, get out of my car.”

He didn’t need to be told again, pulling the handle and stumbling back outside. The car roared into life and Aaron had to jump backwards so his foot wouldn’t get run over. He grimaced as the car disappeared down the street before making his way back up onto the pavement.

“What happened there?”

“Nothing. Leave it, will you?”

Aaron cursed himself, his fingers now turning to ice. He should have just fought through it. Now he was going to be out here all night. He needed to get somewhere warmer. The adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel every bone in his body aching. God, he just wanted somewhere to lie down and sleep…

“Get in.”

His eyes had fallen shut and he opened them, recognising the voice. It was the man. The man who had hit him with his car. The one with the kind face.

“Where did you come from?” he asked, startled to see him again.

“Doesn’t matter. Get in. Come on, it’s freezing out here.”

Aaron thought about refusing, but what was the point? Chances were, he wasn’t going to get another offer tonight, and at least this guy seemed nice. And decent enough in the looks department. Well… decent was probably an understatement.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said, but he was already moving towards the car. It looked warm.

The man rolled his eyes and pushed the door further open. “I hit you with my car, so yeah, I do. And you look like death, so just get in, will you?”

Aaron turned back to Finn who had again melted into the shadows. "You be all right if I leave?"

"Yeah, sure," Finn replied but he didn't sound all that convincing. But Aaron could barely think through the pain and he didn't have the energy to care enough so he just nodded and got into the car, sinking back into the leather seat, fighting his heavy eyelids which were threatening to close again. He was exhausted.

He felt the engine kick in, the heavy thrum vibrating beneath his feet, and he felt his head fall back against the headrest.

"Where to?" he heard the man ask, but he couldn't speak, couldn't think. He just needed to sleep, needed to... needed... need...

Chapter Text

He had soft, dark lashes. They skimmed his impossibly pale skin, framing his closed eyes like a black halo, fluttering slightly when he inhaled a shaky breath.

Robert pulled back slightly, realising how long he had simply been staring. He had gone far too long without sleep, and without any human contact, if he was being at all honest with himself. He sighed, leaning over the sleeping man to unclip his seat belt, and felt his cool breath gently brush against his ear as he did so. It was nothing, and yet the hollow pit in his stomach almost ached to feel it again.

He manoeuvred himself back out of the car, now analysing the man with a far less… intimate stare. He should have taken him to a hospital, but he’d said no to that offer already and Robert didn’t want to go against his wishes. Who the Hell was he kidding? It had nothing to do with that - he just didn’t want to have to explain that he almost mowed someone down with his car.

But he didn’t look too bad, really. Pale, yes, impossibly so, but he was breathing. That was a plus, surely? And if Robert could somehow get him into his flat and give him a bed for the night, then it was possible he might avoid a court case and even ease some of the guilt which had been gnawing away at him for almost an hour. Guilt did not sit well with him - it wasn’t an emotion he was overly used to or fond of, and he tended to put it off as much as he could. But for some reason, it had got to him this time. Maybe he was getting soft in his old age. Either that or he just couldn’t handle knowing he had hurt yet another person who didn’t deserve it.

The sudden image of Vic crying made him turn away slightly, almost as though he could avoid the memory completely if he looked in the opposite direction. He had been a coward then as well, too afraid and too stubborn to stay with his family. No, he’d just run. Run from all of them, just like he always did. At least they had finally learnt from their mistakes. They hadn’t forgiven him this time around.

The man groaned and Robert snapped back into the present, immediately leaning forward to check if he was all right.

“Where… Where…?”

“You’re safe. You’re in my car, outside my flat. I was just about to wake you,” Robert said calmly, Vic’s angry, tearful shouts still echoing in his mind.

The man opened his eyes, bloodshot and blue, and fixed Robert with a hesitant stare. “Sorry… for falling asleep.”

“I didn’t take it personally,” Robert joked, giving him a relieved grin. He was still running off the adrenaline and relief that he hadn't killed someone.

The man nodded, corners of his mouth quirked slightly upwards. He moved in his seat, twisting round till his feet were dangling over the side, shoulder leaning heavily against the doorframe.

“I’m Aaron.”

“Robert.”

He suddenly had the most ridiculous urge to shake his hand but quickly pushed the thought away. What exactly did he think this was? They weren’t business associates, they weren’t about to have a conference. He had rammed his Audi into him, and then tailed him to that seriously shady street, and now he was going to invite him to stay in his flat for the night… They were well passed the point of shaking hands.

Aaron’s left arm was wrapped tightly around his middle, and Robert gestured for him to put his right around his shoulder.

“Not sure you’ll be able to walk on your own,” he explained, crouching low so Aaron could lean against him. The rain had eased a bit but the pavement was icing over in parts and the last thing Robert wanted was another accident on his hands.

He braced himself as he took Aaron’s weight, standing up slowly and pulling out his keys so he could lock the car, before beginning the short walk across the carpark to the building in front of them. His flat, all glass and steel, had been a perk of a recent investment - the old warehouse had been due for demolition until a couple of entrepreneurs had gotten together to front the cash for a ‘luxury development’. He’d known one of them from years back and become a significant investor, meaning he had the choice of the flats once they were finished. It still wasn’t the same as home, but it was liveable at least.

“There’s a lift,” Robert reassured Aaron as they made their way slowly towards the main entrance, “so you don’t have to worry about climbing the stairs.”

Aaron gave him a grateful look, but Robert could tell he was struggling with the pain. Take him to a hospital, what if he’s seriously hurt and doesn’t even know it yet? He ignored the voice in his head, the one which momentarily gave him sensible suggestions that he never listened to, and pushed open the door, guiding Aaron through, making sure to keep one arm tightly wrapped around him for support.

They stayed silent as they made their way up to the sixth floor, Aaron’s breathing a wheezing rattle which made Robert’s heart stutter every time he heard it above the generic instrumental lift music. The two of them, awkwardly silent in a lift, arms around each other might actually have been funny to him if he wasn’t so terrified of the poor man dropping dead.

“You live here?” Aaron asked incredulously when Robert unlocked his front door onto the open-plan living-room and kitchen.

“Surprised?”

“Suppose I shouldn’t be. Your car’s flash enough.”

Robert smiled, chucking his keys into the bowl by the door and manoeuvred Aaron over to the sofa, easing him down, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. He looked exhausted. They probably both did.

Aaron chewed on his bottom lip, gaze unfixed as he scanned the room, before returning his attention to Robert. It was like he wanted to ask something but didn’t know how, and Robert found himself crouching down in front of him, one hand still on his shoulder.

“Can I get you anything?” He kept his voice quiet, the stillness in the flat enveloping them both.

Aaron shook his head, but he looked so unsure that Robert almost wanted to ask again, just in case.

“Glass of water? Or maybe-”

His thoughts scrambled as Aaron suddenly pushed himself forwards and fused their mouths together. They were rough and wet but they felt so good and the pressure almost made him groan. And then he realised what was happening and he pulled back, the loss of contact worse than he could have imagined.

“Um…”

“Sorry… I thought… I mean, you brought me to your flat, so I just thought…” Aaron didn’t finish, but he gestured between them, and Robert suddenly realised what he meant.

“Oh God, no!” he exclaimed. “No, that’s not why… It was the least I could do, that’s all. I didn’t mean… I didn’t bring you here because…”

His cheeks were suddenly very hot and he stood up, twisting the strap of his watch for something to do. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right, that’s all. Nothing more.”

It wasn’t that Aaron looked hurt, exactly. But there was something there, disappointment perhaps, and Robert could almost understand it. No matter the circumstances of their meeting, or what he had intended when he had brought Aaron up to his flat, that kiss had been…

“Why don’t I get you into the spare bedroom? I imagine you’re pretty tired.”

Aaron wouldn’t meet his stare and he was almost relieved, but he nodded and that was all the confirmation necessary. Robert helped him to his feet, though this time he didn’t leave any lingering hands anywhere which might have been misleading. They were strangers. Robert could have killed him. This wasn’t a bloody rom-com.

As he opened the door onto the guest bedroom, he realised with a twinge of sadness that he could no longer remember the last time anyone had used it. It wasn’t as though he got any visitors and his ‘friends’ weren’t exactly that close. Pathetic, really, but he didn’t have anyone but himself to blame.

The duvet had been neatly tucked into the sides of the bed and Robert pulled back one corner, stepping back and finding himself suddenly unable to do anything except stand and stare as Aaron shuffled forwards. He looked very small under the bright bedroom light, his black t-shirt hanging off him loosely, shoulders hunched forwards as if trying to hide.

“Right… I’ll leave you to it,” he said, knowing he had stayed too long. This was too weird for words. He made his way towards the door but stopped when Aaron cleared his throat.

“Anything wrong?”

Aaron turned, lips pressed together as though to stop himself from blurting out something.

“Why are you doing this?”

It wasn’t an aggressive question, just confused, like he couldn’t understand what would prompt Robert to do any of this. Maybe Robert didn’t understand it himself. He just knew it was the right thing to do, and he’d gone with it. First time for everything, he supposed.

“No reason, really. Just thought I could help.”

The answer didn’t seem to satisfy either of them, but they were both prepared to leave it at that, at least for tonight. Robert closed the bedroom door behind him, trying not to stare too long as the gap closed.

He padded across to his own bedroom down the hall, kicking off his shoes and tugging down his jeans before sinking under the covers. He suddenly felt like he could sleep for a week, something he hadn’t experienced in months. He closed his eyes, mind already fogged over with sleep, and just before the exhaustion consumed him completely, his lips managed to quirk upwards into the most subtle of smiles.

Chapter Text

It was the light that woke him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d managed to sleep right through the night, but then he hadn’t almost been run over before, so it was probably understandable. And, of course, he was in a proper bedroom, with an incredibly comfortable bed, and it was warm and soft and the thought of leaving it was unbearable.

He twisted round and immediately cried out as a sharp stab of pain shot through him. He screwed his eyes shut, breathing through gritted teeth, and buried his head into the pillow so his groan would be muffled. He gripped the side of the mattress, praying the pain would ease in a second, and then flinched when he heard a knock on the door.

“Aaron?”

He managed to turn round, forcing down the waves of pain which kept hitting him over and over, and leant heavily against the headboard.

“Hey.”

Robert was stood in the doorway, blonde hair ruffled from sleep and wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He looked half-asleep, dark-circles prominent under pale green eyes, and he was chewing on his lower lip.

“Do you want me to bring you some paracetamol? I know it’s not exactly ideal but… well, it might help a bit?”

Aaron nodded and watched through the gap in the door as Robert shuffled across to the kitchen, pulled out a packet of pills from a drawer and yanked out a bottle of water from the fridge. He didn’t realise anyone actually drank bottled water at home - how rich was this guy?

When he came back, he placed the glass and tablets on the bedside table and Aaron got a brief waft of coconut which he imagined was Robert’s shampoo. It smelled good.

“Thanks” he said quietly, leaning over to get the glass and wincing. “Fuck.”

Robert was beside him in an instant, sat on the very edge of the bed and handing Aaron the glass and dropping the two tablets into the palm of his hand.

“Do you need me to help?” he asked, gesturing towards the glass of water.

Aaron shook his head, embarrassed by how pathetic he must seem. “No, it’s fine. I can manage.” It was probably rude of him to be so dismissive, but he wasn’t a child. He didn’t need anyone’s help.

Robert nodded, standing awkwardly and pointing towards the kitchen. “I was just going to make breakfast… if you want anything?”

Aaron suddenly realised how hungry he was, unable to remember when he had last eaten. “You don’t have to…”

“Don’t get your hopes up - I was offering toast or cereal, not a full English,” he joked, and Aaron relaxed a little.

“All right. Yeah, toast would be good.”

He waited until Robert had gone back through before placing the two pills on his tongue and swallowing them quickly with a chase of water. His left side was still throbbing but it was bearable, just as long as he didn’t make any sudden movements. He pushed himself towards the edge of the bed cautiously, letting his feet dangle over the side for a minute before attempting to stand. His legs felt like jelly and he had to hold on to the bedside table for a second while his vision rippled like water.

He took a deep breath, inhaling through his nose, eyes closed as the world swayed a little, and then forced himself to start walking.

The open-plan layout made the main portion of the flat ten-times bigger than it probably was. The kitchen was against the back wall with sleek, black counters and marble tops. There were various appliances, all of them looking like they wouldn’t be out of place in a chef’s kitchen, and an especially impressive coffee-machine which sat on the island.

To Aaron’s left was a corridor which had three doors - he imagined one was Robert’s bedroom, one was a bathroom and the other was likely for storage.

The rest of the floor space was taken up with two huge, black, leather sofas and an incredible flat screen TV which seemed to dwarf the wall it hung on.

Despite the furniture and the high-tech gadgets, there was barely anything else to look at. No shelves with books, no magazine rack, no photographs. It was like a showroom.

“If I lived here it wouldn’t be this tidy - there’d be stuff everywhere,” he commented, taking another step towards the kitchen despite his desperation to just collapse onto dark wooden floor.

Robert looked up from the toast he was putting on two plates. “Not sure I’ve got enough stuff to actually make any mess, really.”

“One of these minimalists, are you?” Aaron asked, trying to sound smarter than he was. For some reason, he had the urge to impress him, as though he could say anything which would match up to this place. Who was he kidding? There was nothing impressive about him.

Robert raised an eyebrow. “You into interior decorating?”

“Oh yeah, all us gays are,” Aaron replied sarcastically, giving him a wry smile. “We love furniture and… paint…”

Robert snorted, taking the plates over to the dining table which sat in the furthest away corner, next to the floor-to-ceiling window. “Yeah, you sound like a right expert.”

“Well, you obviously like the whole black and white thing.”

“Monochrome?”

Aaron came to join Robert, heaving himself into a chair and trying not wince. “If that’s what you want to call it then, yeah. Didn’t fancy adding a bit of colour?”

Robert gave a quick glance around the room, as though he’d only just realised what the flat looked like. “Almost sounds like you’re complaining.”

Aaron smirked. “Not my place, you can do what you want. Just seems a bit…”

“What?”

Aaron shrugged. “I don’t know. Doesn’t look very lived-in.”

Robert glanced at him, his expression unreadable and took a gulp of his coffee. “Yeah, well, I’ve not been here long. And I’m busy with work, so…”

Aaron nodded, wondering if he’d pushed the joke too far. “Yeah. What work is it you do?”

“Investments, mainly. I invested in this site, actually, that’s how I got the flat. Perk of the job.”

“Sounds good.”

Robert shrugged. “Competitive, but it pays well. It’s a job, you know?”

Aaron suddenly felt very uncomfortable, realising that he didn’t know. His line of work wasn’t exactly… orthodox.

Robert seemed to sense it as well, his gaze shifting from the table to Aaron and back again, unable to focus.

“What would you have done… if I hadn’t picked you up?”

Aaron bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “Not sure.”

“You have a place to stay?”

“I’ve got friends…”

“But not a place of your own?” Robert pushed, his toast now having been discarded. Aaron had his full attention.

“Well, we can’t all have important investment jobs,” Aaron retorted, hoping to end the conversation there.

Robert smiled. “That’s true. But you have somewhere you can go? I mean…”

“I’ll be fine. Always am.”

He didn’t look happy with that answer and grabbed his cup and went over to the sink. Aaron stayed sitting.

“What about family?”

This was getting too close for comfort, Aaron thought, a knot of dread forming in his stomach. “No,” was all he could say, no longer able to look him in the eye.

“No family, or you don’t keep in touch?”

“Not sure that’s any of your business,” Aaron snapped.

Robert looked taken aback but he composed himself quickly. “Sorry. Yeah, you’re right. Nothing to do with me. I just thought-”

“Thought what?” Aaron interrupted, the anger flaring inside him. “You think I’d be living on the streets if I had a cosy set-up with a house and parents? I’ve got no family, at least none that want anything to do with me. That answer your question?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m doing fine as I am.”

“Oh yeah, it looks it,” he replied under his breath.

Aaron's entire body tensed like a coiled spring. “What?”

Robert’s eyes shot up. “No, I didn’t mean…”

“I know exactly what you meant. I might not have a job like yours or a place to live or money, but at least I don’t go round mowing people down in the street, and I don’t see why you’re looking smug - I haven’t seen a single photo in this place of you with your family, so I’m not the only whose obviously screwed up.”

Robert clenched his jaw, now back to looking at the floor. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, you shouldn’t. And it was time I was off, anyway.”

At this, the cup Robert had been drying slipped and hit off the marble top, bouncing twice before landing with a splash in the sink. He retrieved it, checking for cracks, and then placed it on the rack to dry. “You don’t have to go right now.”

“Look, it was nice of you and everything… letting me stay and for the breakfast, but the debt’s paid, ok? You don’t owe me anything, we’re done.”

“So it’s back to the streets, then?”

Aaron gripped the edge of the table. He wasn’t going to keep having this argument. “Look, mate, we don’t all have a cushy life, right? Some of us have to do things we don’t want to do just to get by. I’m not complaining, so I don’t see why you’re getting worked up over it.”

“I just don’t see why you have to-”

“And that’s because you’ve never been there! You don’t get it, you never will. It’s not a choice, but it’s my life. I’m not asking you to like it - I’m not asking you to think anything about it! This has nothing to do with you.”

Robert shook his head, now moving from behind the counter, closing the infinite space between them. “It does, though. I hit you with my car… I have a responsibility-”

“No, you don’t,” Aaron exclaimed, now standing up. “You feel guilty and you think you should be doing something to help, but I don’t need it. I’m not a charity-case, I don’t want anything from you.”

“So you won’t let me help?”

“I just said that, didn’t I? I’m not taking anything from you.”

“No… Unless you’re giving something back, right?”

Aaron felt his heart hiccup. “What the Hell are you asking?”

Robert seemed to consider it for a moment, like he wasn’t so sure of his footing anymore, before his eyes became hard and resolute. “I can’t say I’m familiar with every detail of your life, but I know what you do. It wouldn’t take a genius to work out why you got into that guy’s car last night. And the chances are that if you’re willing to do that having just been hit by a car, then you don’t have anywhere else to go. Which is why I’m offering to help, because I know you don’t have another option.”

Aaron thought back to the night before, the desperation he’d felt, how tired and in pain he was, how much he’d just wanted to lie down and go to sleep, no matter what he’d have to do to get it. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he moved towards the door.

“Fuck you. What, were you watching me, tailing me? Wanted to know what I was getting up to, or making sure I didn’t die by the side of the road? Fine, you really want to know? I get paid for sex. And if they give me a bed for the night then it’s a jackpot for me, but they get something out of it, too. It’s a business arrangement.”

“Not like any I’ve ever seen,” Robert chipped in, and his tone was so arrogant that it made Aaron want to lunge across and punch him.

“Yeah, well, with a face like yours I doubt you need to pay for anything.”

Robert sighed. “Look, I’m not judging you. It can’t be easy, and I know you want to do things your way. You’ve probably always had to because no one else gave a shit. Believe it or not, I know how that feels.”

Aaron scoffed. “Two sides of the same coin, that’s what you think we are?”

“If you like. I just think I can help, and you’re right, I’m doing it because I feel guilty and because I’ve messed up everything I’ve ever touched, so excuse me for wanting to do something right for a change.”

He sounded genuine, not that that meant anything. People like him were always good at lying, they’d do or say whatever it took to get what they wanted. But that was the problem, he couldn’t work out what this guy actually wanted from him.

“So what exactly are you offering, then?”

Robert shifted from one foot to the other, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He looked suddenly very young and very shy.

“This flat is huge, way too big for one person. I’m rattling around here on my own - you said it yourself, it’s so fucking neat in here because there’s too much space and not enough people. There’s a spare room and I don’t see why you shouldn’t use it because no one else is.” It came out in one great rush and when he was finished, Robert almost seemed shocked by his own honesty, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Aaron’s breath hitched slightly. “You want me to live here?”

“Not permanently, obviously. But it’ll give you a chance to get back on your feet. Save up a bit, get yourself sorted. It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s way too much is what it is.”

Robert raised his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to say yes… You can think about it.”

Aaron huffed, folding his arms across his chest. It wasn’t like he didn’t realise how incredible this would be, living somewhere like this without paying for anything. He’d be insane to refuse, but there is a serious part of him considering it. Why would someone offer him something like this? What had he honestly done, apart from being hit by a car, to deserve this?

“I suppose I can think about it.”

Robert smiled triumphantly. “Good. Now can you sit down, you’re making me nervous?”

“What? Scared I’ll hit you?”

“A short-arse like you? Don’t make me laugh!”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, flicking his eyes over Robert’s lean frame. “I could take you easy.”

“Yeah, if you stood on a chair, maybe.”

“God, you’re a dick,” Aaron said but he was laughing now, the tension gone.

Robert gave him the most sinful smile and Aaron felt his stomach lurch sharply. This was a dangerous road, but God was he tempted to take it, no matter where it led…

Chapter Text

Robert glanced over the top of his Macbook and held Aaron’s gaze for a fraction of a second before returning to his screen. They’d been doing it for what felt like hours now, one of them checking on the other or both of them accidentally doing it at the same time. It was ridiculous and it was driving him slowly insane.

Somehow, they had managed to completely avoid the topic of Aaron still being here all day, and Robert couldn’t work up the courage to ask whether he’d reached a decision on staying. He’d never felt nervous in his life - he always got what he wanted one way or another, but this was different. Aaron was unpredictable, an unknown quantity, something which Robert wasn’t used to. He liked being able to read people, knowing what their agenda was, but he had no clue this time.

He scrolled through his emails for the hundredth time, eyes barely registering the words anymore, and then slammed the laptop shut.

“What do you fancy for dinner?” he asked, going over to the noticeboard where there was a cluster of takeout menus pinned in the corner.

“I don’t mind.”

“Well, there’s Italian, or Indian, or there’s a really nice Thai place-”

“I’m not fussed.”

Robert sighed and came back to sit on the sofa opposite him, elbows rested on his knees as he fixed Aaron with a questioning stare. “You don’t look too happy to be here. I’m not forcing you to stay, you know.”

Aaron flicked his eyes over him before his lips pressed into a thin line. “Itching to get rid of me, are you?”

“No, I’m trying to make an effort and you’re barely giving me answers of more than one syllable. I asked you to stay but… If you hate it here that much then-”

“I don’t,” Aaron replied, his tone exasperated. “Of course, I don’t. I’d be mad to hate living somewhere like this.”

Robert raised his head slightly, wondering if a decision had finally been reached, and without him having to press the issue too much. “Sounds like you’ve made up your mind?”

Aaron gave a sharp shrug of his shoulders, defensive, wary, and Robert felt his confidence recede again just as swiftly as it had arrived. He had an uncanny ability of doing that - making him feel assured one minute, and then doubtful the next. It was a bloody rollercoaster with him, and Robert wasn’t entirely sure he was liking the ride.

“All right, here’s the deal - you tell me your reservations about me, because you’ve obviously got some, and I’ll try and put your mind at rest.”

“What makes you think it’s about you?”

“Well, because you apparently like the flat itself so it can’t be that, and I don’t really see you loving being on the streets, so it’s not that you’d rather be there than here. Which means it has to be something to do with me. Process of elimination,” Robert explained, feeling almost smug at how easily he’d cracked Aaron’s mysterious attitude towards him. It was a relief, really, because he’d started to think he’d lost his touch.

“Right little Sherlock Holmes, ain’t you?”

Robert scowled for a second, wondering if this was how every conversation was going to go between them - him trying his best to be ‘good’ and ‘decent’ and Aaron batting back every attempt with a sarcastic comment.

“Does that make you Watson?” he finally asked, deciding two could play at that game.

“Not sure I can pull off a moustache,” Aaron retorted, but his usually stony expression was partially softened, giving Robert momentary cause for hope.

“And I’m not sure how good I’d look in a deerstalker,” he replied, feigning disgust. Aaron smiled sheepishly, thumbs rubbing against each other as he licked his lips.

“I suppose it’s just… that I don’t know you,” Aaron admitted after a hesitant pause, his gaze unfocused as his eyes swept around the room, never once landing on Robert.

“Ask away.”

“What?”

Robert leaned back in his seat, acting as casually as he could while simultaneously being scared shitless of what Aaron might ask him. He didn’t make a habit of being open with anyone, but least of all a stranger. What hope did he have of being honest with Aaron when he couldn’t even manage it with his own family?

“Ask me anything you want. You say you don’t know me, this seems as good a way as any to change that,” he explained, palms clammy as he placed them on his thighs, bracing himself for whatever was about to come.

Aaron raised an eyebrow questioningly but, despite his obvious surprise at Robert’s suggestion, he didn’t seem too hesitant to comply.

“All right,” he agreed, running a hand through his slick, gelled hair. “Well, you’ve already told me about your work, and I’m not sure I understood even that so there’s not much point me asking you more about it. So, what about where you’re from?”

It was the worst thing he could have asked, but Robert had been expecting it. It wasn’t as though Aaron was going to ask about his favourite colour or when his birthday was. Or if this was the first time he’d asked a strange guy back to his flat…

“I grew up in the countryside, in a small village just outside Hotten.”

Aaron nodded, seemingly impressed that Robert had answered him at all. “You liked it there?”

That he had not been expecting. “It was all right. Lived on a farm so we were all working from a young age.”

“You’ve got brothers and sisters?”

Damn, Robert thought, he hadn’t meant to word it like that, and now he’d walked into the exact kind of question he’d been hoping to avoid.

“I had an older brother, Jackie, but he died when I was a kid, and an older half-sister, Sadie, who lives in Scotland….” Robert paused, not wanting to go any further but feeling a strange pressure to not leave anything out.

“And then there’s my adopted brother, Andy. He works on the farm. And I’ve got a younger half-sister, as well.”

“So a big family, then?”

“We’re not close,” Robert corrected, not wanting Aaron to get the wrong impression. The last thing he wanted was anyone assuming the Sugdens were ‘tight-knit’. They were far more likely to kill each other, in fact they had tried to kill each other on more than one occasion, than they were to resemble a loving family.

His thoughts turned swiftly to Vic, who he had just about managed to forget since all this had started with Aaron. He felt an ache in his stomach, like homesickness but magnified tenfold, and it hurt more than he’d ever imagined it would. In truth, the farm meant nothing to him, other than a reminder of his dad, and the village itself was mired in similarly bad memories. But Vic? His little sister was the only thing which tethered him to his past, to his home, and he had lost her. Lost everything.

“Yeah, well, I know a lot about big families not seeing eye to eye,” Aaron said, voice low in his throat.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The answer wasn’t exactly forceful, but Robert knew not to ask anything more. It seemed a bit rich, given that Aaron had a free pass to know anything about his life, but that didn’t mean Robert was going to actively go against him. It wasn’t worth it.

“Anything else you want to know, then?” he asked, more to steer the subject away from families than because he had any real desire to continue this game of 20 questions.

Aaron shook his head. “Think I’ve got enough for now.”

“Trust me, then?”

“I wouldn’t go that far… but buy me some dinner and we could be on the right track.”

Robert smiled, a proper smile this time, not the one he used when he wanted something. “Promises, promises.”

They spent the next twenty or so minutes flicking through the various menus, deciding what they wanted, and as Aaron was writing out a list, Robert found himself logging onto his Facebook account. There was really only one reason he ever want on, to check Vic was doing ok, but this time he found himself clicking on his messages.

“You want me to order?” Aaron asked and Robert nodded, only half-listening as he started typing out a message to his sister. He could feel his heart pulsating in his throat but he pushed on, licking his lips periodically as his mouth became drier and drier.

When he was finished, he read it over twice, and then again just to make sure, and hit enter before he could process what it would mean once it was sent.

“They’re short-staffed so they’re asking if one of us can come and collect it?” Aaron interrupted Robert’s thoughts and he turned on the couch.

“Yeah, tell them that’s fine. I could do with stretching my legs anyway,” he said, though really he just wanted to be as far from his laptop as was humanly possible. He didn’t even want to imagine what she would write back with, if she messaged at all.

Aaron finished speaking on the phone and hung up, coming back to sit on the other sofa. “Sure you don’t want me to go?”

Robert looked him over, focusing on the raised lump at his hairline which he’d evidently sustained when he’d fallen against the tarmac.

“I think you’ve had enough excitement, don’t you? Just stay here and rest - maybe find us a film to watch,” he suggested instead, getting up and pulling on his leather jacket and grabbing the keys from the bowl by the front door.

“You want me to get anything else while I’m out?” he asked as he was pulling on his shoes.

“Can’t think of anything,” Aaron said, already scrolling through the TV channels, legs tucked beneath him.

Robert pulled out his phone and checked to make sure Vic hadn’t messaged him in the last 5 seconds before switching it off when he saw she hadn’t.

“See you in a bit,” he said, letting the door slide shut behind him. Maybe, just maybe, she’d have got back to him by the time he returned…

Chapter Text

Robert had only been gone ten minutes when the phone rang, making Aaron jump so badly that he dropped the remote. His gaze shot to the phone which had lit up on the counter, it’s shrill ring echoing around the flat. He bit down on his lip, heart stammering as he pushed himself to his feet and crossed the room. It was a mobile number but obviously not one that had called here before, considering there was no name attached.

He should leave it, Aaron thought, still staring at the phone. This wasn’t his flat, and they would be ringing for Robert so there wasn’t any point in him answering. But if it was work, if it was important, then surely it was better he answer and take a message? Or did Robert want to keep him living here a secret, in which case answering the phone probably wouldn’t be the best idea?

The phone gave a final ring before falling silent, and Aaron immediately regretted doing nothing. That being said, if it really had been important, they would have left a message on the answer-phone, so perhaps it hadn’t been-

He stumbled back as the phone suddenly rang again, same number, practically convulsing as it vibrated against the worktop. Aaron moved forward, hand outstretched, before licking his lips and pressing the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Oh… hi. You’re not Robert.” It was a woman’s voice, young, not who he’d expected. Not that he had any real idea of who he had been expecting.

“Um… no. He’s just popped out but he’ll be back soon. Can I take a message for him?” he asked haltingly, now wondering if this was his girlfriend checking up on him.

“Are you his PA?”

Aaron had to stifle a laugh, imagining him sat at a desk answering phones, possibly wearing glasses. It was like something from a porn scene.

“No… More like a lodger.” He realised too late that he should have kept his mouth shut. God only knew how badly he’d just screwed up.

“Robert has a lodger?” she asked, though her tone was more incredulous than angry. That was something at least.

“It’s just temporary,” Aaron assured. “Can I ask whose calling?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s Vic.”

“Vic?”

There was a pause and Aaron wondered if they’d been cut off, but the screen told him she was technically still there.

“Of course, why would I think he’d mentioned me, I’m only his sister.”

Crap. He should have realised, or at least made a guess. “Oh, no, sorry. He has talked about you. Look, I can get him to give you a ring back-”

“No, it’s fine,” she replied, voice tight and clipped. “I just wanted to tell him to stop messaging me. Think you can let him know?”

Aaron’s heart sank a little. No, that was the last thing he wanted to let Robert know. “Yeah, sure, I can do that.”

“Sorry, I didn’t ask your name?”

“Aaron.”

“Right. Well… nice speaking to you, Aaron.” He couldn’t be sure, but he almost thought he heard her voice crack slightly towards the end, as though she was fighting back tears.

“Yeah, and you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“Managed to blag us a free naan bread because of the ‘inconvenience’,” Robert said as he shut the front door, placing the takeout bags on the dining table and giving Aaron a smile. “And he gave me a 10% off voucher, as well.”

Aaron nodded, feigning interest, but all he could think about was the phone call.

“You all right?”

“Yeah…”

“You look a bit pale. Want me to get you some more painkillers?” Robert asked, shaking off his jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair. His concern just made the guilt knot tighter in Aaron’s stomach.

“You got a phone call while you were out,” he said, throat constricting. God, this was going to be difficult.

“Oh, yeah? Who was it?” Robert asked, now untying his shoelaces.

“Your sister.”

Robert’s head shot up. “Vic phoned? Here? When?”

Aaron bit his bottom lip. “Not long after you left… it wasn’t really a long conversation.”

His words registered immediately on Robert’s face, his hopeful expression suddenly falling away. “Why, what did she say?”

“She… she was ringing to say… not to contact her again. She asked me to pass the message along.” He hated saying it, seeing what it did to him. Robert looked as though he’d just been winded, his eyes glazing over and his lips parting slightly.

“Right,” he breathed, now returning his attention to Aaron. “Did she say anything else?”

He shook his head, picking at a loose thread that had come unravelled from the hem of his t-shirt. “No, it was just that. I did ask if she wanted you to ring her back but…”

“But she’d rather have her eyes gauged out by a rusty spoon, yeah, I’m getting the picture.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have answered the phone-”

“No,” Robert interrupted, shoulders sagging. “No, it was probably for the best. We’d only have ended up arguing.”

“Look, I know it’s none of my business, but… I mean, if you want to talk?”

Robert managed a smile, though it looked a lot more like a grimace. “Cheers but I’m good. And this food’s gonna get cold if we don’t tuck in. I see you got us plates - didn’t realise you were fully house-trained.”

At any other time, Aaron would have taken a comment like that as an insult, but he knew what Robert was doing. He was trying to make light of the situation, avoid getting any deeper into the family issues he was obviously having, and Aaron was more than willing to go along with it.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it, will you? This is strictly a one-off.”

“I better not take it for granted, then, eh?”

They ate their dinner in almost total silence, both pretending to be engrossed in the movie despite neither of them actually knowing what was going on. Aaron stole brief glances at Robert, wondering whether he was genuinely unfazed by what had happened with his sister or if he was just in denial. He looked fine, legs stretched out along the length of the sofa, one arm behind his head, green eyes focused on the screen. If he’d not seen the anguished look on Robert’s face when he’d told him what Vic said, he might actually have believed the act, but he had, and so he didn’t. Plus, he’d pretended not to feel anything enough times to know what it looked like on someone else. He wasn’t fooled, but that didn’t mean it was his place to help.

When the credits started rolling, Aaron hauled himself up from his seat and took the plates over to the sink, wondering if his sudden movement might stir Robert into talking. It didn’t. He stayed staring at the screen, refusing to ease the silence even a fraction.

“Thought I might take a shower if that’s all right?” he asked, though honestly the idea of prising off his clothes and the subsequent stabs of pain from his side really didn’t sound all that appealing.

Robert didn’t even seem to register him, just gestured down the corridor towards the bathroom as if to say ‘go ahead’. Aaron rolled his eyes, letting the plates clatter onto the side of the sink by way of showing his annoyance, but this again barely got a response. He stormed off, or hobbled as was actually the case, and decided he would use all the hot water by way of forcing a reaction from him. It was petty and childish, but he couldn’t think what else to do. Robert didn’t want to talk and Aaron wasn’t comfortable enough with him to push the subject.

He sat on the toilet lid, back rigid against the cistern, and periodically put his hand under the running shower to check the temperature. Tepid, but it was getting there. Aaron dried his hand on the towel, possibly one of the softest things he’d ever touched, and began to undress.

His t-shirt was the hardest part so he did it first, pulling his right arm back through the arm hole and then pulling it over his shoulder, then over his head. It wasn’t too bad, but moving any part of his left side caused a jolt of pain to wipe out his senses for a moment, blinding him. He did it in one swift movement, like ripping off a plaster, and then bit down hard on his arm to stop himself from shouting out loud. Even with the water running, there was a good chance Robert would still here, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with his stone-cold silence.

He’d just started to unzip his jeans when he heard a bang, like the sound of a door slamming, and Aaron shuffled across to the bathroom door, unlocking it and peeking his head round the gap. Silence, not that that was a surprise.

“Robert?” he called, straining his ear for any sign of movement or life. Nothing, just another infinite stretch of nothingness.

Aaron wondered whether he was at the beginning of a horror movie as he crept back along the corridor, imagining some masked villain with a machete to come out of nowhere and attack him. It was a ridiculous idea but he still paused just before he rounded onto the main part of the flat, as though a part of his brain genuinely believed it was a possibility.

Robert was gone. Or at the very least, he wasn’t sitting on the sofa anymore. And the TV had been turned off.

“Robert?” he called again, but the wall of silence remained intact and he realised it had been the front door which had slammed. He’d gone out. No explanation, not even a quick goodbye. Charming.

Aaron padded back along to the bathroom, already determined to use half a bottle of the expensive shampoo on the rack as a small act of revenge for being abandoned.

He was sat on the floor of his bedroom, the spare bedroom that was, leaning against the wall and looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window when he heard the front door click open. It was followed immediately by a rush of footsteps, so many that Aaron wondered if it was a group of people rather than just one person. But then the commotion stopped, and as he listened further he realised it had been Robert stumbling and half-falling through the door.

The painkillers he’d taken had finally kicked in and his side didn’t throb too badly when he pushed himself to his feet. He was just in his boxers and a clean t-shirt which Robert had given to him, his hair still damp from the shower, and he rubbed at his tired eyes before opening the door.

“What time do you call this?” he asked sleepily before realising that Robert had his forehead pressed against the front door, giggling like a child.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, no longer surprised by the rush of footsteps he’d heard before. Aaron was more impressed that he’d managed to get home at all.

Robert twisted round, grinning, and raised his arms out by his sides in the most dramatic shrug Aaron had ever seen. “Problem with that?” he asked, words merging together as his tongue battled for control against his drunken brain.

“Do what you like. Just keep it down, eh?” He gave a small shake of his head before turning back towards his room, deciding it was best to just leave him to it.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he heard him say, and he sounded like such an arrogant little shit that it made Aaron's jaw clench.

“Yeah? And I don’t take orders from you,” Aaron replied, refusing to turn and instead taking the last few steps towards the peace and quiet of his room.

“Heel, doggie.” The words were slurred but he could still make them out, and God did they sting.

He half-turned his head, not wanting to look him directly in the eye. “What did you just say?”

Robert was giving him a lop-sided grin, eyes swivelling for a moment as he swayed on the spot. “Have I made you angry?”

“I’d have to care to be angry, and I don’t. You’re a mess, Robert. Go to sleep.”

“Sounds like you care. Sounds like you care a lot.”

Aaron shook his head, forcing down that gnawing feeling that had been getting to him more and more today. He didn’t need to feel that right now, or ever.

“I just want you to stop making a racket, that’s all. Goodnight.”

“I’m not done!”

“Yeah? Well, I am," he shot back, now striding purposefully towards his room.

He heard the thud on the floor and turned, knowing it hadn’t been heavy enough to be Robert collapsing, but his heart still stuttering nonetheless. Instead of a drunken mess, though, Aaron found a rolled up wad of cash lying on the floor. He stared at it for a moment before the nausea set in.

“You’re not done until I say you are. Call that a down-payment… for what’s coming.”

Aaron stared, motionless, as Robert lurched forwards, his long, lean frame moving with a speed that belied his drunken state. He knew what was going to happen, knew that it wasn’t what he wanted, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t, maybe.

Robert’s fingers curled around his neck, cold from the outside chill, and firm as they dug into his skin, pulling him closer. He didn’t resist, probably wouldn’t have been able to considering his whole left side was still throbbing, but he knew that wasn’t why, not really. There was a part of him overtaken by curiosity, to remember how he tasted, how he felt against him. Their first kiss, the only kiss Aaron had imagined they’d have, was chaste and hurried. There was no focus, no desire. It had been sheer panic on his part. But this? No, this kiss was going to be something else entirely.

He only had time to gulp once, the erratic thrum of his heart suddenly slamming against his chest like a horse bolting from the gate when Robert dipped his head and forced their mouths together. His lips were wet and warm, pliant against Aaron’s as he felt his mouth open slightly, his tongue just touching the edge of Robert’s bottom teeth. He had to stop this, stop it before it went too far, but he just needed another second. One more second of being touched like this and then he would-

His lungs withered to nothing as Robert’s tongue slipped into his mouth and he pressed their body’s firmly together, his free hand now holding Aaron steady at the base of his spine. He tilted his head back a little, deepening the kiss without thinking, and almost buckled when Robert groaned against him, their lips vibrating as he did so. He had had kisses like this before, all-consuming, passionate, like a tidal wave which pulled you under without mercy. He knew what they felt like, how everything just blurred into the background, how nothing mattered except keeping it going for as long as they were able.

But somehow this was more. It was like this kiss was the only thing keeping him alive, like if he broke the connection now he’d lose himself completely. He felt his hands curling into Robert’s shirt, pulling him even closer, and felt him smile against his red and swollen lips.

“Good boy,” Robert whispered as he leaned back just a fraction, nose tracing a line across Aaron’s flushed, crimson cheek.

He was about to smile, or even laugh, when he felt Robert’s finger run along the edge of his boxers and then the crisp, glossy note he tucked into the elastic waistband. He didn’t need to look, didn’t want to know what that kiss had been worth to Robert. It was enough knowing he’d felt the need to put it there in the first place.

“You’re unbelievable,” he spat, grabbing the rumpled note and hurling it across the room where it fluttered to the floor unsatisfactorily. He wanted to chuck Robert after it but he didn’t have the strength and wasn't about to let himself be hurt again, especially by him.

“Come on, don’t sulk. I’m just showing my appreciation,” he purred, leaning in as though to kiss him again. Aaron shoved him off.

“Yeah? Well, here’s what I think of your appreciation,” he growled, and without his brain engaging, his right hand curled into a fist and swung out at Robert’s jaw. It connected, a little off where he’d been aiming, but it was enough to knock him off balance. He toppled over like an axed tree and hit his elbow off the arm of the couch before sliding onto the floor.

He seemed puzzled, like he didn’t quite understand what had just happened, before his eyes drew upwards to search Aaron’s face for an answer to a question he’d yet to ask.

“What did you do that for?”

“You deserved it, mate,” Aaron said through gritted teeth, shoving the wad of cash at Robert’s chest. “Go find someone else to buy, cause you sure as Hell don’t own me.”

He strode through to his bedroom, ignoring the muscles along his left side spasming painfully, and slammed the door behind him, wishing that was all it would take to shut Robert out of his life for good.

Chapter Text

He allowed his eyes to regain some focus before taking a long look in the mirror. Aaron’s knuckles were imprinted along his jawline, blooming violet against his pale skin. He looked a wreck - bloodshot eyes shadowed by dark circles, pale lips chapped and dry, hair unruly and slightly sticky from a substance he had no intention of identifying. He shuddered, wrapping his dressing-gown tight around him, and padded across to the bathroom, gaze briefly sliding over to Aaron’s bedroom door.

The realisation of the previous night had hit him like a stream-roller almost as soon as he had woken. First, the blurred mess of images which constructed a clearer idea of where he had gone when he had rushed from the flat. A flash bar he had taken clients to, downing several tumblers of whisky in a very short space of time, before he’d gone onto a much seedier bar where he was manhandled by a series of women he had no interest in, and then finally to a pub where many more drinks, none of which he could remember, were also consumed.

He had no recollection of getting home, though somehow he had managed it with relatively little difficulty, even if there was a bruise across his knee which he had no explanation for. That injury was nothing, however, compared to the sizeable purple mark which Aaron’s fist had left. He placed a tentative finger along the edge of his jaw and winced.

“Idiot,” he murmured, turning from the mirror and dragging himself towards the shower. Every muscle in his body ached, the exhaustion coupled with the steam from the running water making him light-headed. If he had any sense, he would go back to bed and try to sleep off the worst excesses of his drunken night. But Aaron would be up soon, and he couldn’t be here for that. He couldn’t take the glares or the cold shoulder. And if there was any kind of conversation, it would be one made entirely of raised voices and harsh words, none of which Robert would have any kind of defence for. Better, he felt, to be absent while Aaron raged, and then return once the dust had settled.

He soaped his hair with shampoo and stood beneath the powerful jet of water, dipping his head so that it created a deafening vacuum around his ears. Despite his crippling hangover, there were certain memories which he had no trouble in calling to the forefront of his mind. The tension in Aaron’s shoulders when Robert had cupped the back of his neck, the feel of his nose pressed firmly against Robert’s cheek as they deepened the kiss, the physical ache of longing in his gut which had bordered on the painful.

Even now, there was a slight quiver of something undefinable low in his belly, an ember which could be reignited if he chose to dwell too long on it. He placed a palm against the cool tiles, squeezing his eyes tight shut as the shampoo snaked down his face, and wondered if a quick wank would go anyway to dissipating the thrum of desire he couldn’t seem to shake.

The echo of Aaron’s words returned, barbed and vicious, and Robert hissed as a droplet of soapy water stung his eye. He rubbed hard until the pain diminished, but the words remained, a reminder that some things couldn’t simply be washed away.

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, drying himself quickly before shuffling back to his room. The flat was silent, thankfully, which meant Aaron was still asleep. He dressed without too much care, grabbed his phone and his keys, and crept quietly through to the living-room. There was a stack of paper and a pen by the phone and he quickly scribbled an apology on the top sheet, a poor excuse for what had happened but possibly enough to stop Aaron from trashing the place or worse. He slipped the piece of paper beneath Aaron's door and paused for one more minute, straining to hear even the smallest of movements from inside the spare bedroom which might tempt him to stay, before satisfying himself that he was still asleep.

The front door made no sound, thankfully, and Robert slipped out onto the landing, unable to stop himself glancing one last time at Aaron's room before the front door clicked shut.

He hadn’t travelled on this particular road in some time, and yet it was as though he didn’t need to think about it, his mind and body strangely in unison as he headed towards the village he had once called home.

It had not been his intention that morning to go to Emmerdale. In fact, after Vic’s phonecall, he had been resolute in his decision to respect her wishes and keep his distance. But with everything that had happened between him and Aaron, somehow the need to truly push the self-destruct button had been increased greatly. It was the urge to confirm what he already knew, deep down, that no matter how hard he tried or how good he thought he was being, it would never be enough, and he would always mess it up in the end. And who better to tell him that than the one person he cared for more than anything else, the one person who never wanted to speak to him again?

The sign appeared over the crest of the hill, pointing towards the cluster of houses he could now just make out in the distance. His lips tugged into a reluctant smile, unable to stop himself from feeling the spark of hope which flickered inside his chest. He pressed his foot firmly against the accelerator, impatient despite his nerves, and sped along the winding country roads.

His hands gripped the steering-wheel tighter as he saw the turning point, knuckles white as he shifted gears and turned into the village. It was quiet, almost as though they’d known he was coming and decided to avoid him. It was better than pitchforks, he supposed, slowing the car as he reached the cottage his sister now lived in. Would she open the door to him? And if so, would it just be to slap him across the face before slamming it shut again?

Chances were, that’s exactly what she’d do, but he hadn’t driven all the way here just to bottle it now. He needed to see her, even if it was only for a second. He just needed to know he had no more chances left.

A wave of nausea overtook his desire to exit the car and he rested his head against the wheel, letting out a shaky breath as he tried to focus on not passing out or vomiting. It was just the hangover, he told himself, he’d be fine in a minute. Except it wasn’t, and he wouldn’t. Even without his bender the night before, he’d still be feeling like an anvil had just landed on his chest. He couldn’t even say it was fear of seeing Vic again, or running into Andy or Katie. No, there was only one emotion weighing down his shoulders as he pushed open the driver’s door, and that was shame.

A frozen wind whipped around him as he pushed open the gate and wrapped his knuckles twice on the door. He could have used his key, but that would have likely meant leaving in an ambulance, and he didn’t fancy that much.

He heard the shuffle of footsteps in the hallway and then the door opened, revealing his sister wrapped in a dressing-gown, her hair hidden inside a towel-turban.

“Hey.” He’d wanted to seem friendly, casual, but his voice sounded strangled and more high-pitched than normal. Not the best of starts.

Vic seemed too stunned to say anything, just standing with her mouth gaping open, shoulder leaning against the doorframe.

“Not gonna invite me in, then?” he joked before realising quickly that humour was the wrong tact.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” she snapped, the shock having obviously worn off.

Robert shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “Apparently you phoned. I wanted a chance to talk to you.”

Vic shook her head, seemingly unable to get her head around Robert’s logic. “Yeah, I did. And do you know why I phoned?”

Robert replayed the conversation with Aaron in his mind before cutting it short. He didn’t want to think about Aaron right now. He needed to focus on one mistake at a time.

“To say you didn’t want me messaging you again,” he replied reluctantly, the pit in his stomach yawning wide and hollow.

She nodded, her turban bobbing above her head distractingly. “Exactly! So why are you here?”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t message you. I came in person, which you never said I couldn’t do.”

It was the wrong thing to say, he could tell that just by her reaction. Her eyes went wide, her nostrils flared, and she wrapped her fingers round the door handle, evidently getting ready to slam it in his face.

“God, Robert, you knew what I meant! Stop being so… so…”

“So what?” he interrupted, deciding that if she wasn’t going to listen to him, he might as well push the conversation as far as it would go without getting hit in the process.

“So… you! Always finding a loophole, always managing to avoid the blame, never just accepting what other people want.”

It all sounded very familiar to him, this list of flaws which had been a definite contributing factor in his downfall. He sighed, realising he needed to change his attitude if he was to be in with a shot of making amends.

He softened his voice, letting his head dip down so as not to meet her glare head on. “Look, Vic, I know full well you don’t want to see me. And I know that the best thing I could do for you, and everyone else, would be to stay as far away from the village as possible.”

He saw her shoulders fall a little, less tense than before. “Well, if you know that then why you did you come?”

“Because we’re family,” he said immediately, and meant it.

“What, and family means no one gets left behind? You going to quote some more Disney for me?”

“Vic, do you honestly thing I could quote any Disney?” he asked, and she gave the smallest of smiles. He was still able to do that, at least, and the thought made his heart tug a little. “I miss you, and I hate how I left things with you. That’s why I messaged, because I couldn’t take not talking to you.”

“You’ve said all this before,” she muttered, but there was a reluctance to the words, as though she wasn’t sure she even wanted to be saying them. He felt himself hoping now, hoping for something close to what they had had before, something that wasn’t just sat him in his flat, alone, with no one and nothing to get up in the morning for. Something like home.

“And I meant it then as well. I regret everything that happened, and I’m sure nothing I say or do will make up for it. But you can’t fault me for trying, right?”

Vic crossed her arms over her chest, full lips pouting as she considered his speech. He waited, wondering if a slap was still possible at this stage, and pleaded with whoever was listening that she would give him another shot. Vic gave him one last look, a warning of some kind he thought, before stepping to one side and gesturing towards the hallway.

“Well, you better come in, then.”

He grinned, not hiding his relief in the slightest, and quickly pushed through the narrow doorframe and into the hallway. He gave a silent thank you to whoever had listened to his prayer before turning to face his sister.

“So…”

“Just before you start that sentence, I have a couple of rules you need to agree to. First, you don’t ask me about anyone in the village, and you know who I’m talking about. We’ll talk about you, and we can talk about me, but everyone else is off limits.”

“Deal,” Robert replied instantly, having no intention of talking about Andy or Katie anyway. He would happily never speak or see them again if it meant he got a quiet life.

“Good. Second, Adam’s only gone up to help Moira at the farm but he won't be long... and I don’t want him seeing you, so this conversation is going to have to be short and sweet.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Don’t sulk, Robert. You turned up out of the blue, it’s not my fault you’re not getting a warm welcome. And anyway, at the moment, there’s only one thing I really want to know.”

He furrowed his brows. “And what’s that?”

“Who's Aaron?”

Should he have guessed that was coming? Should it really have blind-sided him so much that he actually took a physical step backwards? Maybe not. Vic had always been nosy, always prying into his life even when he expressly asked her not to. Why should now be any different?

“He’s a friend. I’m just helping him out,” he said, but his tone was defensive and he knew he had just raised her interests rather than subdued them.

“Tetchy, much? I’m only asking because it’s not exactly like you to be the good samaritan.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Vic. Really appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“It wasn’t a dig, just stating a fact. You don’t tend to go out on a limb for anyone.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”

At this, she gave a soft snort. “Robert, you’ve turned over enough new leaves to supply an entire forest.”

“Ok, did I miss the memo or something? Is this ‘kick-Robert-while-he’s-down’ day?”

“No, although it has a nice ring to it,” Vic joked, giving him a nudge with her elbow which he couldn’t help but smile at. “Just want to make sure you’re on the right track.”

He wasn’t anywhere close to being on the right track, not sure he ever had been. He wasn’t sure he even knew what ‘the right track’ looked like.

“I am,” he lied, and then decided to tell her the truth, considering she usually found out anyway. “Or I’m getting there. Although I think I have an apology to make when I get home.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he said, but it came out too quickly to be believed, not that Vic probably trusted him anyway.

“Must have been something if you need to say you’re sorry.”

He shrugged, remembering again the note he had pulled from his wallet and stuffed down Aaron’s boxers. The look on his face, the betrayal and the hurt, still sent a sliver of ice right through his heart.

“I was an idiot, as per. I’ll sort it.”

“You’re welcome to use the phone, if you want to ring him.”

“So you can eavesdrop, you mean?”

“You know me too well.”

No, I don’t, and that’s my fault as well, he thought sadly, but took the phone she offered all the same, if for no other reason than so he could stay a bit longer.

He dialled his home number, hoping Aaron wasn’t going to hang up immediately once he heard Robert’s voice. He sat down on the arm of the sofa as he heard it give the first ring, watching as Vic busied herself in the kitchen, pretending not to be listening intently.

He heard the click as someone pressed the answer button and his breath hitched slightly in his throat.

“Aaron?”

There was an unbearable pause, before he heard Aaron exhale sharply. “Oh. Hey. Wasn’t sure whether I should pick up, considering what happened last time.”

He smiled despite himself, noting that his voice didn’t sound too aggressive. “No, I’m glad you did. Did you get my note?”

“I did, yeah.” Sharper now, but he hadn’t hung up. There was still hope.

“And?”

“And… you’ve got very nice hand-writing, Robert. What exactly do you want me to say?”

He was losing before he’d even come up with a game plan. Robert rubbed at his temple, his hangover doing nothing for his usually functioning brain. “I just hoped it might go some way-”

“You upped and left the first chance you got this morning so you wouldn’t have to face me. So, no, it doesn’t.” It wasn’t anger, he thought. His voice was too soft, too low for it to be anger. No, this was hurt. Aaron was upset with him.

“It had nothing to do with that, I was just giving you some space. I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“Well, you’re right about that. Look, I think it would just be easier if I left. I’m better off on my own, and it seems like you're the same.”

“No, don’t,” he blurted out, unable to stop himself. He didn’t want to be alone again. “Aaron, come on, I’m sorry for last night. What I said… what I did. Can we just draw a line under it all?”

He was keenly aware of Vic now hiding just behind the door and he felt his back grow rigid. He didn’t want her to hear this. Didn’t want her involved.

“So you’re not going to be chucking money at me again?” He didn’t sound playful exactly, but there was a lightness to his voice now which made Robert relax a little.

“No. That was a mistake.”

“And you’re not gonna be sticking your tongue down my throat, either, I take it?”

Robert’s mind immediately flashed an image of Aaron’s ocean-blue eyes staring up at him, lips pink and full and oh-so-kissable…

“No, I promise. I was drunk.”

“Fine. So what time will you be back, then?”

“Why? You gonna make sure you’re not in?” he asked, sensing that this joke at least would be taken well.

“No, just wondered if you’d be back around tea time because I was thinking of ordering in pizza and I’d need to know what you liked?”

Robert’s heart clenched painfully and he bit the inside of his cheek. It had been a long time since anyone had cared enough to wait for him before they had dinner, or bothered to ask him something as trivial as what his favourite pizza toppings were. It shouldn’t have meant anything to him, but it did. God, it did.

“Hawaiian.”

“How did I know you were going to say that.”

“You got a problem with ham and pineapple?”

He heard Aaron scoff on the other end of the line. “Fruit doesn’t belong on a pizza, mate. You need your head testing.”

Robert smiled, feeling his chest grow a little warmer. “You just need to broaden your mind, it’s the perfect blend of sweet and salty.”

“I’ll order it, but you’re not sitting anywhere near me when you eat it.”

“Charming,” he replied, all tension now gone from his shoulders. “I've got to put in a couple of hours at the office, so chances are I'll be back for about five.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Give me a bell when you’re almost back and I’ll get them ordered.”

“Great. See you then.”

“Ok. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He hung up and cleared his throat, waiting for Vic to show herself. She popped her head round the door and smiled at him.

“All sorted?” she asked, her towel slightly unravelling at the top.

“Yeah. Well, he’s getting me pizza, so he must have forgiven me a bit.”

She smiled. “I’m glad. Just don’t screw it up, ok? With your history… well, every friend counts.”

He knew what she meant - every relationship he had ever had had been soured and destroyed because of him, and the chances were, him and Aaron would go exactly the same way. But maybe this time it wouldn’t. Maybe this time he would actually learn.

“Right, I better get off, if you don’t want hubby bumping into me.”

Vic gave him another warning look and he quickly backed out into the hallway, fishing for his car keys.

“I’ll call you. Maybe I can come round to yours next time? Meet this Aaron.”

Robert thought about his two worlds crashing together and hid a shudder. “Or we can go for coffee,” he suggested, now opening his car door.

She nodded, looking unconvinced, and he slipped back inside his car, giving her one last wave before roaring the engine to life and speeding off back down the road, back towards Aaron.

Chapter Text

The clock on the bedside table flashed 11:00, and Aaron groaned, realising he had seriously slept in. Not that he had anywhere to be, but he never usually slept passed eight, and that was on a good day. His muscles ached from having being lying in one position too long and he stretched, toes curling as he sank lower under the covers, enjoying the feeling of his bones re-aligning.

The light poured in through the paper-thin curtains and he pushed himself off the bed, surprised by how little his side hurt. Robert had been shoving painkillers at him yesterday and the day before, had barely let him move, and despite how much Aaron had grumbled, he could now see the benefits.

Yesterday night returned with sharp clarity as he thought of Robert, remembering the feeling of having money shoved into his boxers, the hungry, triumphant look in his eyes that said “I’m getting what I paid for”. It made his blood spit and fizzle beneath his skin, the vein in his neck jolting as it ran up and under his jaw. He stood a moment in his room, this room that wasn’t his but still somehow felt comfortable, and waited to hear the familiar bang of Robert working the coffee-machine with it’s knobs and buttons that not even the manual seemed to know how to work.

It was silent. The whole flat seemed to be holding its breath along with Aaron, both of them straining to trace Robert’s movements. Eventually, he grew impatient and crossed towards the door, only pausing when he felt his foot step on something that wasn’t carpet.

A piece of paper.

It shouldn’t have made his stomach somersault, and yet as he reached down to pick it up, he felt his skin prickle with dread. Was this going to be some kind of eviction notice? You didn’t put out for him, so now he’s done doing you any favours, Aaron thought as he unfolded it.

Robert’s handwriting was neat, neater than his at any rate, and he almost rolled his eyes at the sight of Robert’s signature at the bottom. How very business-like.

Aaron,

Had to leave early for business. Not sure what to say about last night except sorry. Me and alcohol don’t mix. Can we forget about it?

It was short and to the point, very like what he imagined Robert would say, but it just didn’t cut it for him. Whatever he’d been thinking, even if he was completely wasted, it didn’t justify it. Not in the slightest. He felt the thread of anger pulsating again, its rhythm jagged and broken, stuttering and sparking like hot coals.

Can we forget about it?

Aaron screwed the letter into a ball in his fist, yanking open the door, ready to do battle with him even though he knew he wasn’t there.

Can we forget about it?

He chucked the scrunched up paper across the room but it wasn’t enough. He needed to shout, needed to kick something, punch someone. His jaw locked painfully, teeth grinding down hard on each other as his eyes searched the room for something, anything he could hit.

Can we forget about it?

“No,” Aaron hissed, now heading down the corridor. “No, Robert, we can’t.”

He didn’t even hesitate, entering Robert’s room and exhaling slowly as the door slammed off the wall with a satisfying bang. It was a start. But he needed more. Needed to know that this wasn’t over, that he wasn’t going to just take it lying down. That no one got to treat him like he was only worth as much as they’d pay for him. He wasn’t a fucking jukebox, only good for one song before someone else came along to have a go. There was no way he wasn’t going to get back at him.

Robert’s room was freakishly neat. Bed turned down, pillows straightened, shelves stacked with books and ornaments all arranged precisely. Aaron almost smiled, imagining how angry Robert would be if he moved even one thing out of place. He ran his finger along the bottom shelf, realising with shocked amusement that the books had been sorted in alphabetical order.

Freak, he thought, grinning now. Yes, he could have fun in here. Really mess with his head. Properly go to town. It wouldn’t be anything close to what Robert had done to him, but that wasn’t even why he was doing this. It was pure catharsis, a way of letting out some of the anger inside.

Still, despite the rage which shook inside him, rattling against his ribs like a bird desperate to take flight, he found himself pacing round the room, unable to reach any kind of decision. He wanted to hurt Robert, wanted to lash out, make him realise he wasn’t going to be the one in control, but there was this terrible, gnawing feeling digging deep into his gut which refused to let him do this, be this.

His conscience warred with itself, battling fiercely as he walked backwards and forwards, eyes scanning the bedroom for some kind of sign that he should do it.

He’s hurt you, he deserves to be hurt back.

But he was drunk, and upset about his sister, and maybe you were asking for it…

His feet slowed, hand planted on the door handle to steady himself. He knew where that train of thought would lead to, where it had gone so many times before. He didn’t need to think like that right now, didn’t need to have it rise inside him like a tidal wave, consuming everything else in one, great rush of self-loathing.

He hadn’t asked for any of this, hadn’t wanted to be hit by a car and taken in by a stranger. He wasn’t a stray dog, to be fed treats one minute and kicked in the stomach the next. His only mistake was trusting someone else, opening himself up even a fraction to more pain.

But with his anger receding already, Aaron also knew that destroying Robert’s room would barely scratch the surface of the pain he wanted to inflict. Better to push it down, like he always did, and ignore it. He stood in the doorway, now unsure about what to do, and found his eyes drifting towards the wardrobe doors, then to the chest of drawers by the window. A spark of a question ignited in his mind and he chewed on his lower lip, wondering whether it was wise.

Fuck it, he thought, moving towards the closet and opening it wide, he shouldn’t have left me here on my own if he didn’t want me to go snooping. It was an incredibly boring wardrobe, not that he’d exactly been imagining a skeleton falling out from between the row of ironed shirts and suit jackets. Again, everything was in its proper place, even down to colour-matching which Aaron just thought was sad. He flicked through the hangers, eyebrow raised questioningly at some of the more outlandish printed shirts nearer the back. The shelf above was solely devoted to accessories - gloves, hats, scarves, a briefcase and a laptop bag. Neither offered him anything more rewarding than a pile of paperwork he had no clue how to decipher and a thick notepad with even more boring and indecipherable jottings written inside.

God, Robert, could you not have just one hilariously embarrassing thing for me to find? He pushed the doors shut again and headed over to the drawers, hoping that beneath the stacks of boxers and jeans there would be something worth his time. Except there wasn’t. More ironed clothes, all neatly folded into place, some more frightening paisley patterns which Aaron immediately turned away from. It wasn’t as though he could compare it to his own room, considering he hadn’t had a proper bedroom since he was a teenager, but even he would likely have had something cringe-worthy hidden somewhere.

He turned, eyes practically drilling into the cream carpet as he thought about some other secret hiding place which might allow him to uncover all Robert’s dirty secrets. The book-shelves? No, that was too visible. A secret compartment under the floor? No, he wasn’t James Bond. Under the bed?

He knelt down, being careful not to make any sudden movements in case his side began to hurt again, and sank lower to peak under the bed. A row of shoes, a suitcase and… a box.

Gotcha, he thought triumphantly, grabbing at the box and hauling it out into the light. It looked a bit like a shoebox, very tattered and dusty, and there was a sticky note on the top which said ‘Robert’s things’ in looped hand-writing. He knelt on the carpet, the box squished between his thighs, and prised off the lid.

Photos. That was the first thing he saw - two framed photographs hidden beneath a thick layer of dust. He pulled the first one out, it’s wooden frame solid in his hand, and wiped the sleeve of his top over the glass to see the picture more clearly.

It was Robert, younger perhaps but not by much, towering above a girl who was tucked beneath his arm. She was younger than him, early twenties at most, and they were smiling. Really smiling. The kind of smile which almost made Aaron want to do the same. They were standing outside a stone cottage and the girl had a set of keys in her hand, her other arm wrapped around Robert’s waist. He turned the frame round and pulled off the back swiftly, glad to see someone had written the names on the back of the photograph.

Robert and Victoria outside Keeper’s Cottage.

His sister, then. That made sense. They looked similar, the same bright smile. And they looked so close, much closer than Aaron had imagined considering the phone call he’d had with her the day before. Robert must have really fucked up to have gone from being so happy to… well…

Aaron put the frame back in the box and took out the other photograph, wiping the dust away again. This time it wasn’t so easy to spot Robert amongst the faces in the group. It was a family photo - Mum, Dad, and three children all ranging in ages. It was a much older photograph, but it didn’t take him too long to work out which boy was Robert - his blonde hair stark against the darker haired boy. He wondered why Robert didn’t look so happy in this photo, despite the rest of the family seeming to have genuine smiles. His expression was forced, not happy but trying to be. The hairs on Aaron’s neck lifted a little but he shook whatever feeling he had away, putting the other photo back in the box and rummaging through the rest of the odds and ends.

There wasn’t anything else which held Aaron’s attention - some legal documents, a couple of things from school, a little toy tractor with one wheel cracked off. There were some more photos, these ones not in frames and none which included Robert, and at the very bottom, a letter.

He only skimmed over it, never letting himself read too closely. This wasn’t his place, he knew that, not even if he wanted to hurt Robert. This letter was private, from a mother to her son, and judging by the crinkled edge and worn down patches, it was something Robert had read time and time again.

Aaron put everything back in carefully, remembering the order so it wouldn’t be too obvious he’d been rifling through his things. He was just about to put the lid back on when his gaze focused in on the picture of Robert and his sister again, remembering the words written on the back.

Robert and Victoria outside Keeper’s Cottage.

His heart skipped a beat, the name of the house reverberating in his mind. Keeper’s Cottage. There must be thousands of houses with that name, it was just a coincidence. But now he was remembering the day before, when he’d asked Robert where he was from.

“I grew up in the countryside, in a small village just outside Hotten.”

Just outside Hotten. There were other villages. He knew that. Plenty of places Robert could have grown up. But things were now stacking up, and Aaron felt his chest press inwards. He hadn’t been in Emmerdale since he was a child - visited on the odd occasion to see his Mum when she’d been bothered enough to feign interest in him. He’d even thought of going back there once he was kicked out by his Dad, but then he’d got in with the McFarlane’s and no one walked away from them.

But it had been years since he’d been near the place. His connection to that village was long broken, his Mum probably didn’t even live there anymore.

And yet… the coincidence was staggering. Had he really managed to bump into the one person with a similar connection to the village? How was it even possible that he and Robert didn’t already know each other? How could it be such a small world that something like this could even happen?

Aaron gulped down the trepidation forming a lump in his throat, unsure why he suddenly felt so afraid, so riddled with nerves. It didn’t matter, really. Robert possibly grew up in the same village as the rest of his family. Big deal. It shouldn’t have made any difference. Neither of them lived there anymore. Robert obviously had no intention of ever going back, and neither did Aaron. Why was it having such an effect on him?

But it was, and he couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was having someone so close to the home he had never truly known. Perhaps it was the thought that somehow, what he did and how he lived his life would get back to his family.

Aaron didn’t have an answer, didn’t want to answer those sorts of questions. He wanted to pretend he’d never made the connection, never gone digging in the first place. But he had and now he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how close his past and his present were of merging together. How dangerous that could be-

He heard the phone ring from the kitchen and slammed the lid down onto the box, terrified that somehow Robert would sense what he’d been doing. He pushed it back underneath the bed and scrambled to his feet, ignoring the throb of pain he felt in his abdomen as he raced through to the kitchen.

The phone was vibrating on the table, screen flashing ‘Robert (Mobile)’ as it shook.

Speak of the Devil, Aaron thought before taking a deep breath and placing the phone to his ear.

Chapter Text

Robert had never felt more ridiculous in his entire life, walking the last remaining steps from the lift to his apartment door, a bunch of flowers hidden behind his back. It had been an impulse decision after he had left the office - his visit with his sister had put him in a good mood and he’d made an impressive sale which had been noticed by one of the partners. So when he’d walked passed a florist on his way to the car park, he’d stopped in and picked the least feminine looking flowers he could find. The girl behind the counter had congratulated him on being such a good boyfriend, saying that his girlfriend would be very impressed, and Robert had smiled at her, deciding it was easier just to go along with it.

But now that he was outside his flat, the idea of presenting Aaron with flowers seemed so absurd he was almost tempted to drop them from the landing and watch as they hurtled towards the ground floor, ricocheting off each set of stairs, petals fluttering everywhere. Chances were, they’d probably be welcomed a lot more by the marble floor than they would by the stony-faced man inside.

He frowned, ignoring the nerves gripping his stomach in an iron fist and pushed on the door handle, letting it swing open in front of him.

Aaron was sat on one of the stools by the counter, fingers drumming against the granite worktop. When Robert entered, he gave him a small smile which said he’d at least been forgiven a little since last night.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Robert returned, the flowers now feeling much heavier than before. This was a terrible idea.

“You all right?”

Robert nodded, wanting to bolt for the door. What had he been thinking? “Just wasn’t sure if I was gonna have a plate thrown at me when I got in.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I thought about it,” he said, but there was a lightness to his voice which made Robert sigh with relief.

“I know. I was a dick, which is why… I got you these.” He brought his other hand round to reveal the bunch of yellow tulips he’d been hiding, and relished the few seconds of pure confusion on Aaron’s face before his eyes met Robert’s.

“And what are they?” he asked, and Robert could almost see his poor brain working overtime to try and figure out what this could mean.

He gave a smirk. “What, never seen flowers before?”

“I’ve seen them, just not sure what I’d want with them,” he replied, brows still furrowed in confusion.

Robert brushed off the comment with a shrug. “Call them a peace offering. I thought you’d like them.”

“Do I look like the sort of person who likes flowers?”

Robert chewed on the inside of his cheek before flashing Aaron a grin. “Are you gonna deck me if I say yes?”

Aaron rolled his eyes again, a trademark move he was beginning to realise, but there was no tension in his jaw so Robert assumed it was all right. He crossed over to the sink, taking an empty, glass vase from the table and filling it halfway before arranging the flowers inside. They’d be a good reminder for him to stop being such a prat, even if they didn’t cheer Aaron up.

“So, what did you get up to while I was out?”

Aaron pulled the sleeves of his jumper over his hands. “Not much. Watched telly, went into town for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah," he said, more forcefully than before. "Or am I not allowed out?” There was an edge to his voice which made Robert wince.

“You can go wherever you want, I was just asking.”

Aaron seemed to realise he’d overreacted and sighed. “What about you? You said you were working?”

Robert brightened at this, remembering how good today had been. “Yeah, managed to wangle a major investment sale for the company.”

“Thought you looked happy.”

Robert glanced up at him and smiled. “Well, actually, that has more do with seeing Vic than anything else.”

Aaron’s expression changed, not that Robert could read it any easier. “Oh, yeah? Whereabouts does she stay again?”

“Same village we grew up in. Never saw anywhere else being home for her.”

“And you did?” Aaron immediately asked, sending Robert a little off-balance. He hadn’t expected this conversation to get so personal.

“Can’t say it was much of a choice,” he replied, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice but failing miserably. Aaron was staring at him now, looking as they he was trying to pick apart every word Robert had said, and he took the vase across to the dining table just so he could turn his back to Aaron.

“You’ve never really said… about your family.”

“Don’t.” Robert had his hands on the table, eyes closed as he begged Aaron silently to drop it. He might be on better terms with Vic than he had been before, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly open to sharing every detail of his messed-up family. This just wasn’t a subject he had any intention of discussing.

“I won’t push, I just thought I should ask. You’ve never talked about it.”

“For good reason. Leave it, Aaron, seriously.”

There was a tense silence and Robert turned to see Aaron’s lips pressed together as though forcing himself not to speak. And the worst part was, Robert wanted him to ask again. If he pushed, questioned relentlessly, Robert would give in and blurt it all out. But maybe that was the problem. It wasn’t the fear of someone else knowing that stopped him, but more the fear he wouldn’t be able to stop talking once he started.

“Sorry, I just…”

“No, don’t worry about it. None of my business, I get it.”

He hated how quickly they had fallen back into this strained silence, but couldn’t think of a way out of it. He wanted to talk to Aaron, to explain why it was so hard to speak about his family without feeling the need to smash his fist into a wall, but he couldn’t. No one understood the things he’d been through, how much it hurt, even now, remembering how worthless he’d felt, how alone he’d been. He just didn’t want to relive it.

A timer rang out across the kitchen, making Robert jump, and Aaron hopped from his stool, grabbing a pair of oven gloves and opening the oven door.

“Thought you were ordering pizza?” he asked, now leaning against the counter and watching Aaron pull out one of the metal shelves.

“I was, but apparently it’s shut for renovation or something and there was stuff in your fridge so…” He paused, lifting out the glass dish, steam unfurling from the bubbling mash.

“What is it?”

“Shepherd’s pie. Not much of a cook, though, so don’t expect any of that fancy stuff you’re used to,” Aaron warned, setting the hot dish down on the table. Robert could smell it from where he was standing next to the sink, and was instantly taken back to his childhood, sat round the table with his siblings, his mum spooning dinner onto each plate while his dad hauled off his work overalls. A slight dizziness overtook him and he blinked rapidly, praying he wasn’t about to hit the deck.

“You alright?”

It was as if he was underwater, Aaron’s words merging and rippling inside his head. He felt himself moving until his hand found the back of the chair and he sat down, nodding, but unable to say anything.

“Robert?”

He couldn’t stop staring at the dish. His Dad’s voice was in his head, reprimanding him for tucking into his dinner before his brother and sister were ready. God, he had hated him. Hated the look in his eye when he caught sight of Robert, hated how he smiled lovingly at Andy and Vic a second later. He was always last, always bottom of the pile.

“Rob?”

Aaron was in front of him, crouched down by his legs with a hand on his arm. He could feel the tears there, low enough down that they weren’t an immediate threat, but there was still the possibility of being engulfed by them. He breathed sharply through his nose, wanting to stop the memories returning, and the feeling of guilt and shame that always resurfaced along with them.

He felt Aaron’s hand slide up to his shoulder, then round the back of his neck, and now his chest was shuddering, each breath catching like wool on barbed wire. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t show this side of himself. The broken, dishevelled, vulnerable side of him which was only ever there when he thought of his Dad.

He told himself this was just the result of being back in the village, that seeing his sister after everything had made him emotional, that he was fine. But he could still hear his dad’s spiteful comments, feel him glaring like some apparition determined to torment him from beyond the grave. Maybe he was going insane.

“Talk to me.” Aaron’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough. The last push he needed before the dam burst. Robert leaned forwards, the first tear rolling steadily down his cheek, and dipped his head until he felt the soft, bare skin of Aaron’s neck against his nose.

Aaron’s arms immediately encircled him, pulling him forwards until their chests were flush against each other’s. He felt strong, muscular, but with a softness of touch which had Robert sinking lower against him. He felt Aaron’s fingers lightly stroking the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, not saying anything but not needing to either. It was enough having him here, having him this close. It was the first time he’d felt safe in years.

Robert buried his face against Aaron’s jumper, breathing in his smell as his heart calmed. He didn’t want to talk about this, about the man whose shadow loomed so large above him, reminding him of what a disappointment he was. But he could feel Aaron pulling back, and he knew the question was coming.

“You gonna tell me what’s happened?”

Robert dried his eyes with the heel of his palm and turned his face away. “You don’t want to hear it,” he replied, hoping it might be enough to avoid this conversation going any further.

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know,” Aaron said, his smile so gentle that it made Robert bite down hard on the inside of his cheek. He had never known how to explain, how to form the words into anything that actually made sense. But Aaron was looking at him with such patient eyes that he found his tongue almost curling in desperation to speak.

“You know how every family has the failure, the person who doesn’t make the cut?” he began, not wanting to jump straight into his dad and everything that went with it.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by the strangeness of the question. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Robert sniffed, refusing to let another tear fall. “Well, that was me. To my dad, I was the failure, the one who just didn’t live up to his expectations. Andy was the golden boy, the one who wanted to run the farm and marry the village girl and just… he clicked with dad. They got on, like a father and son should.”

The pain he felt was riddled with bitterness and jealousy, a rusty blade wedged deep into his back and digging deeper and deeper as he spoke. They had looked like father and son as well, both strong, both dark haired, both with ruddy cheeks from being outdoors all day. Not like Robert, with his pale skin and lanky frame and a blonde mop of hair. He had never fitted in.

“And Vic… I love my sister, I do, but she was a princess to him. Could do no wrong, just like Andy. The two of them were his children, and I was just… well, sometimes I wondered if I was the one who was adopted.”

“That must have been tough… growing up thinking that.”

It was strange, but even that small confirmation made Robert’s heart swell violently. No one had ever acknowledged his feelings before, never listened to him like this. Everyone he’d ever tried to talk to about his dad already knew the Sugden family, and knew how much of a troublemaker Robert was, so no one had ever taken his side. But Aaron was different, for so many reasons Robert was beginning to realise, but for this especially.

“Yeah, and he treated me differently,” Robert continued, encouraged by Aaron’s thumb gently stroking his knee. “I wasn’t interested in the farm like Andy. I tried, but he had the knack for it and I just didn’t get it. Dad gave up with me, and eventually he stopped trying with everything else as well. He looked out for Andy and Vic, asked how they were doing, wanted to know what was going on in their lives… With me, he just assumed I was up to something.”

“Is that why you left, then? Because you couldn’t be around him any longer?”

Robert suddenly realised he’d never mentioned the fact his dad was dead, or how he had never had the chance to say goodbye.

“No… No, leaving… it’s complicated. There was a car accident and he blamed me for it, even though Andy was there, too. He told me to leave, said it was for the best, so I drove off and didn’t come back… and then I found out he’d died.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realise.”

“It’s fine. I don’t usually talk about it. I never talk about it, actually. Not sure why I’m even telling you, to be honest. It’s not like it changes anything.”

“Sometimes it’s good, though. Letting it out. Otherwise it just…”

“Festers,” Robert finished, and the two regarded each other for a moment, realising they were more similar than they had thought.

“And your mum?”

This was sliding into an area Robert never wanted to relive, and yet the desperation to keep going was almost tangible, a physical force pushing at his back, shoving him onwards.

“My mum…” He stopped, throat constricting painfully, the echo of her laugh reverberating around him. “She was the best thing to ever happen to me. Always there, always ready to listen, took my side as well, which I wasn’t exactly used to.”

“She sounds great.”

Robert felt himself slipping, the memories so clear now that it was almost as though the flat, Aaron, everything had evaporated like mist.

“Yeah, she was. I remember when her and dad were going through a rough patch - she had an affair, not that he was a saint either, mind. She left him, took Vic with her, and all I wanted was to go, too, but dad wouldn’t let me. Refused to let me see her, even though she was the only one who gave a damn about me.”

Aaron didn’t say anything this time, but his blue eyes were fixed completely on Robert, as if everything else has disappeared for him. It was reassuring and Robert felt his shoulders relax a little, despite knowing what he was about to say next.

“I was fourteen when she died. Her and dad had patched things up, but it was still rocky. The farm wasn’t doing well, lots of debts and no way to pay them… There was a fire… the barn went up in flames and… and she got caught in it.”

He felt the anger building, remembering Andy’s panicked face, how he’d pleaded with Robert to forgive him, promising that it was an accident. Even after all this time, he’d never managed to get over it. It hadn’t been an accident, not to Robert. It had been murder.

Aaron’s hand was back on his arm and Robert sighed, rubbing his throbbing temple. “Sorry, you don’t want to hear any of this.”

“Course I do, as long as you want me to.”

Robert glanced up, doubting the sincerity in Aaron’s voice but finding his expression to be genuine. It was hard to imagine anyone, let alone this stranger who barely knew him, being so understanding, and his first reaction was to recoil from it, refusing to believe.

“Do you mind if I leave dinner for later? Not sure I’m all that hungry right now.”

They both glanced towards the cooling shepherd’s pie. “Yeah. We could watch some tv first, and I can heat it up when we’re ready?”

Robert nodded, and pushed himself off the seat, following Aaron who was moving towards the sofa. They sat side-by-side, shoulders brushing together as Aaron grabbed the remote from the coffee table and flicked through the channels. He liked having someone next to him, someone he could relax against, not having to worry about what they thought. He pulled off his jacket, chucking it onto the sofa opposite, and leaned back, letting his knee gently knock against Aaron’s, a physical reassurance that he was close enough to touch.

He felt Aaron’s gaze periodically shift towards him, caught his eye every once in a while before turning back towards the screen. It wasn’t until Aaron got up, an hour or so later, to go and heat the dish that he realised their hands had been almost touching. He didn’t dwell too long on how much he missed the feeling of warmth against his fingers, or how his hand almost twitched when Aaron sat back down again, desperate to be held.

Chapter Text

“What’s all this, then?” Aaron asked sleepily, shuffling towards the kitchen counter where a variety of breakfast food had been laid out, along with a steaming cup of coffee which made his stomach growl with longing.

Robert, blonde hair ruffled and wearing just his sweatpants, smiled into his own mug and shrugged, padding across to the tv.

“I’m a good host, what can I say?” he replied, and there was something in his voice which made Aaron smile despite himself, his cheeks flushing warm which he desperately hid behind his coffee. He grabbed a croissant from the open packet, cutting it in half and spreading a generous amount of butter and raspberry jam, before coming to join Robert on the sofa. He was surprised by how normal it felt, sitting there watching the news as they chewed silently, not close enough to touch but still able to feel the warmth of Robert’s body if he leaned a little to his left.

He relaxed back into the cushions, taking a large gulp from his cup before setting it down on the glass table in front, and then tucked his feet underneath him. Robert glanced momentarily to the side, their eyes meeting for a split second, and that flush returned to his cheeks almost immediately. It was so unlike him, allowing his usually steel-hard mask to slip even a fraction, but it felt good and he couldn’t bear to force down the small smile playing on his lips.

There was no way to explain the shift between them. Everything Robert had said the day before, it had changed things somehow. He’d opened up, shared something with Aaron he’d apparently not told anyone before. And it shouldn’t have been a big deal to him, but it mattered, because it felt like he was needed, rather than the one always having to ask for help.

“You in work today?” he asked eventually, distracting himself from the tirade of miserable news stories flashing across the screen.

Robert shook his head, mouth full of toast, and Aaron wished he didn’t feel so overjoyed, but he did.

“Thought I’d earned a day off after the effort I put in yesterday,” he explained once he’d swallowed, mouth breaking into a grin which showcased his perfectly straight teeth.

Aaron quirked an eyebrow, leaning back into the corner of the sofa. “That what you business types do, is it? One afternoon of hard graft and you need a whole day’s rest to get over it?”

Robert shoved his knee but laughed, light and breathy. “Shut it, you. And I never take any time off, so I’ve earned it. Plus, it might be nice… just staying here.”

There was something in the way he said it that had Aaron’s heart pounding wildly, but this time he didn’t let it show, determined not to seem so pathetically obvious.

“Not got any plans, then?”

“Thought I’d ask if you were doing anything.”

Aaron rubbed the back of his neck because this felt closer than they’d ever been, even though they’d had their tongues warring against each other at one point, and Robert was staring at him intently, expecting an answer.

“Don’t think I’ve got anything on,” he eventually managed to force out, but his brain had disconnected completely and he was struggling to maintain eye contact, far less come up with rational thought. It shouldn’t have affected him this much, not when he’d hated the guy barely 24 hours before, but his pulse had become startlingly erratic and he was going to go beetroot if he stayed on that sofa much longer.

“Good. Well, we can lounge about here, if you fancy it?” Robert asked, and Aaron was now launching himself towards the counter with his cup, manoeuvring round to the island and fiddling with the various buttons on the coffee-machine to try and distract himself from the shirtless man asking to spend the day with him.

“Yeah, sounds cool.” His voice was low and coarse, but he put it down to needing more coffee inside him and practically hammered his fingers against the buttons before a spurt of dark, steaming liquid began to pour into his cup.

He stayed standing while he drank his coffee, deciding it might be easier on his already constricted lungs if he kept a safe distance from Robert for the time being, or at least until he managed to pull himself together. If it was anything at all, it was likely just a crush, or simply belated gratitude for all Robert had done for him despite getting very little in return. And, of course, he had been emotional last night which had caught Aaron off-guard. He hadn’t expected him to open up that much, or at all really, and having Robert leaning against him, fighting back tears, was bound to affect him.

Saying that, he had no idea what was going on now. He thought back to yesterday morning, finding the note, wanting to trash Robert’s bedroom and realising there was a good chance they had both grown up in the same village. And now they were drinking coffee and watching tv and Robert was smiling at him like… Aaron didn’t know how to finish that sentence, maybe didn’t want to think about it too much.

“Might go for for a shower,” he said, draining the bitter remnants of his coffee before rinsing the cup under the tap.

Robert spread his legs out in front of him on the couch, his taut, freckled stomach suddenly looking very inviting as he leaned backwards, pale eyes taking him in. “Don’t use all the hot water, I’ll be jumping in after you.”

Aaron nodded before making his way towards the bathroom, trying very hard not to imagine what it would be like to have the two of them in the shower together, Robert’s lean, naked body pressed up against his. Once he’d locked the door of the bathroom, he took a moment to look up at the ceiling and focus solely on breathing at a steadier pace, before switching on the shower and turning it to cold.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt like this. And it had nothing to do with Robert, or so he kept telling himself. It was more just where he was. He’d never felt this… comfortable, anywhere. His muscles, usually tight and knotted, were loose and undone, his whole body soft and yielding, sinking lower into his seat with a cushion behind him and the bright warmth of sunlight tracing up his arms.

It did help having Robert there, though. They’d spent most of the morning flitting from their rooms to the lounge, Aaron grabbing his washing from the machine so he could get changed, chucking Robert a towel before he headed off to get showered, then him sitting cross-legged on the couch, flicking through the local newspaper while Robert sat at the dining-table on his laptop, writing the last of his emails. It was peaceful in a way he hadn’t experienced before - it wasn’t the exhausted kind of calm when he’d been up all night and his bones felt like cement, or the tense quiet when he was in a strange room with a strange man at his back. This wasn’t a deafening vacuum where his skin prickled with fear, but the languid, everyday quiet which he’d never had in his life before. Until now.

“We could go out, if you want?” Robert had said while they were eating dinner. It was leftover shepherd’s pie which they both wolfed down with little difficulty. Turned out Aaron was a dab hand at cooking, or so Robert had said while he polished off his plateful, and Aaron had forced himself not to grin.

“What, the two of us?” he’d asked, wondering if this would constitute as a date, or just two friends having a drink. He didn’t even mind which, if he was being honest.

Robert had gave him a lopsided smile before looking about himself. “You see me asking anyone else?”

And so they headed out just after seven, Robert lending Aaron a jacket that was way too big for him and which he refused to wear about fifty times before giving in. Robert always got his way, in the end.

There was a new bar just opened in the centre of town, there’d been a piece in the paper, and the place was heaving when they arrived. The stark change from the arctic chill outside to the cloying heat inside made Aaron exhale sharply, not to mention that crowds of people all jostling for space put him on edge. He liked to see the exit at all times, out of habit. Safer that way, he’d always found.

They stood at the bar for a while before a table near the back cleared and Robert grabbed it, hauling Aaron along with him. They settled themselves and Robert got them both a pint, clinking their glasses together and smiling smugly, as though he’d just won some kind of bet.

“What?” Aaron asked, bringing his bottom lip over his top to clear it of foam.

Robert shrugged, resting an arm on the back of his wooden chair. “Nothing. Wasn’t sure you’d actually come out, that’s all.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Just noticed you haven’t wanted to leave the flat that much. Bit of a home bird, I suppose.”

Aaron scoffed at this. How could he ever have been described as that, considering he’d never had a home, at least not one he was ever welcome in? Still, he had liked staying inside the flat. He was happy there, not so wound up. There wasn’t as much noise, as many people. And he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder, either.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” he countered, but it wasn’t defensive, and he gave Robert a smile to prove it. He didn’t want them having an argument, not when today had been as close to perfect as Aaron was ever likely to get.

“That’s true. And you’ve smiled, which is a miracle in itself.”

“You calling me a miserable git?”

Robert laughed. “Your words, not mine.”

When their glasses were empty, Robert went up to buy the next round and Aaron went for a piss, wanting to be somewhere with just a bit less people. He was enjoying himself, though, and that was enough to distract him from the nervous energy which sparked like electricity inside him.

The gents was empty and he took his time, closing his eyes as he washed his hands just to relish the few more seconds of peace, the sounds of laughter and people talking blurred slightly. He almost sighed when he heard the door open as he was drying his hands, but then the quiet couldn’t last forever.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He almost didn’t think the guy was talking to him, so much so that he didn’t turn round at first. But then he caught sight of him in the mirror to his right, and there was no mistaking that face.

“Sorry, mate. Gotta get back-”

The guy was standing just inside the bathroom, clearly blocking the door, and Aaron wished he hadn’t taken so long now.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” the man continued, oily forehead shining like a beacon under the bare bulb. It wasn’t like Aaron remembered every guy he got with, but this was a regular, not just a one-off.

“Yeah, well, not really doing that now,” he replied coldly, hoping he might get the hint.

“Don’t tell me you’re not on the game anymore?” he asked incredulously, taking a couple of steps forwards and making Aaron realise how cramped this bathroom actually was.

He lowered his gaze. “Just fancied a change, that’s all.”

The man laughed, placing a hand on the wall next to Aaron’s head and leaning in. “Pity. You were the best shag I’d had in a long time. I imagine you thought the same about me.”

His arrogance was outstanding and it made Aaron shrink into himself, desperately wanting to leave. “I should get back-”

“Scared you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?” His breath smelt of beer, damp and hot against Aaron’s cheek. “What about one last time, go out with a bang, if you know what I mean?”

Like he’d never heard that line before. He would have rolled his eyes if his heart wasn’t stammering so badly. Surely Robert would be wondering what was taking him so long.

“No, thanks,” he managed to say, but the guy had put his other hand on the wall now, pinning Aaron to the spot.

“Come on, chances are I’m the best offer you’re gonna get tonight.”

“I don’t want any offers. I told you, I don’t do that now.”

“Yeah? And I’m getting a bit tired of convincing you. Maybe this will change your mind.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out two fifty pound notes. “I bet this speaks volumes, right?”

It was more than he would normally take, but the money didn’t matter, not now. He wasn’t going to do this, be this. He had something much better now, and he wasn’t going to screw it up.

“Look, it’s very generous,” he replied, voice hard and unyielding, “but I’m not interested. D’you mind letting me passed?”

The guy seemed taken aback, evidently having imagined this conversation going in a different direction, but made no move to let him go. “Actually, I do mind.”

His face was very close now, sharp nose brushing along Aaron’s stubbled jaw before placing a wet kiss on his neck. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, his whole body growing rigid. He didn’t want this, but he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move.

“Everything all right in here?”

Robert. Aaron took advantage of the fact the man had been startled and darted quickly from between his arms. He bolted from the bathroom, drying his neck with the sleeve of his jumper and headed straight for the exit. His hands were shaking badly, and he weaved quickly through the groups of people all chatting amicably, using his shoulder to shove the last couple out of the way as he neared the door. It was so heavy that he almost had to slam himself into it just to get it to open, his arms somehow weaker than before.

The frosted air was a welcome change from the stuffy bar and he dragged in a long, harsh breath, the cold making his lungs ache. He walked a little way down the street before leaning back against the brick wall, eyes closed, trying to control his rapidly beating heart. When he heard the door open, he didn’t turn his head. He knew who it would be.

“Aaron?”

Robert’s voice was taut with concern and he pushed down a smile, relieved that he wasn’t angry at him.

“I’m fine,” he said by way of assurance, eyes fluttering open again. “Just needed to get out of there.”

“Who was that creep?”

Aaron licked his bottom lip, unsure how much to tell him. “He used to be… Well, he was… you know, a client.”

The recognition dawned on Robert and he looked down at the ground. “Sorry. Should I not have interrupted?”

“No! He… I didn’t want… I’m glad you came in when you did,” he huffed, the answer falling well short of what he’d wanted to say. But truthfully, he didn’t know how to explain any of it, mainly because they’d never actually discussed Aaron’s former line of work. He wasn’t even sure now whether Robert knew what he did was in the past.

“Ok, well, if you’re sure.”

Aaron nodded, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. He'd left Robert's jacket back in the bar but he didn't want to say anything, the idea of going back inside unbearable.

“I am. I kinda just want to go home, to be honest.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He felt the sinking feeling in his stomach which went hand-in-hand with self-consciousness. “You don’t have to come with me. I mean, if you want to stay…”

“Don’t be ridiculous," Robert replied immediately, giving a sharp shake of his head. "Come on, let’s get home. It’s freezing out here.”

“Thanks… for coming to my rescue.”

The flat was dark and silent, uncomfortably so now that there was this sudden tension in the air, and Aaron couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that someone was about to creep up behind him.

“Is that what I was doing?” Robert asked, his voice quiet, almost as though he was equally shaken by the whole thing. He set his keys down on the counter and Aaron flinched as they rattled together on the granite. God, he seriously needed to calm down.

“That’s what it felt like.”

“You did look a bit… panicked.”

He squirmed inside his jumper, not wanting to remember any part of it. “Yeah. Wasn’t really sure what to do.”

“You could have pushed him off.”

It took him a second to understand what Robert had said, and even longer to realise what he’d meant. He focused his eyes on him, questioning, and let the first stab of betrayal bury itself deep into his gut.

“You think I wanted it?”

“Did you?”

He couldn’t believe this. “No, I didn’t.” The words were barbed and forceful, pushed out through gritted teeth.

Robert seemed to realise his mistake, or at the very least that his footing was no longer secure. “Sorry.”

Aaron gave him a bitter smile. He was remembering the last time Robert had apologised now, remembering how it had meant nothing to him then as well.

“No, it’s fine. What do I expect? I get paid for sex, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise when people assume I’m up for it anywhere, anytime.”

“That’s not-”

“Yeah, it is, Robert,” he cut in, not wanting to hear anymore. “That’s exactly what you meant, or what you thought anyway.”

Robert was looking down at his feet now, like a giant ten year old who’d just been scolded by his parents. He even had that petulant pout which Aaron had assumed only children could pull off.

“I’m not doing too good at this, am I?”

He shot him a warning look, not sure what Robert was referring to. “What?”

“I don’t know. Being a mate. Feels like everything I say is wrong.”

This, Aaron could wholeheartedly agree with. “Well, maybe if you didn’t keep assuming I was willing to fuck anyone who so much as looked at me-”

“I don’t think that. Aaron, really, I don’t. It’s just… I don’t know, I walked in and he was kissing you and… I don’t know, it just looked-”

“It looked like we were in the foreplay stage of fucking in the gents? Yeah, I’m sure it must have, if you ignored how fucking terrified I was.”

A pause, another dragged-out second where one of them was dissecting what the other was saying, before the penny finally, fucking finally, dropped.

“You were scared?”

Aaron bit down hard on his lower lip, wanting to just yell because of how stupid he was. “I tell you what, Robert, why don’t you get pinned against a wall and groped and see how much you like it? Especially when the guy doing it thinks all you are is a bit of meat he can do anything he likes to for the right price. In fact, you don’t have to imagine that, do you? Cause you’re exactly the same as him, throwing money at the problem to get your own way.”

The silence was different this time, hollow rather than bloated, as though someone had sucker punched their conversation, winding it.

Robert staggered just a little, his face now lit up eerily white by the stretch of pale moonlight cutting across the room.

“I’d never do that,” he said, but there was no strength to the words, as though he was too stunned to come up with a better response.

“No?” Aaron pushed, still too angry to back down, no matter how fragile he suddenly felt. “You forgetting the time you came home drunk and threw a roll of money at me? It wasn’t that long ago, I definitely remember it.”

The recognition on his face, the subsequent grimace, was all Aaron needed.

“That’s not fair,” Robert began, but his voice was feeble and they both heard it. He’d already been defeated.

“It is, actually. You thought you could buy me, and so did he. At least he was up front about it.”

“I was drunk and… yeah, all right, I misinterpreted. But I don’t think of you like that, honestly.”

Aaron shook his head, each excuse weaker than the last. Robert couldn’t win this, didn’t even sound like he wanted to.

“No? So we’re just mates, then? Mates hanging out at bars, mates who eat dinner and chat about nothing? Mates who help each other out?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Mates who try and kiss each other.”

He hadn’t meant to say the last one. It was supposed to be an internal thought, something which would gnaw away at him all night, but not something he was supposed to say aloud. Fuck.

“What?” The word came out like broken glass from Robert’s mouth, all sharp edges and jagged corners, but it was too late now. Aaron had said it, he had to keep going.

“It’s true, innit? I try to kiss you, you try to kiss me. Anyone else tries it on with me and you’re suddenly there, stopping them.”

“You wanted me to stop him!” Robert broke in, no longer passive but engaged, green eyes glinting as they went wide with… Aaron couldn’t tell whether it was anger or fear.

“Apparently you thought I was up for it, so now I’m not sure why you interrupted!”

“Because… Why are we even discussing this?”

“No, come on, Robert, let’s not play this down. You just told me you thought me and him were about to go at it, so desperate for each other we were going to fuck in a bathroom, so why the Hell did you not just turn and leave? Why did you stop him? Because you sure as Hell weren’t doing it for me.”

Aaron didn’t even realise what he was saying now. When had he actually come to this conclusion? Before this second, he hadn’t even questioned Robert’s decision, but now things were starting to fall into place, the scales falling from his eyes.

Robert, too, only now seemed to be working out what he had done, and why he had done it. There was a moment where their eyes locked, and Aaron knew that if either one of them turned away, whatever sat between them would be forever lost, never to be spoken of again. But neither did look away. If anything, they seemed to stare harder. It was a silent challenge, an unspoken dare, both of them waiting for the other to make a move.

“Fuck this,” Robert finally growled, his voice so low that it seemed to emanate from deep inside his chest. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I was just trying to do the right thing.”

Aaron said nothing, couldn’t find anything that would make any difference, and just watched as Robert skirted round him and stormed down the corridor towards his room. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, angry with himself for ruining what should have been a good night, and for possibly destroying the only friendship he’d actually managed to maintain for more than a day or so. He was an idiot, and it would likely cost him everything, all because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

The echo of Robert’s door slamming made Aaron flinch, and he knew they wouldn’t be talking again tonight. But the thought of going back to his room, staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to descend, was an impossibility. He could sit through here, watch tv, hope Robert wasn’t as stubborn as him and would eventually come back through, but chances of that happening were slim to non-existent.

He sat on the arm of the sofa, eyes glancing towards Robert’s door which he could just see down the corridor. There was a sliver of light casting an amber glow along the dark floor, and every few minutes a shadow would pass across it. Robert was pacing, evidently not keen on going to sleep either. Aaron might have smiled if he wasn’t so wound up, every muscle tight and rigid, like he was waiting for an imminent attack. If he could just explain, make things right, not have to spend hours sitting in the darkness worrying whether or not he’d have a roof over his head by morning…

Robert’s shadow passed by the door again and Aaron stood, jaw set in determination. He moved without thinking, crossing the floorboards quietly, fists clenching and unclenching as he made his way towards Robert’s bedroom. What he was going to say, he had no idea, but he couldn’t think of that yet, or he’d bottle it. Instead, he raised his hand, ready to knock.

And then the door opened. Robert stood in front of him, surprised to find Aaron there, and then his shoulders dropped slightly, perhaps in relief, and the two were left unable to do or say anything except stare. Aaron licked his lips, ready to launch into a full explanation, but there was a glint in Robert’s eye which made him stop, a heat to his stare which had his breath hitching in his throat.

His gaze dropped to Robert’s lips involuntarily, and now he knew what this was. He felt himself sway forwards, tentatively, still not certain of the response he’d get, but it was all that was needed. Robert let out a huff, as if he’d been holding his breath, and there was another second of tangible silence, the air thick with it like just before a storm began, and then Robert lunged for Aaron, crushing their mouths together.

Chapter Text

Robert was slammed back into the wall, Aaron’s hands gripping his hair as his shoulder hit off the light switch, sending the room into almost complete darkness. He was grinning, couldn’t help himself, because this was what he had wanted, what he’d been determined to get when he’d opened the door a few seconds before. And Aaron wanted it, too. He’d been about to knock, and God knows how it would have played out after that, but it didn’t matter now. They were doing this, clinging to each other as their mouths explored hungrily, and Robert was drowning.

His shirt was unbuttoned swiftly by Aaron’s fingers, and the scrape of his nails against his bare chest had him moaning into the kiss, the ache in his stomach growing by the second. His hands slid down Aaron’s waist, up and under his t-shirt, and he pulled at the fabric, needing it off, needing every fucking layer that lay between his hands and Aaron’s naked body removed with immediate effect.

The cotton material clung on and he hauled, impatient, yanking it over Aaron’s head before flinging it to the floor, his hands skimming across Aaron’s shoulders, his chest, his stomach…

They weren’t noticeable at first. In fact, if Aaron had stood just a little to his right, dipped more into the shadows, Robert doubted he would have even seen them at all. But the moonlight gave them an opalescent glow, silver-white against his flushed skin. They weren’t beautiful. He wasn’t about to romanticise it, because there was a raw pain there which couldn’t be ignored, even if he’d wanted to. But there was something about them, something which made Robert just want to reach out and touch-

“Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Robert turned away immediately, too stunned to say anything. He shouldn’t have stared, he shouldn’t have looked.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you…”

“No,” Robert interjected, because he couldn’t have Aaron thinking something that just wasn’t true. “No, you didn’t need to tell me anything.”

“Not exactly a turn on, though, are they?”

He froze, the words seeping like cold water into his brain. Robert didn’t know how to respond, how to tell Aaron that those scars, however he’d got them, were nothing to be ashamed of. But the words wouldn’t come, and they wouldn’t nearly have been enough anyway.

Instead, he gave himself half a second to inhale, to gather himself together, and then his arms were encircling his waist again, pulling Aaron into a kiss, opening both their mouths greedily. He waited for Aaron to resist, to push away, but after a brief moment of hesitation, he felt Aaron lean in, his hands travelling up Robert’s chest before sliding round to cup his face.

It had an echo of the other kisses they had shared - fast and wet and rough, a bolt from the blue neither had anticipated. But it was going to be different, as well, Robert was sure of that. He wasn’t going to settle for just Aaron’s mouth this time around. He wanted to show him, show every part of him, that he was worth so much more than he’d been given, that whatever others had said or done, it was all behind him. Robert was his present now.

Aaron let out a rasping breath of hot air against Robert’s neck as they began to undo each other’s belts, fingers nimbly tugging off layers with expertise. He didn’t think about how many other men Aaron had done this with, how many strangers had stripped him without even knowing his name. It was too much to think about, and in this moment, all that mattered was them.

He could feel himself growing unbearably hard as he pushed his jeans off with a forceful kick of his leg, and the look Aaron gave him, long and slow and irresistible, had him tipping forwards until their mouths were once again engaged. He took his time now, lips barely parted as he placed them gently, sensitively along Aaron’s jaw, sweeping down the broad expanse of his neck, thumb stroking at his coarse stubble as his tongue found the sharp incline of his collarbone.

The moan Aaron let out was enough to make his cock twitch involuntarily, but he didn’t stop, swirling his tongue inside the valley of Aaron’s shoulder with light, wet strokes and then nipping the sensitive skin with his teeth.

“Robert,” Aaron breathed, and he smiled, because he could do this. He was good at this. And there was a part of him, the part which had imagined this scenario ever since Aaron had taken up residence in Robert’s spare bedroom, that had been worried it wouldn’t be enough for him. Aaron had been with so many others, and probably not just sleazy men who had no other option but to pay for a quick blowjob in a car park. So there had been a chance Robert wouldn’t match up against this ambiguous other man, this Lothario who could probably make Aaron howl with pleasure. But as his mouth travelled back along Aaron’s jawline, wet and hot and greedy, there was no denying the effect it was having on him. He was almost shaking, mouth gaping open, his breath stuttering before stopping completely as Robert claimed his mouth again, tongue lapping inside without mercy.

They stumbled back towards the bed, Aaron now pushing off his own jeans while trying to keep his tongue firmly in Robert’s mouth. He couldn’t help but grin, the desire so palpable between them he could probably power the whole flat with its energy. But then he felt a firm, curious hand cup his arse and suddenly there was no humour anymore, only carnal lust which burned like white-hot needles against his skin.

He pushed them down on top of the duvet, both emitting a huff as they bounced against the mattress, and there was the briefest pause, their mouths no longer crushed together, where all they could do was stare. Robert wondered if this would be the moment he would be shoved off, told to stop, and he held his breath, determined not to move a muscle.

“Still want this?” Aaron asked hesitantly, blue eyes dazzling under the moonlight and his lips so red and swollen and beautiful.

God, yes, Robert thought, the ache in his stomach so strong he had no option but to give in, dipping his head to place a determined kiss against Aaron’s full, warm mouth. They both groaned into it, all dignity gone as they simply took whatever they could get, tongues surging forwards as the kiss grew more and more frantic. The desperation which coursed through him was visceral, a scrape of sharp, jagged talons which cut him to the quick and left him ripped open. He wanted this, wanted it more than anything, and he bucked his hips, whatever constraints he had placed on himself now completely undone.

“We need- We need-” Aaron was trying to get the words out despite still having their mouths half-locked, and Robert gave a frustrated sigh, realising what he meant. He pushed himself off the bed, almost hurling himself round to the dresser where he grabbed a handful of condoms and a bottle of lube. His cock was rigid now, so hard it was in danger of snapping if he didn’t get Aaron’s hand or mouth or arse around it soon.

He pulled off his boxers before clambering back onto the bed, and noticed with a ridiculous amount of triumph the slight raise of Aaron’s eyebrows when he took in the size of Robert’s cock. Good, he thought, I want you to be impressed.

He ripped open a packet with his teeth and slid on the condom, swallowing a groan at having anything physically touching his dick. He was so ready, almost embarrassingly so, but he wasn’t the only one. He could see Aaron’s cock through his dark grey boxers, it’s thick outline rigid against the soft fabric. Robert crawled across the bed, the pit of his stomach burning with desire, and had to bite his lip not to moan again when Aaron spread his legs for him, open and waiting.

“Up,” he murmured, not wanting to fracture the charged hush which had descended around them in the darkening bedroom. Aaron lifted his hips off the bed  without resistance and allowed Robert to slip off his boxers, throwing them across the room before moving further up between Aaron’s legs. His cock was shorter, thicker, and Robert’s tongue became heavy with longing, saliva pooling in his mouth as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss on the inside of Aaron’s thigh.

“Fuck.” The word was a whisper and slightly strangled, and Robert swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just take them both over the edge immediately. A quick blowjob, messy and hot and fierce was not what he had in mind. In any case, it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of them and he wanted to remember tonight as one of the best he’d ever had. And he wanted it for Aaron too. Robert was going to take his time, savour every delicious moment of this, tasting every inch of Aaron’s body as he stroked and kissed and licked him into a state of oblivion.

He pushed Aaron’s knee to part his legs further, peppering feather-light kisses up along his thigh, nipping gently at the sensitive skin until he heard him illicit the quietest of whimpers. I’m going to make you feel so good, better than you’ve ever felt, he thought, smiling broadly. He dragged his eyes upwards, mouthing Aaron’s stomach just below his belly button, and watched the younger man squirm beneath him, every touch driving him wild. Aaron’s cock was seeping pre-cum and his mouth went suddenly dry, anticipation knotting inside him, clouding his mind. Aaron was kneading his fists into the covers, biting hard on his lip, but he opened his eyes when he felt the loss of contact, Robert staring at him intently. He held the stare, lowering his chin just a fraction before opening his mouth over the head, tracing his tongue along the slit. Aaron let out a moan which drove its way under Robert’s skin, igniting every cell until he was burning with it, lit up with need.

When he took Aaron fully into his mouth, working his tongue along the shaft before pulling back to lave it across the head, he had to practically push Aaron’s hips into the mattress to stop them bucking violently. The desperation came off him in waves, Robert could smell it, taste it, and there was a moment where relief overwhelmed him, because he wanted this too. And it wasn’t just loneliness, it wasn’t just the infinite absence of touch and comfort which had practically destroyed his sanity. He could have gone with anyone if it was just that. No, this was different, he could feel it in his gut. This was down to Aaron. Only Aaron.

Robert bobbed his head, taking his cock all the way into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again as he resurfaced. Aaron had his head tipped right back, dark hair ruffled as he sank into the pillow behind him, everything about him looking like some kind of ravaged angel. Robert smiled wide, letting Aaron's cock slip from his mouth in order to lean forwards and place his lips softly against the thick scar on his chest.

“I want to be inside you,” he purred, reaching out to cup Aaron’s cheek and kissing him, slow and deep, until his lungs were burning from lack of air.

He felt a hand sliding round his back, down the curved slope of his arse, stroking his inner thigh until he was in danger of collapsing from the sensation. And Aaron was looking at him all the while with this strange expression, soft and open and almost curious. Robert could have drowned in it, but the heat burning low in his stomach was all but consuming him now, and he needed to feel Aaron, to bury himself inside the warm tightness of him.

The bottle of lube had found its way underneath the duvet and Robert spent a good few seconds patting the covers trying to find the damned thing, scowling as his impatience grew, while Aaron seemed to be holding back a laugh, perhaps not wanting to ruin the moment by snorting. He poured a little on his index and middle finger, rubbing them together until they were tepid if not warm, and his heart gave another unexpected jolt when Aaron separated his legs again. Robert wondered if he would ever get used to that sight.

He spent the next few minutes working Aaron open, one finger at a time, and with each moan Robert’s desperation grew, and he laved his mouth over Aaron’s nipples, pulling at them with his teeth because he needed to have every part of him tasting Aaron, feeling him, memorising every line and curve of his body.

“Robert…” His name came out as a plea, a beg, and he knew Aaron was ready. He pulled his fingers out slowly, bringing his hands round to grip Aaron’s hips, loving the feel of his fingers digging into the muscled flesh.   

“God, just fucking-” The rest of the sentence was choked off as Robert entered him, and Aaron’s fingers looked like they were in grave danger of ripping through the bed sheet, teeth tearing at the skin of his bottom lip to stop from yelling.

And he felt impossibly good. Tight and slick and so fucking hot as he pushed deeper, forcing himself not to dig his nails int Aaron’s hips as the first wave of pleasure hit him. He held the pace, the rhythm steady as his mind began to fog. Their breathing had become laboured already, Aaron panting as his hand reached to stroke his cock, and he knew they wouldn’t last long, knew he couldn’t hold on because his control was slipping like sand through his fingers. Inside his chest, his heart pounded a frantic rhythm, and there was a weightlessness inside him, as though he was no longer tethered to his body, floating.

Aaron arched backwards, tightening around him as he came suddenly, his mouth open and silent, and Robert felt his own orgasm slam into him seconds later, blinding him. He let out a trembling breath, eyes closing as a ripple of pleasure raised the hairs on his arms like static. He pushed in one final time, Aaron loose and wet around him, before he pulled out slowly and disposed quickly of the condom. Aaron was wiping off the come from his dick and stomach with a tissue, and Robert knelt up on the bed to place a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Aaron’s chest sunk as he exhaled, leaning into the kiss and placing a gentle hand against Robert’s cheek. After  all the breathy moans and yells of pleasure, the flat had returned to its previous quiet, the darkness now enveloping them. Robert grabbed his pyjama bottoms from his chair and slipped them on before climbing back onto the bed. He wanted to curl onto his side, wrap his arms tightly around Aaron’s bare waist, tuck his chin into the crook of his shoulder, but Aaron was now sitting upright, tugging on his boxers, and there was a tension to his face which made Robert’s stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“If you’re getting a drink of water, can you get me one, too?” he said, more as a test of the fraught air around Aaron than because he was genuinely thirsty. But he didn’t respond, sliding off the bed and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to turn round.

“Aaron?” His voice was laced with confusion, and possibly frustration, because he was ruining the end of what had been such a perfect fuck.

“I’m just gonna head to bed. I need to sleep,” was all the reply Robert got, and it wasn’t nearly enough.

“And you can’t do that here?” he asked, throat tight as he pushed himself up against the headboard. There was no way he was sleeping alone tonight.

Aaron half-turned, and Robert found his eyes roaming involuntarily over a different set of white-silver lines which skimmed across his lower back. He hadn’t noticed this patch of scarring earlier, and he held back a gasp, not wanting to make him self-conscious.

“I don’t usually… I mean, normally I would just…” He couldn’t seem to find the words, but Robert understood all the same, heart aching as he pulled back the covers.

“Just get back into bed, yeah?”

Aaron didn’t attempt to hide the relief on his face, corners of his mouth twitching into a grateful smile, and Robert hated that he had had even a moment of doubt about what this was. When he climbed back into bed, Robert immediately pulled him closer, hooking an arm around him and burying his nose into the back of his neck.

Sleep overtook him almost immediately once he felt Aaron settle inside the curve of his body. It had been a long day and an… eventful night, and Robert’s thoughts began to slip into dreams, the warmth radiating off Aaron in waves. He breathed him in, the sweet smell of skin and sweat and sex clinging to the back of his throat.

He was drifting, not quite dead to the world yet but getting there, when he felt an imperceptible shift of movement from between his arms.

“Robert?”

He gave a low groan, annoyed that his comfortable slumber was being denied to him, but there was enough hesitation in Aaron’s voice to force him out of exhaustion. He reached round and stroked Aaron’s hand under the covers, brushing his lips against his back, showing him he was listening.

“I just thought I should let you know… What I used to do… The things I did… It’s all in the past. I’m not going back to that life, not anymore.”

He was awake now.

It took him a moment to register what was being said, to replay the words again, to make sure he understood. Aaron was turning his back on his old life, the life of sleeping on the streets and selling himself just to survive. And though it likely wasn’t true, it almost felt like Aaron was choosing Robert, choosing to stay rather than to leave like everyone else, and the the idea terrified him. Because no one had chosen him before, no one had made the conscious decision to stay, to bet on him when everyone else had given up. And perhaps he should have been glad, to have someone who trusted him, but he knew his own track record, knew how badly he fucked up and how much damage he caused when he did, and there was every chance it would happen again.

But Aaron’s breath was shallow now, the tightness along his back making him rigid as he curled into himself. It was a defence mechanism, one Robert recognised instantly, and he rubbed his thumb along Aaron’s wrist without thinking, knowing it would be appreciated.

“Glad to hear it,” he whispered, because he didn’t know what else to say, how to communicate his fears without exacerbating the situation. But they were there, and they were real, simmering just below the surface. What were they now to each other? Was this the beginning of something, or would it just be as it had been up until this point? Did he want this to be anything more than sex? How would he explain that to Aaron if he was willing to give up his whole life for Robert? The questions were relentless, incessant, and he pushed each down in turn, refusing to listen to them when Aaron was so close. Instead, he placed his lips, slightly parted, against the cool skin of Aaron’s shoulder, leaving them there a fraction longer than he should have, waiting to feel him relax.

He stayed half-awake for awhile, noting the change in Aaron’s breathing from shallow to languid, before drifting off to sleep himself, his shoulders no longer weighed down with loneliness, but with a different kind of dread entirely.

Chapter Text

The window was peppered with rain, rivulets of water running down the glass, while outside the sky was a sheet of steel, barricading the whole city under blackening clouds. Aaron couldn’t move beneath the weight of someone’s arm draped across him, and at his back he felt a heat which rivalled a furnace radiating through the soft cotton of his shirt.

His heart began to thump jaggedly inside his chest, and in his drowsy, semi-conscious state, his mind crackling like static, it took him longer than normal to dredge up memories from the previous night. And then Robert’s face appeared, flushed and greedy, green eyes tinged with lust, and Aaron’s shoulders slumped.

Just Robert. He was safe.

Aaron shifted round to face the man lying next to him, his face soft and slackened, mouth slightly parted as he breathed rather than twisted into that infuriating grin. Aaron liked him like this - open, unguarded, free of bullshit. Robert’s breathing was deep and even, and the temptation to lean in and place a light kiss against his lips was almost overpowering. Aaron could practically taste Robert’s mouth against his own, imagining their soft, pliant lips moulded together. Instead, he just gazed unabashedly, secure in the knowledge Robert couldn’t see him, and traced the constellation of freckles across Robert’s cheeks with his eyes, and the honey lashes which fanned his milky skin.

Angel, Aaron thought, before kicking himself internally for being such an idiot. It was true though. All those images of blonde-haired cherubs with their full, pink lips were nothing compared to the flesh and blood version sleeping soundly next to him. Aaron couldn’t remember seeing anyone like him.

Robert suddenly stirred, forehead creasing slightly, and Aaron immediately pulled back, sliding out from under the covers and creeping silently across towards the door. He didn’t want to deal with those first awkward seconds yet, where neither of them knew what to say or how to act. Instead, he slipped quietly out into the hallway, shivering at the dip in temperature now he wasn’t nestled in the warm, soft bed.

This was the first time he’d been up before Robert and he took a moment to enjoy the hush, the murky shadows, the comforting sound of rain pattering against the glass. Usually, when he woke, the lights would all be on, the heating turned up against the winter chill, and there would be a coffee sat on the counter waiting for him. It hit him how domestic that scenario was, how regular it had become without him realising, and how strange it felt now to wake up first, greeted by darkness and silence.

You shouldn’t get too comfy, chances are you won’t be here forever, a voice echoed from some dark corner of his mind, and he scowled. He didn’t want to think about how his future was balanced on a knife-edge, how easily it could slide away from him if Robert changed his mind. He could wake up this morning, decide their night of passion had been a mistake, and chuck him out. And where would Aaron be then? Back on the streets, back to strange hands on his bare skin, back to being cold and alone.

It was an unwanted reminder and he pushed it away, busying himself by switching on some lights and making a much-needed coffee. He could hear Robert moving around now, floor creaking under his heavy footsteps, and his eyes were trained on the door, ready for it to open. When Robert did eventually emerge from the dim bedroom, eyes at half-mast and freckled chest a pale V peaking through his dressing-gown, he headed straight for the bathroom, barely acknowledging Aaron.

Something was wrong. It wasn’t even being ignored that had him on edge, but more the sudden tension which felt like dead weight settling in the air around him. He heard the shower go a few seconds later and sighed. No point waiting for him to come out then.

He poured the rest of his coffee down the sink, his exhaustion having disappeared the moment he saw Robert, and slunk into his room to get dressed. He wasn’t going to hang around the kitchen, waiting like some pathetic animal for a few scraps of attention. If Robert wanted to talk to him, he knew where he’d be.

There was a storm raging outside now, battering against the walls as if trying to break in. Aaron sat on the floor by the window, watching the ant-sized cars in the distance racing along, lights twinkling against the tear-stained glass. He wondered about the people below, their lives, whether they were living in fear or hopeful for the future, or more likely somewhere in between. Maybe they were looking up at his window now, wondering the same thing. Christ, what an idea.

At some point, he heard the shower go off and Robert’s footsteps padding back to his room. Aaron waited, straining his ear as he heard him shuffling round to the wardrobe before hearing the coat-hangers rattling against each other as he unhooked a shirt, and then the bedroom door opened and he heard him back in the kitchen. A thud as he put on his boots, a jingle of keys as he grabbed them from the bowl by the door, and then the slam of the front door.

He’d gone. Not one word to Aaron, just upped and left.

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. Aaron told himself it didn’t matter, that he was heading off to work, that he had probably slept in. But he knew it wasn’t true. Robert was avoiding him, whether because of last night or some other reason, but he certainly didn’t want to see him.

Fine, he thought, getting to his feet. If you don’t want to see me, then I don’t want to see you either. See how you like coming back to an empty flat.

It was fucking freezing. So cold his skin felt like it would crack at any moment, cheeks icy and red as rain lashed against them. He ducked his head, tugging at his hood, and pushed onwards. The streets were deserted, hardly surprising considering most sane people would have gone inside by now. But the flat wasn’t where he wanted to be, not today. He wasn’t going to sit and wait for Robert to return. He’d never been that guy, never the one pining, and he wasn’t going to start now.

His feet took him to the outskirts of the city, onto the fringes where urban living merged with suburbia. It was streets he knew well, his old stomping ground for want of a better description. It was strange to think how much had changed in such a relatively short space of time. He’d gone from having nothing, literally nothing, to living in a luxury apartment with everything provided for him. It was a miracle, or maybe karma. He liked to think he’d done something good in a previous life to warrant this spate of good luck.

Up ahead he could see some scrawny looking guy in just a t-shirt and black jeans shivering on the pavement. He was drenched, the top almost see-through and plastered against his ribcage. As Aaron got closer, he spotted a pair of rectangular glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose...

Shit.

“Oi!” he called, picking up his pace as he got closer. The boy turned, and Aaron recognised him instantly, although he couldn’t remember his name anymore. Stupid fucker was going to catch his death if he stayed out here.

The boy looked on the verge of bolting, but something made him stop, turn rigid, and Aaron practically jogged the last few metres to reach him before he upped and ran.

“You remember me?” Aaron asked, voice softer than before, not wanting to frighten him. Up close, he looked even worse than he’d imagined. His face was impossibly white, lips a violent shade of purple, and his teeth were chattering.

He gave a nod of confirmation and Aaron pulled off his jacket… well, Robert’s jacket, actually, and wrapped it round him tentatively.

“Come on. We’ll get you somewhere dry, yeah?”

He encircled an arm around the younger man’s waist, ignoring for now how thin he felt and how badly he was shaking, and half-dragged him back towards town. There was a cafe nearby he’d visited at the most ungodly of hours, usually when he was starving and hadn’t had a meal all day. The woman who owned the place had a soft spot for prostitutes - her son had fallen into that line of work a while back while she had been travelling around Asia (he remembered her saying something about a car accident and the tragedy of her boy dying so young) - and now she seemed to think this was her chance at redemption. Aaron hadn’t liked hearing the details, not when he had his own problems to deal with, but it was somewhere warm and safe he could come to when there was nowhere else.

The bell rang above their heads as he opened the door, a wave of hot air hitting him full in the face and making him shudder. The guy hadn’t said a word and Aaron looked at him now, wondering if he’d collapsed, but he seemed conscious at least. He heaved him into a chair away from the door and crouched down next to him.

“What was your name again?” he asked, two fingers placed against his wrist to check his pulse. He didn’t know much, but he knew he should have been feeling a much stronger heartbeat than he was.

“Finn,” the guy replied through trembling lips, and now Aaron remembered. The same night he’d met Robert. The same night his whole life had changed.

“Right, Finn. I’m gonna get you something hot to eat, all right? Just stay there.” He kept his voice calm, knowing that if he asked too many questions or raised his voice right now, the boy would be off like a shot and probably into way worse trouble than he was already in.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” she exclaimed in her coarse, London accent. “And I see you’ve brought a friend along with ya.”

Aaron looked back at Finn who was clinging onto Robert’s jacket as though it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Yeah. Don’t suppose you could shout him a meal? He’s not doing too good.”

Hazel rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “Go and sit down. I’ll bring you both over a plate of chips and some tea, how’s that sound?”

Aaron gave her a soft ‘thank you’ before returning to the table, sitting across from Finn so he could take in the damage. He looked worse under the lights - transparent skin and blue veins, his shoulders shaking so badly the chair was rattling off the floor tiles.

“What were you doing out in this weather?” he asked, leaning forwards so only Finn would hear.

“Desperate,” Finn replied, teeth still chattering, and wiped away the rainwater dripping from his fringe onto his cheeks like tears.

Aaron sighed, rubbing hard at his forehead. He shouldn’t be getting involved in any of this. He was out of it now, this was his past. But his conscience was stronger than the sensible part of his brain, and so he stayed seated.

“You going it on your own, then? Cause no way would any pimp have you out there in that, and especially not with you in just a t-shirt.”

Finn visibly became smaller, hunching into himself like he wanted to disappear, and Aaron could recognise something was wrong instantly.

“You wanna tell me who you’re working for?” he asked, because the boy was scared and Aaron knew every pimp in the area. He wasn’t going to let this lie.

Finn shook his head, glasses sliding further down his nose. “It’s nothing to do with him.”

“Oh, yeah? Then you won’t have a problem giving me his name, will you?”

Aaron rested his elbows on the table, hands clasped as he waited for Finn to give him an answer. He had all day, it wasn’t as if he planned on heading back to the flat just yet. In fact, the longer he stayed out the better.

Finn was still shaking but his lips were finally back to a reasonably pink colour, if still a touch paler than Aaron would have liked. He glanced up at him through his rain-spattered glasses, and Aaron was reminded again at how young he looked, how vulnerable.

“He… he said I needed to learn a lesson. I went with a guy last night but I couldn’t… I bottled it. Ran off. He said I could either make some money today or I could go it alone.”

Aaron ground his teeth together. He’d heard it before, pimps viewing their ‘employees’ as nothing more than property to be sold for any price, as long as they were making money. At least Aaron had never had that - Ronnie, despite all his many faults, had been as close to a parental figure as Aaron had ever known.

“Okay. Well, you tell me his name and I’ll go have a word. Nothing serious, I promise, I’ll just remind him he should be looking out for you. You can hardly work if you’re in hospital.”

That part was true, at least. But the part about it not being serious? Oh no, Aaron was going to have words all right, but it certainly wasn’t going to be a friendly chat.

Finn still looked unconvinced, but he dipped his head, sighing, and then nodded. “Fine. His name’s Ronnie. He’s got a boxing club-”

“No.” The word came out just as his mind shut down. It wasn’t Ronnie. Couldn’t be. Ronnie was good to his boys, fairer than most. And he’d been good to Aaron more than anyone else. He’d never have been responsible for the mess Finn was in now. Hell, Ronnie would never have taken Finn on in the first place!

“Look, whoever your pimp is, his name’s not Ronnie. Guaranteed. What did the guy look like?”

“He… Well, he… I don’t know. Just average looking. Black hair, bit grey round the sides… I don’t know, really.”

“Tattoos? Or scars?”

Something registered in Finn’s eyes and he nodded slowly. “Yeah, he’s got a scar just above his eyebrow.”

Fuck. It was Ronnie. He’d got the scar in one of the first boxing matches he’d ever played, back when he was a teenager. He’d won the game, and the other guy had gone nuts, went for him with a broken bottle. Aaron had remembered sitting in Ronnie’s office that first time, skinny and terrified, on the run from the McFarlane’s, and Ronnie had told him that story over a cup of tea before agreeing to put him on the books. It had been one of the few times he’d felt safe in his life, like things were going to be all right.

“Ok. This is what I’m gonna do. I’ve got thirty quid here, which’ll do you at least one night in the hostel down the street. Hazel will be out in a minute with your food, so you eat and then you go to the hostel, yeah? This,” he said, pausing to scrawl his mobile number onto a napkin, “is my number. My phone’s not working right now but it should be back up and running in a day or two, so you can phone me any time. And I’m gonna go speak to Ronnie, clear things up with him.”

His blood was searing with anger, the numbness in his fingers no longer mattering. He wanted to punch something, or someone, but he couldn’t let it show on his face. Finn looked scared enough as it was.

“You’ll just chat, though? I don’t want him to be angry at me.”

Aaron knew that feeling well. He could still remember when he’d fucked up on his first time, ending up crying in the passenger seat of some guy’s car, just sobbing his heart out because he couldn’t handle what he was doing. And the fear which had coursed through him then was the exact same fear Finn was feeling now - that Ronnie would be disappointed, that he’d lash out, that he’d disown him like everyone else. Except Ronnie had taken him aside, talked to him, made him feel better. He’d been soft, gentle, nothing like the guy Finn seemed to know.

“It’s all right, me and Ronnie go way back. He won’t be angry at you. Promise.”

The boxing club was on the other side of town and by the time Aaron had reached it, he was soaked through and burning with anger. His clipped nails dug painfully into the palms of his hands, storming through to the main boxing ring where Ronnie’s office was situated just in the back corner. The door was open and he could already see his former boss sitting at his desk, counting money from the safe behind him. Greedy bastard, Aaron thought, shouldering passed one of the younger boxers who attempted to ask who he was.

“I want a word,” he shouted, voice rough like gravel, as he approached the office door. Ronnie flicked his dark eyes upwards, thin lips cracking into a smirk.

“The prodigal son has finally returned!” he exclaimed, now getting to his feet and tying a rubber band round the roll of money in his hand. “Nice holiday, was it?”

Aaron ignored the joke, stepping inside the cramped room and fighting the urge to take a swing there and then. “You got a boy called Finn on your books?”

Ronnie didn’t flinch, his gaze unwavering as he put the wad of money into the tin box on the desk. “If you’re talking about Spock, then yeah, he’s on the books. Could be a good little earner.”

Aaron bit down hard on his bottom lip. “He’s barely old enough to buy a fucking pair of scissors, and you’ve got him out on the streets when it’s below freezing! Another hour and God knows what would’ve happened!”

He could sense some of the boxers now turning to look at the argument brewing in the office, but he could take them. All of them, if he had to. He wasn’t letting this go. Ronnie ran a hand through his thick, dark hair and kicked the door shut, the slam making Aaron flinch despite himself.

“Well, aren’t you a regular Mary Poppins. Although, I’m not sure you should really be on that high horse considering the trouble you’re in-”

“This has nothing to do with me, this is about Finn. He’s a kid and you’re supposed to look out for him!”

“Right now, the only thing I’m gonna discuss is where you’ve been for the past week!” Ronnie hissed, the vein in his neck throbbing as he took a step forwards.

Aaron backed up immediately, the wall meeting him far too early, and he realised he had nowhere to go. He should have got Ronnie to come outside, because now he was trapped.

“Look, I should have said something sooner… I’ve found somewhere permanent to live, a mate’s putting me up and… I don’t need-”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t need me!” Ronnie growled, and it was the first time Aaron had ever seen him this angry at him before. “If I hadn’t taken you on, you’d be dead in some alleyway or hooked on heroin! So don’t you fucking dare turn your back on me now!”

Aaron smacked his head against the brick wall as Ronnie wrapped his fingers into the front of his hoodie, pushing him upwards till his feet were almost off the ground. He knew the chances were he was going to get a fist to the jaw, but that barely registered against the fear of not being allowed to leave. He couldn’t stay here, not now he had a proper home, not now he had Robert.

“I know what you’ve done for me-”

Ronnie grabbed his face, gripping hard until Aaron was sure he could hear his cheekbone cracking.

“I gave you a fucking life, and don’t you forget it. You don’t walk out on me, you understand? You’re still just a puppy, Aaron, and if I have to kick you into line then I will.”

Puppy. It still had the ability to make him grimace, even now, after all this time. They all had their nicknames. Usually something simple which the clients could understand - a way to describe the boys on offer with just a word. And Aaron had been ‘puppy’ since the moment he’d arrived. Fuzzy beard, big eyes, soft and gentle and vulnerable. But more than anything, Aaron had been obedient, and Ronnie had loved that.

“And don’t you forget that I’ve got plenty on you that could see you back inside," he countered, sounding much stronger than he felt. "I just want a fresh start, and as long as you let me walk out of here, I’ll have no reason to say anything to anyone.”

He’d never threatened Ronnie before, he wasn’t sure anyone had. People didn’t usually get much further than a raised voice with him before he had them knocked out cold. But this was Aaron, and he’d long ago accepted that he was unnaturally lucky when it came to ducking life-threatening danger, unless he was doing it to himself, of course.

“I’ll give you some credit, son. Not many would have the balls to say something like that to me,” Ronnie began, voice calmer now. But his eyes sparked like coal ignited, and Aaron knew this wasn’t the end. He could feel it, as if every nerve-ending in his body had suddenly been exposed.

“Maybe I trust you to make the right decision. You don’t need me. You never did. It’d be better for both of us if I was out of your hair.”

“So you’re doing me a favour, then?” Ronnie asked, grinning, as if what Aaron was saying was a joke. “Well, when you put it like that, I don’t see why I'd have a problem with you leaving. Go on, there’s the door.”

Aaron stayed still, not entirely sure what was going to happen if he made any kind of move towards the door. Ronnie had his back to him, counting out cash as if Aaron didn’t exist, but still he didn’t move. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure out what Ronnie’s game was, but he couldn’t seem to find an answer.

“That’s it?” he asked shakily, taking the most tentative of steps towards his escape route.

Ronnie didn’t turn. “Not sure we’ve got any other business, do we?”

Finn, Aaron thought, there’s still Finn.

“What about the boy? Finn? He’s pretty shaken up-”

“I’ll put it right. Don’t you worry about him,” Ronnie interjected, and there was a coldness to his tone which sent a shiver through Aaron’s body. But what else could he do? Finn was safe for now, probably in his room in the hostel, and Ronnie had promised to put it right. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

The guilt made him squirm but his fear at staying was stronger and so he slid round the corner of the desk, head bent low, and pulled on the door handle.

“Oh, puppy?” he heard Ronnie say just as he had stepped across the threshold. “Don’t expect a warm welcome when you come back with your tail between your legs.”

Aaron didn’t reply, didn’t say a word, just kept on walking and pretended that he couldn’t feel Ronnie’s dark eyes burning into his back.

It was gone four by the time he headed back towards Robert’s flat, hands shoved into the deep pockets of his hoodie to keep out as much of the bitter cold as was humanly possible. He’d wandered round town for hours, gone into one of those dodgy phone shops on the high street to see if his mobile was salvageable, only to be told that it had died a death long ago. He had ditched it in a bin, but kept the sim, only because he knew Finn had his number and he wanted to make sure he could still get in touch. His conversation with Ronnie was still running on a loop in his head, and the message had been clear - he was out now, no matter what happened in the future. So if he messed things up with Robert, he’d have nowhere and no one to run to. The thought should probably have scared him more than it did, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t a little relieved to be out of Ronnie’s clutches. Before, when he’d had nothing, having Ronnie looking out for him had felt like he was protected. But things were different now. And as long as he patched things up with Robert, then his future was still secure.

He typed in the code for the door and headed up the stairs, avoiding the lift as he’d already been in one confined space today and he didn’t fancy another. He took a minute once he reached the top floor to steady his breathing, leaning back against the wall to try and force himself back into the present, rather than still trapped inside Ronnie’s dark office.

The flat was warm and bright as he stepped inside, wide and open compared to the damp coldness of the boxing club, and Robert was sat on the couch, immediately standing up when Aaron entered.

“Finally! Where the Hell have you been?”

Aaron shook his hair, a spray of water fanning out against the wall, and wiped his face with the sleeve of his jumper. He felt exhausted, the temptation to collapse onto his bed overwhelming, but he stayed standing, every muscle in his body rigid and defensive.

“Out. Why?”

Robert folded his arms across his chest. “I came back and you weren’t here.”

“And? I don’t have to tell you my every move, do I?”

“No… But a text would have been nice.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, his fingers curling round the sim card in his pocket. “I don’t have a phone.”

Robert stared at him, disbelieving. “You don’t-? You’re a rent boy, how can you not have a phone?”

Aaron felt the hairs on his neck rise up, and his jaw locked in anger. Obviously his confession the night before had gone in one ear and out the other. “Yeah, well, it got a bit damaged. That can happen when you’re run over by a fucking Audi.” His words splintered with barely-contained rage, fingers curling into fists by his sides. Finn’s pale face was still burned into his memory, and Ronnie’s voice was echoing in his ears. He didn’t need this shit right now.

Robert registered his mistake, green eyes widening before dropping to the floor. “Sorry. I’ll get you a new one.”

“Don’t bother.”

“It’s fine. You need a mobile. I’ll head into town tomorrow-”

“I said don’t bother!” he snapped. “I don’t want you to keep buying me things.”

There was a frozen pause, Robert’s mouth open as if ready to say something, but his mind had juddered to a halt.

“It’s just a phone, Aaron. It’s not that big a deal…” he began, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m in it up to my neck already with you, so it is a big deal. Everything you get me is a big deal.”

Another pause. Another questioning look. “You… you’re not in debt to me, Aaron. Jesus, I’m not a fucking loan shark! It’s just a gift, that’s all.”

Aaron shook his head, anger turning to frustration at Robert’s blindness. “They aren’t gifts, though, they’re charity. And I don’t need it. I’m doing fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Really fine. On your knees every other night sucking off some middle-aged closeted twat for ten quid a pop! Your life really is peachy!”

Aaron had shrugged off his hoodie to hang it on the radiator to dry, but his shoulders went rigid as he took in what Robert had said. God, he was such a bastard.

“I've already told you, I'm not doing that anymore. And even if I was, you're in no position to judge me! Fuck you, Robert,” he bit back, not wanting to think about his past right now.

“You already have, remember?” he immediately retorted, jaw sharp and eyes hard with resolution. They were both spoiling for a fight, then.

“Nah, mate, I don’t need reminding as it goes. I’m not the one who left without a word this morning, as if nothing had ever happened.”

Robert shook his head, taking a step forwards. “That’s not- I was late for work.”

“Bullshit,” Aaron snapped, because he’d had enough now and all he wanted was a bit of peace. “You didn’t want to face me. And that’s fine - not like it’s going to happen again, so better just to sweep it all under the carpet.”

He was turning now, heading for his room because his head was pounding and he needed some quiet.

“Aaron, wait.”

He stopped without thinking, as if he had no control over his limbs.

“You’re right. I left because I didn’t want it to be awkward… I’m an idiot, but you already know that. Look, can we just start again? Clean slate?”

Living with Robert was already a clean slate... it seemed a bit greedy to wipe it away for a new one already. But pressing the reset button had its appeal, pretending as if the whole of today had just been one long, terrible dream. No Finn, no Ronnie, no creeping dread that he wasn’t free of his former life just yet.

“And what does this clean slate look like?” he asked, his voice inflected with just a hint of flirtation. It was subtle, but Robert would pick up on it, he knew that.

The floor dipped behind him, he felt the sudden presence of someone close, and then two arms encircled his waist.

“Well, it starts with getting you out of these wet clothes.”

Chapter Text

Robert placed a soft kiss to the underside of Aaron’s stubbled jaw, nose pressed into the warm skin of his neck, and grinned as he heard Aaron groan beneath him.

“Piss off. I’m sleeping,” he grumbled, before hissing as Robert bit down on Aaron’s earlobe. “Bloody hell, Robert, what kind of a wake-up is that?”

“The kind you get when you’re being… unappreciative,” Robert replied, now straddling Aaron whose warm, soft body was writhing beneath him, wriggling to break free.

“If you think for one second that I’m going to-” He got no further, Robert planting a kiss against his lips just to shut him up. Aaron moaned, eyes screwed shut, before eventually parting his lips and giving in to Robert’s advances.

As mornings went, Robert could think of far worse ones. In fact, just yesterday he’d assumed that there would only be a slim chance of him ever sleeping with Aaron again, far less waking up next to him. But when his eyes had cracked open just after seven, there he had been, curled up in the foetal position with his face squished into the pillow, the scowl he wore all day still stubbornly etched into his face even as he dreamed. He had thought about leaving Aaron to sleep, but Robert had never been the most patient of people at the best of times, and Aaron’s lips had looked far too tempting to resist.

They ended up kissing lazily under the covers for a good ten minutes, Aaron’s hand brushing against Robert’s bare thigh as their tongues lapped over each other. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this close with someone without it involving sex. And despite knowing he could quite easily become rock hard in three seconds flat if Aaron moved his hand any further towards his crotch, he also knew that he was more than happy for it to be just… this. The two of them, bleary-eyed and slightly bruised from the previous night’s activities, moulded together in every way imaginable.

“You gonna make me coffee?” Aaron mumbled into Robert’s neck once they had finally caught a breath.

Robert shook his head before pulling back to rest his elbows on either side of Aaron’s shoulders. “And what makes you think I’d do that? If anyone deserves to be made coffee this morning, it’s me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m an incredible shag and I woke you up this morning with a fucking good kiss. Plus, I always make you coffee.”

Aaron bit down on his lip but he was smiling, blue eyes wide and bright. “Well, you and I both know I was doing most of the leg-work last night, and I probably wouldn’t need coffee if you’d let me sleep in a bit longer. Plus, you make it better than I do.”

Robert knew full well that Aaron was only complimenting him so he’d get his own way, but he couldn’t help the grin which spread across his face.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to come through to the kitchen. I’m not bringing you breakfast in bed,” he said, clambering off of Aaron and sliding out from under the duvet. He shivered as the cool air snaked across his bare skin and he grabbed his t-shirt and boxers from the floor where they had been discarded hastily.

“Don’t get dressed on my account,” he heard Aaron mutter just as he was pulling the elastic waistband over his hips.

“Enjoying the view, are you?” he teased, turning his head slightly to see the look on Aaron’s face. Coy, that was the only word Robert could think of.

“Maybe.”

It wasn’t much of an admission, but it made his cheeks flush all the same, and he immediately shuffled through to the kitchen to avoid the tirade of abuse he would have suffered through if Aaron had seen. There was a cold, morning light draped across the wooden floor, bathing the room in an icy shade of blue, and Robert switched on the main light to make it seem a little less hollow.

It looked frozen outside, the perfect day for huddling up in the warmth, and Robert glanced across to his bedroom where he could just see Aaron now sitting up in bed. He grabbed two cups from the dishwasher and put one under the coffee machine, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He was just about to switch it on when the phone started ringing, making him jump out of his skin. He exhaled sharply, trying very hard not have a mild heart attack, and picked it up.

“Hello?” he said, his voice coarse.

“Guess what I’m doing?” came Vic’s voice through the phone, and Robert was so taken aback that he just stood for a moment, the cogs in his mind juddering to a halt.

“Rob, you there?”

He shook himself out of it, trying to regain some semblance of composure despite still feeling a bit numb with shock.

“Yeah, I’m here. And… I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me,” he replied hesitantly, now pressing the ‘americano’ button on the machine and leaning heavily against the worktop.

“I’m driving. Want to know where I’m going?”

He gave a soft smile, enjoying the eagerness in her voice. It had been far too long since he’d heard her sound so happy.

“Go on.”

“I’m taking signs for a particular city, a city not far from the village… a city that just so happens to be where my brother is living.”

Oh God.

“Why- Why are you- Did we arrange something?” he stammered, wondering how it was possible that his sister could have scrambled his brain twice in the space of a few seconds.

“Nope,” she replied cheerily, “but Adam is in Huddersfield with Moira - something to do with cattle, don’t ask - and I thought to myself: why not visit Robert? He can show you the bright lights of Leeds. And you can meet the famous Aaron.”

No. No, you can’t. You absolutely cannot do any part of that.

“This is all a bit… sudden. I could be working today.”

“And are you?” Vic immediately replied. If he had any sense, he’d fire back with a ‘yes’ and that would be the end of it. But she sounded so excited, so much like the Vic he remembered from before everything turned sour, and he didn’t want to upset her.

“No, I’m working from home for the next couple of days,” he answered honestly, mentally kicking himself for the mess he’d just landed himself in.

“Great! Well, I’ll phone when I’m near. Give me the address and I’ll put it into the sat nav.”

Robert pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing as calmly as he could considering his sister was going to be standing in front of him within the next couple of hours. He gave her the address, repeating it twice because she wasn’t good at multi-tasking apparently and “don’t be so stereotypical, not every woman can juggle a hundred different things at once!”

“See you soon, big brother,” she called, and before he had a chance to reply, the line went dead and he knew she’d gone. He let the silence deafen him, his mind slowly taking in what had just happened. Victoria, his bubbly, over-excited little sister, was coming to his flat. Was coming to see him. Was coming to see Aaron.

He turned, trying to mask the horror on his face as he grabbed his steaming cup of coffee and swallowed the first bitter gulp.

“Everything all right?” Aaron asked, fingers raking through his dark, slightly ruffled hair as he shuffled out from the bedroom and boosted himself up onto one of the stools by the counter.

Robert licked his lips, not entirely sure how to respond, and pushed Aaron’s mug towards him. “That was my sister on the phone.”

“Oh yeah?” he said sleepily, taking a sip of his coffee and then wincing as it burned his tongue. “You two on better terms, now?”

“I think so. She’s… coming here, now.”

Aaron’s eyes flicked upwards, his half-asleep brain struggling to process the news Robert had just conveyed. It took him a few seconds, and then the slow realisation began to creep across his face, eyes bulging slightly and his mouth going slack. It might have been funny if Robert didn’t feel quite so nauseas.

“Coming here? Now?” Aaron repeated, almost as though he didn’t believe what he’d heard.

Robert nodded, taking another sip of his coffee. “Well, soon. She’s driving at the moment, didn’t bother to tell me she was coming before this second, otherwise I would have put her off. But this is Vic - you’d have a better chance of stopping a hurricane.”

“Right. Well, should I-? I mean… do you want me to… go?”

He sighed, partly because Aaron suddenly looked so small and unsure of himself, and partly because Robert was desperate to say yes. The last thing he wanted was Vic coming in like the bloody Spanish Inquisition, shining a spotlight in Aaron’s face as she grilled him on everything and anything. It wouldn’t be fair on him. And, of course, there was also the tiny, insignificant detail of her not knowing anything about his predilection for both sexes.

“No, of course not. And anyway, she wants to meet you. It’s partly why she’s decided to take this spontaneous road-trip in the first place.”

He had Aaron’s full attention now, all traces of sleep vanishing from his suddenly alert expression. “She wants to meet me? Why? What have you said?”

“Nothing!” Robert exclaimed. “She knows you stay here, and that’s about it. But she’s nosy, and she loves nothing more than getting into other people’s business, especially when it’s her family.”

“Right. Right, okay… So, how is this going to work, exactly?”

It was a good question, and not one Robert had formulated an answer for. “As far as she’s concerned, you’re a mate who needed somewhere to stay, and I just so happened to have a spare room going begging. I suggest we keep the story as simple as that.”

The reaction was fleeting, there only for a second before receding, but Robert caught it all the same, even if he had no clue how to define it. There was no obvious change, just a twitch of his mouth, a tension in his previously loose muscles, a lowering of his eyes. They were all signs that Aaron wasn’t happy.

“You got a better idea?” he enquired, trying to keep his tone light despite the nerves coiling tightly in his belly.

Aaron made that face which Robert hated - the one where he sucked in his lower lip and seemed to be shrugging without actually lifting his shoulders. “She’s your sister. If you think lying to her is for the best, then we’ll do that.”

“We’re not lying.” Robert immediately responded, and Aaron gave him a look which basically said ‘are you being serious?’

“Ok, we’re keeping a couple of details from her, but she’d never let it drop if she knew how we’d really met. Do you honestly think she’d be all right with knowing I almost ran you over? Or that I took you back to my flat after some guy you’d been planning to fuck kicked you out of his car?”

Aaron visibly flinched and Robert knew instantly he’d put his foot in it.

“No, when you put it like that, I suppose it wouldn’t,” he said, teeth grinding together.

“I’m sorry. Look, she means well, she does, but this would just open up a can of worms if we told her the truth. Better to keep it simple, that way we can keep her out of our hair.”

“So I’m a lodger, then?”

“You’re a friend,” he corrected, hoping to appease Aaron at least a little.

He nodded, draining the last of his coffee. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Blue eyes darted up to meet his questioning stare before flicking back down again. “The last thing I want to do is put my foot in it, so you better tell me exactly what she knows about you… or doesn’t know.”

The penny dropped. “If you’re asking me whether she knows I sleep with guys, then no, she doesn’t.”

“And you’d prefer it to stay that way?”

“If it’s all the same to you, yeah.”

He smiled, but it was sharp and mocking and Robert felt his gut twist painfully. “Like I said, she’s your sister. If you’re happy lying to her, then I’ll go along with it.”

“I’m not happy about it, I just think it’s for the best,” he snapped. He wasn’t going to have an argument, not now, not when his sister would be here soon. She wasn’t going to arrive when they were in the middle of a domestic.

“For you,” Aaron muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for Robert to hear.

“Yes, for me. And for you.”

“Mate, I came out years ago, I don’t have a problem with people knowing I’m gay.”

He tried not to let the word ‘mate’ get under his skin but it did, and it stung. “I don’t mean about that. Listen, if she even suspected we were… well, you know, she’d never let up.”

“She cares about you. Not sure you should be complaining about that.”

“I’m not,” he growled, the anger flaring for a second before ebbing again. There was no point in them fighting, especially over this. It wasn’t worth it. “Look, Aaron, I just don’t fancy telling her the ins and outs of my private life, all right?”

The change of tact worked. Aaron’s face softened minutely. “Yeah, all right. Suppose I should jump under the shower, make myself presentable.”

“Mind if I join you?” The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think it through.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, mulling over the idea, before yanking his t-shirt over his head and shuffling off towards the bathroom. Robert waited, wondering if he was supposed to go after him.

“You coming or what?” he heard Aaron yell from down the corridor and he laughed, following after him with a stupidly big grin on his face.

“I should have known you’d end up somewhere like this,” Vic said as they stepped out of the lift. She’d phoned him half an hour ago to say she’d taken a wrong turn, which meant Robert had had to stand at the end of the street, Aaron’s hoodie wrapped around him for warmth, waiting for her to double back on herself. When she’d got out of the car, they’d both been unable to keep from smiling, and his arms had instinctively encircled her tightly before he’d led her towards the glass and steel building behind them.

“Not sure that sounded like a compliment,” he replied, opening the front door and letting her enter first. He could already see Aaron’s bedroom door was firmly closed, and wondered if he was going to hide in there until Robert was forced to drag him out.

“Not sure it was meant as one,” she teased, stopping in the middle of the living room to take in her surroundings. “God, Robert, this place is amazing.”

“It does the job,” he replied with a shrug, but her awestruck expression gave him a small measure of pride. It felt good, her being impressed with him, especially when he was so used to her disappointment.

“You gonna give me a tour, then?”

“Not much to see. Kitchen, living-room, my bedroom down the corridor, bathroom…”

“Aaron’s room?” Vic probed, and Robert sighed because he’d known it was coming.

“Just there,” he said, pointing towards the door nearest the kitchen. She turned, eyes flicking over it before immediately facing him again.

“Is he not in?” Her voice was hushed, and he smiled, because she had honestly never looked more adorable and because he had missed her much more than he would ever admit.

“He’s getting changed,” he explained, although truthfully, Aaron had already got dressed an hour ago after they had finished up in the shower. The image of Aaron’s naked body, drenched in water, pushed up against the tiled wall as Robert claimed his mouth, suddenly assaulted his mind and he had to actively focus on the dirty dishes in the sink just to distract himself.

“And everything’s going well, is it?” she asked, now punting herself up onto one of the stools. Robert went round to the cupboard and grabbed two mugs, knowing instinctively that his sister would be dying for a cup of tea. He switched on the kettle before turning back to her.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Because the last time we spoke, you had something to apologise for. You said you’d been an idiot.”

He’d almost forgotten about it now. He had been an idiot, but it was all water under the bridge. So much had happened since then.

“We’re fine. It’s all sorted.”

“Glad to hear it,” she replied, seeming sincere, and he poured the boiling water into the mug before grabbing the milk from the fridge.

“Just a dash,” she reminded him and he smiled, pouring the tiniest of splashes into her tea before handing it over.

“And what about you? The novelty of married life still hasn’t worn off yet?” he asked, now leaning against the counter and wiggling his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“We’re very happy, thank you. Adam’s a bit stressed with the farm, though. It’s not what he wants to be doing, not really, but it’s hardly like he’s got a lot of options.”

“No, not with his record,” Robert chimed in before giving Victoria an apologetic glance when she glared at him.

“It was one mistake, and he was young. We’ve all done stupid things at that age.”

He knew what she was saying, or not saying as was actually the case. But at least he’d never ended up in prison for anything he’d done, even if that was pure luck on his part.

“Pretty hefty mistake, though. Arson is one thing, but attempted murder-”

“It was not attempted murder, and you know it. He wasn’t thinking straight. His dad had just died, he was all over the place.”

“Yeah, well, I still don’t see why you got together with him,” he grumbled, and this time he didn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Adam was a waste of space, intent on moping around because life hadn’t turned out exactly as he had planned, and Vic pandered to him. Sometimes she seemed more like his mother than his wife.

“And all your relationships have been totally functional, haven’t they?” she retorted, although there was no bite to her words, and he knew she wasn’t being serious. Well… not completely, anyway.

“Fair point,” he conceded just as Aaron appeared in the doorway, hair soft and towelled dry.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Robert automatically responded, skin prickling with nerves as his heart began to beat a little more erratically. He was also very aware of the bruise on the side of Aaron’s neck and ignored the heat rising to his cheeks.

He caught Victoria staring at him, green eyes wide and expectant, and realised what she was waiting on. “Aaron, this is my sister, Victoria. Vic, this is Aaron.”

Aaron looked severely uncomfortable, arms rigid by his sides as he forced a smile. Vic, on the other hand, looked like she was about ready to burst with happiness.

“Finally, I get to put a face to the voice,” she said, trying and failing to rein in her excitement. Robert rolled his eyes and gestured for Aaron to take a seat, who pulled out the one furthest from Vic. Robert tried not to take it as a sign of things to come.

“So… My brother has been his usual unhelpful self, hasn’t told me a thing about you-”

“Vic,” Robert interrupted, trying to keep his tone light but already feeling his stomach free-falling. He could see it was having a similar affect on Aaron, who had shrunk so far into himself he was in danger of disappearing altogether.

“I’m just saying!” she exclaimed, still smiling as if all this was a big joke. But it wasn’t. They were on thin ice, and the more she probed, the more danger there was of it cracking beneath their feet. “It’s not a crime to know a bit about who my brother is living with, is it?”

Robert bit down on the inside of his cheek, wanting to yell at her but knowing that would make things ten times worse. He glanced at Aaron who had now slid off his seat and was shuffling round to the other side of the counter to pour himself a glass of water.

“What would you like to know?” he asked Vic, taking a long gulp before placing the glass down beside Robert. He seemed noticeably more confident than a second ago, looking her dead in the eye, and the corner of his mouth was lifted into an almost-smirk. There was something about his expression, the way he was standing, everything about him, which was completely unfamiliar. He looked… cocky. He looked like Robert.

Even Vic seemed slightly taken aback, but composed herself quickly, delighted to have been given permission to ask questions.

“Well… anything, really. How did you two meet?”

Robert felt like smacking his head off the hard granite, but Aaron just seemed to smile more. Was he enjoying this or something?

“Funny story, really,” he said, placing his elbows on the counter and leaning forwards. “It was a couple of months back - I was minding my own business, just crossing the street, when your brother came screeching round the corner in that car of his and almost knocked me over.”

Robert practically choked, wondering what the Hell Aaron was playing at, considering they had only agreed a couple of hours ago to not tell Vic any part of this particular story. Obviously, Aaron had other ideas.

“Oh my God, were you hurt?” Vic asked, giving Robert an incredulous glance which mirrored his own look of absolute horror.

Aaron shook his head. “No, he saw me in time. Offered to drive me home, which was pretty decent of him considering he didn’t know me. But I said I was fine, no damage done.”

“And… what? You kept in touch after that?”

Robert was waiting with bated breath, completely clueless as to how Aaron was going to spin this.

“No, we went our separate ways. Didn’t think I’d ever see him again. But then a couple of days later, I’d just finished work and I was waiting for a bus home, and who drives passed?”

“Robert!” Vic exclaimed, now smiling.

Aaron grinned, eyes dancing with… something which Robert couldn’t put his finger on, and nodded. “He offered me a lift again, and this time I agreed. We got chatting in the car, turned out he wasn’t such a bad guy if you ignored the fact he was a shit driver, plus we even had some things in common. And that was that. Bit of a boring story, really.”

Vic shook her head, blowing furiously on her tea. “No, it’s not! It’s sweet. So how did you end up living with him?”

It would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but Robert saw the minute shift of Aaron’s posture, the tenseness inching back into his muscles, and it was almost a relief, because, up until that moment, Robert had started to wonder if he was the only one feeling like he was barely keeping his head above water.

“Aaron split up with his boyfriend a couple of weeks back, and he didn’t have anywhere to stay, so I asked if he wanted the spare bedroom,” he cut in, the panic making his voice rise an octave higher than normal.

Vic raised an eyebrow, turning back to Aaron. “So you’re… gay?”

Aaron nodded, now looking at Robert with a slightly bemused smile. “Yeah, I am. The break up hit me hard and Robert was a real rock - couldn’t have got through it without him.”

He was trying to rile him, Robert was sure of it, winding him up in front of his sister to see how long it would take before he went off on one. Robert wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or slam him against a wall and kiss him. Neither, he imagined, would go down well with his sister.

“Well, that’s what friends do, don’t they?” he replied, emphasising the word ‘friends’ because he felt Aaron needed reminding of that fact.

“It doesn’t sound much like you, to be fair,” Vic chimed in, and Robert had almost forgotten she was there. He turned, giving her an insulted look.

“I told you I’d turned over a new leaf.”

“I suppose you did,” Vic admitted, looking between them as if she was desperately trying to read between the lines. Robert wondered if she had sensed the palpable friction between them, the pulse of electricity which seemed to thrum around them whenever they were close by. He could feel it now, coursing through his veins, sparking under his skin, and Aaron was giving him this look, as if daring him to do something.

Robert turned back to his sister. “Thought we could go out for some lunch if you fancy it, or we could order something in?”

Vic snapped out of whatever she’d been thinking and slumped a little in her seat. “Do you mind if we do a takeaway? I’m knackered from all that driving.”

“Yeah, sure. We could get something from the Thai place-”

“They don’t start delivering until tea time,” Aaron reminded him, and that look was still there, burning fiercely behind his blue eyes.

“We could collect,” Robert said, his voice hesitant because he was beginning to understand what Aaron was getting at, but he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

“If you order, I’ll put on some shoes and head out and get it? You’ll have to come down with me… I can never get the keycard to work in the door,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips, and Robert could feel the ache of desire heavy in the pit of his stomach.

“Course,” was all he could manage, his mind having suddenly misted over. Aaron wanted him, on his own. And God knows Robert felt the same.

He hastily retrieved the menu from the board and got to work writing down what everyone wanted before dialling the number for the restaurant. Once he’d ordered, he grabbed the keycard from his wallet and followed Aaron out the door, shouting back to Vic that’s he’d only be a minute.

The silence was unbearable as they stood, inches apart, in front of the lift doors. When they eventually slid open, Aaron grabbed hold of Robert’s wrist and pulled him inside, not waiting for them to close before forcing their mouths together. He hit his head off the metal wall, the thud echoing around them, before he tangled his fingers in the front of Aaron’s t-shirt, yanking him closer. Their tongues battled against each other, both wrestling for control as Aaron tipped his head back and deepened the kiss. Robert lost himself in it, head spinning and mind racing, the two of them flush against each other as they stumbled into the corner of the lift.

“What were you playing at in there?” he hissed once they eventually broke apart, his mouth still tingling from that searingly hot kiss.

Aaron’s eyes sparkled under the lights, and his red lips quirked into a smile. “Scared I was going to tell your little sister about us, were you?”

“She knows something’s up.”

Aaron shook his head just as the lift hit the ground floor. “She doesn’t know anything, and if she does, that’s down to you. You couldn’t have looked any shiftier if you tried.”

“I don’t like lying to her.”

“But you don’t want to tell her we’ve been fucking either,” Aaron immediately retorted, eyes dropping to Robert’s lips as he said it. The lift doors opened and Robert was almost tempted to close them again so they could pick up where they'd left off.

“Think that should be between you and me. And when did you get so good at improvising, by the way?” he asked instead, stepping out into the lobby.

“Caught you off guard, did I?”

Robert grinned. “Something like that. Well, I suppose I should help you with the door, considering you couldn’t manage it yourself. It’s funny, that, you’ve never mentioned having any problems with it before.”

Aaron shrugged, giving him that same cocky look which had Robert going slightly weak in the knees. “Suppose I just wanted a helping hand this time. And that’s what friends are for, right?”

Robert didn’t answer, just swallowed hard and watched as Aaron whipped the keycard from his hand and swiped it easily against the side of the door.

It was gone three by the time Robert walked Vic out to her car, noting with some amusement that she’d managed to park it diagonally across two spaces. He said nothing, deciding that his usual brotherly teasing would resume once he was surer of his footing.

“Rob… I’ve been meaning to ask you something-”

“Is this about Aaron?” he interjected, not wanting to be asked anymore questions about the ‘nature of their relationship’ as Vic had so eloquently put it when Aaron had gone to the loo.

“No. No, it’s about you. Well… not just you. I mean, yes, it is about you, but…”

“Vic, why don’t you just spit it out?”

She sighed, fishing the keys from her handbag and avoiding his gaze. “I was wondering when you were planning on coming home?”

Of all the things she could have said, that was the last thing he had been expecting. “What?”

“I know you’re not happy, Robert. I know you miss your family, and the village. And I’m not saying it’d be easy, but it’s not going to get any better until you… face things.”

“I am happy, Vic. You have to stop worrying about me-”

“You’re coping, but you’re not happy. I know you, Rob, I know when you’re hiding things from me.”

Of course, she wasn’t wrong. He was hiding things from her. He had been his whole life. In fact, sometimes Robert thought the only thing he was any good at was pretending. Pretending to be straight. Pretending that he wasn’t lonely. Pretending that he didn’t miss his old life, the one he’d managed to mess up so spectacularly.

“And what do you think Andy would say if I came back?”

“Oh, he’d be fine,” she said, her voice too light to be believed. “Well, he wouldn’t, but that shouldn’t stop you. You need to be back home, and those flats Rakesh developed have just gone on the market and I’m sure it’d be perfect for you.”

She seemed so hopeful, and he hated the idea of letting her down again. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out.”

“Just think about it, will you?”

But he couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t. “Vic, I know you mean well, but I’m fine here. Really, I am. And there’s Aaron as well…”

“Yeah, but he’s only going to be staying for a little while, right? And then you’ll be back on your own, and I hate the thought of you staying here by yourself. Especially when you don’t have to.”

The idea of Aaron leaving was not something he’d actually considered. Even now, the thought of it seemed impossible. Especially now.

“Well, if I moved into one of these flats, I’d still be on my own.”

“No, because you’d have me only up the road, and Diane. Just promise me you’ll think about it?”

“All right. I’ll think about it.”

She gave him a warm smile, the kind that made him instantly smile back. “Good. Well, I’ll see you soon, then. And phone me, once you’ve had a chance to mull it over?”

“Ok,” he said, wrapping her up in a hug. She squeezed him tightly before releasing him and then slipped inside her car.

He stepped back, giving her room to turn the car around, and they waved at each other before she drove off. Robert stayed where he was for a few seconds longer, her words reverberating against his ears, and the seed of an idea now firmly planted in his mind.

Chapter Text

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him, really. Just that morning, Robert had been adamant about keeping them - whatever them constituted because he was damned if he understood it - a secret, that his sister knew nothing about Robert batting for both teams and didn’t need to. Aaron had accepted it - it wasn’t as if he’d never slept with a guy still so firmly in the closet he was practically having tea with Mr. Tumnus. But accepting it when it was just a theoretical, and then actually seeing it with his own two eyes, was very different.

Despite their three-second carnal make out session in the lift - a moment he was still far too proud of considering it was a consequence of built-up frustration and hurt - most of the day had been spent with a bus-shaped gap between them. Robert had taken to almost hiding behind his sister in a bid to avoid being anywhere near Aaron. And any time he’d tried to chime into the conversation, show he was putting in some effort, Robert had ignored him or batted back with a one-syllable response. It had driven him to the point of insanity, so much so he had excused himself to go to the bathroom and had spent ten minutes fighting back the urge to punch a hole through the wall. The only reason he hadn’t done just that was the idea of then explaining it to Robert’s sister, and her subsequent conclusion that her brother was living with a head-case.

What got to him more than anything was how genuinely lovely Victoria was. Smiling every few seconds as if she couldn’t help herself, chatting to him as if they’d been friends for years, playfully teasing Robert until he blushed crimson. She was nothing like what he’d expected, especially given her brother’s comment about her being as unstoppable as a hurricane. The reality was, Victoria was just incredibly genuine, and Aaron couldn’t quite believe that she was in any way related to Robert.

He heard the familiar thud of footsteps just outside and glanced across to his room from where he was sitting by the counter, wondering if he still had time to make it safely there before Robert entered. He was still weighing up his options when the door handle turned and Robert stepped inside, mouth twisted slightly into an almost-frown, as if he was still unsure about how terrible he currently felt. Aaron turned his face just so he could roll his eyes.

“She get off all right?” he asked eventually, having counted from five to zero as a way of calming the flare of anger sparking inside his chest.

Robert stood awkwardly, green eyes burning holes into the floorboards, obviously not listening to a word Aaron had just said.

“What?” he asked after another few seconds of staring at nothing, head jerking upwards as if he’d only just realised Aaron was there.

“Nothing. Doesn’t matter,” Aaron bit back, having failed miserably to hide the irritation in his voice. He couldn’t even properly explain what was eating away at him. Yes, Robert had been a tool all day, but that was hardly a major revelation. And he’d warned Aaron already about keeping what they were quiet. He knew before Vic had arrived that they wouldn’t be snuggling up on the sofa or holding hands. They didn’t do that even when they were alone! But the memory of Robert unable to even look in Aaron’s direction was still mocking him, reminding him that he could only be loved in the shadows, that he was only worth something when he was on his knees.

Robert shrugged out of his jacket and draped it across the back of the chair. He looked tired all of a sudden, as if his sister’s visit had drained him, and Aaron caught himself before he felt anything close to sympathy for him.

“Sorry. For her, I mean. She can be a bit… intense,” Robert muttered, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms behind his back.

Aaron marvelled at how oblivious he was, how utterly fucking stupid he could be, and the embers in the pit of his stomach were stoked just a little brighter, a little hotter.

“She was fine,” he replied, knowing his meaning would be entirely lost on Robert but not caring either way.

“I’m not sure why she always wants to stick her nose in,” Robert carried on, the confirmation Aaron had neither wanted nor needed that his opinions simply weren't important enough to be listened to. “Some kind of predisposition, I suppose. Making sure I haven’t completely destroyed my life.” It was said as a joke, Robert’s mouth upturned into a smile, but it only served to make Aaron’s anger sizzle more.

“All I saw was her caring about you.”

Robert gripped the back of the chair, chin dropping to his chest as he sighed. “Yeah, she does. I know she does. But she doesn’t half act like my mother, sometimes. Maybe that’s it, really. Maybe she feels the need to take on the responsibility, to guide me onto the right path.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when she always thinks she knows best, and won’t listen even when you try and tell her… Sorry, I’m ranting. I’ll stop. It’s just sometimes she does my head in.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Vic had been nothing short of perfect and she didn’t deserve to be slagged off by her brother.

“Stop being such a prat, Robert. She’s your sister and she’s looking out for you,” he snarled, hands curling into fists as Robert straightened himself, green eyes narrowing as he processed what he’d just heard.

“What?” he asked, his tone halfway between incredulous and defensive.

Aaron shook his head, turning his gaze back towards the granite worktop. “You heard me.”

“Look, don’t start, all right? You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know she wants the best for you, and I know you’re a selfish prick who’d rather complain about the one member of his family still willing to put up with him than actually listen to what she has to say.”

“And this is your business, because?”

He was being vicious now, reminding Aaron of his place in all of this. And it wasn’t as though he could say anything back. He wasn’t family. He wasn’t anything. A nobody.

“No, you’re right. Nothing to do with me. You made that perfectly clear today.”

Robert placed a hand over his eyes, jaw locked so tightly that Aaron swore he could hear his teeth cracking as they ground down onto each other.

“Jesus Christ, what have I done to you now? Can’t you leave off for one minute and stop being so bloody sensitive?”

It stung, and he couldn’t decide whether he hated Robert or himself more for the way his heart gave a violent jolt.

“Fine. I’ll just go to my room, shall I? And you can keep pretending like I don’t exist,” he hissed, now pushing himself off the stool as if to show Robert how serious he was.

“Look, this whole passive-aggressive thing you’ve got going on… I’d understand it if you were fifteen, but come on, mate-”

He scoffed, giving Robert a questioning look. “Mate? As if you weren’t over-compensating before!”

“Don’t do this. Don’t be like this,” Robert pleaded, reaching out an arm to try and hook around Aaron’s waist. He shoved him off.

“Oh, so you want me now? Now that your sister isn’t here? Now there’s no one to know about your dirty little secret?”

“What did you expect? Did you think I’d be jumping your bones with Vic still in the room? Aaron, this is ridiculous! I don’t even know why we’re arguing.”

“We’re not. I’m going to bed.”

“It’s not even four o’ clock!” Robert exclaimed, and he had a point. It was only just beginning to get dark out and if he went into his room now, he’d be there for the night. He wasn’t sure he could put up with that amount of solitary confinement, even if the alternative meant a continuation of his slanging match with Robert.

“Shows how much I don’t want to be anywhere near you, then, doesn’t it?”

He’d actually intended on saying something a little less loaded, but his mouth had never been very good at obeying orders. Robert said nothing, a silent defeat, despite the fact his eyes had a clear fuck you glint to them.

Aaron turned.

And was immediately stopped. His wrist was suddenly ensnared by Robert’s cold, lean fingers, gripping so tightly that there were ivory imprints beneath his fingertips. And he knew what was coming next. He wasn’t an idiot, and even if he was, Robert’s suddenly audible, rasping breath would have been hint enough. And despite also knowing he could break free from his grasp, slam the door in his face, show him how unaffected he was, the idea of having Robert’s tongue pushing into his mouth eclipsed everything else. It was a defect, not being able to deny himself the things he wanted no matter how much it might hurt him, but somehow that fault was so much more magnified around Robert. It was a sweeter pain, Aaron thought, and somehow easier to endure, like an addiction.

The anger was still there when he turned back, and there was barely a second of recognition before their mouths slammed together, Robert’s cheekbone like marble as it cracked off the side of Aaron’s face. He winced, but not enough to pull back, and in any case, their lips had parted already, tongues colliding. It was a battle, almost as if the argument was still ongoing, and Aaron dug his fingers into the back of Robert’s neck to pull him closer. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted Robert to feel the fury coursing through his veins, to understand that this wasn’t over, that he wasn’t finished hating him. He pushed them backwards until Robert hit against the counter, grunting into Aaron’s mouth as he raked his fingers through Robert’s hair, nails sharp and unsympathetic.

His muscles convulsed as he felt Robert’s cold hands slip under his t-shirt and press into his sides, yanking him even closer. It was all going too fast and too slow at the same time, like an inevitable car crash which Aaron could see coming even before the disaster struck. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want this to end with them having angry, bitter sex and then Aaron swallowing his pride and forgetting all about the things which had been left unsaid. His hands splayed across Robert’s chest to push him away, and a pained sound emanated from between Robert’s parted lips, still desperately trying to pull him closer. Aaron struggled against him before finally breaking free, heaving in a much-needed breath as he put more space between them.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, his lips still tingling.

“Funny, here was me thinking the exact opposite,” Robert batted back immediately, voice still a little hoarse and his hair rumpled from Aaron’s fingers. He looked devastatingly good, and it took an embarrassing amount of effort not to just give in and kiss him again. But Aaron was still angry, and it couldn’t just be masked by a quick fuck, even if it was a tempting option.

“Yeah, well, not sure what you think comes into it.” He had wanted it to sound vicious, barbed, but his voice was too tight and too weak for it come across. Robert lowered his gaze all the same, looking almost petulant as he pouted his still red, wet mouth.

“You really going to hold this against me? When there was nothing I could do?”

Aaron couldn’t decide what riled him more - Robert’s ‘holier-than-thou’ expression or his idea that being a dickhead was somehow out of his control.

“What do you mean: ‘nothing you could do’? I might as well have been invisible as far as you were concerned - and if you think that didn’t make Vic suspicious, then you’re dead wrong. She kept glancing between us, probably wondering the same thing I was.”

“Which was?”

“What the Hell you were playing at!" Aaron exclaimed, because surely that was obvious? "I get you don’t want her to know - either because you’re scared or ashamed or maybe you just like the thrill of keeping secrets. I don’t honestly care. But ignoring me was a stupid move, Robert, because if your sister didn’t suspect before, she definitely does now.”

This, at least, got a more measured response. Robert’s angular jaw softened, the creases in his forehead easing a fraction. “All right, I shouldn’t have blanked you. I panicked, I was sure she’d guess if we were-”

“What, chatting?” Aaron interjected, still not believing any of this bullshit. “You thought she’d really work it out just because we said more than two words to each other?” This time there was an edge to his voice, slicing through the tension like glass.

“No… Yes… God, Aaron, I don’t know! Vic knows me better than anyone and she can tell when I’m keeping something from her. I just figured it would be safer to… not give her ammunition.”

“Yeah, well now you’ve practically handed her a loaded gun.”

“It’s fine. She didn’t mention anything about it when I saw her out. Too preoccupied with convincing me to come back to the family home.”

It caught him so off guard that his anger dissipated for a moment like mist in sunlight. “What?”

Robert leaned against the dining table, arms folded across his chest. “Apparently I need to start building bridges. And that can’t happen unless I’m trapped in that bloody village, no doubt locked in a room with my brother until we hammer some sense into each other.”

“And what did you say?”

He gave a non-committal shrug, which only served to send Aaron’s heart beating a frantic rhythm. “I tried to convince her that I was fine where I was, but she has it in her head that I’m lonely and that I need to be with my family. I told her I’d think about it, mainly just to shut her up.”

“Oh. Right.” His mind had all but shutdown, realising that his worst fear was coming true, that he was about to lose his future and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.

“The thing is, I do get it,” Robert continued, having not registered Aaron’s trembling voice. “She wants us all back together, like we used to be… although, to be fair, Vic’s always had a skewed memory when it comes to our family. We’ve never been happy, not really. But she’s determined and…”

“You want to give her what she wants,” Aaron finished, feeling numb.

Robert smiled, now finally looking up to meet Aaron’s gaze. “Yeah, but I also know it would never work. Andy won’t ever forgive me, he can hold a grudge better than anyone. And Diane - my stepmum - has already taken his side, as always. I mean, even Vic has only just started talking to me again. What would be the point in going back to all that?”

“Still… they are your family.” He couldn’t feel anything now, the denial seeping deeper and deeper until he was frozen solid with it, unable to breathe.

“I know. And that’s the only reason I agreed to think about it.”

“Well… just let me know what you decide. I can pack up my stuff as soon as you want me out.”

It was like Robert hadn’t quite registered what his leaving would mean for Aaron, but now his head shot up, eyes wide with something resembling panic.

“That’s a bit premature-”

“I’m just saying, if you decide you’re leaving then it won’t take me long to get my things together. I can be out of your hair in less than a day.”

Robert’s mouth twisted into something resembling a smile, but which was far too cruel to be classed as such. “God, it almost sounds like you’re itching to leave.”

His ignorance was so fucking offensive that Aaron had to take a moment to breathe just so he wouldn’t lunge across the room and lamp him. It went to show, really, how little Robert knew him, despite the fact Aaron knew everything there was to know about Robert. Then again, that was pretty much their relationship summed up - a complete imbalance.

“No, it’s been good staying here, and you’ve been generous about it. But I knew it wouldn’t be forever, so…” He was feigning nonchalance because if he even hinted at how much this revelation was affecting him, he would begin to unravel where he stood. And that would, by far, be the most pathetic thing he could do. He was stronger than that. Or he could pretend to be, at least.

“Right. Great, well, as long as you’re not fussed,” Robert practically snarled, brows furrowed in obvious confusion. He almost looked like he’d been betrayed, which might have been funny if it wasn’t so ironic.

“Exactly. I mean, you’ve got a whole family waiting for you. You’d be mad to turn that down.” He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, or why he was saying it. He was practically forcing Robert into going, goading him into accepting his sister’s offer. That oh-so-familiar self-destruct button was flashing red and his thumb was hovering just above it, ready to press.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” he countered, but the last word wavered ever-so-slightly and he prayed to God that Robert hadn’t heard it.

“Well, I suppose you’re right. Vic needs me, she said as much, and I won’t ignore that. In any case, I’ve been here too long, really. Maybe it’s about time I faced the music.”

“Sounds like you’ve made the decision, then.”

Robert glanced up at him, shoulders lowering in either acceptance or defeat. “Suppose it does.”

“I’ll clear out tomorrow-”

“You don’t have to do that. I won’t be going for ages,” Robert cut him off, now pushing himself off the table and taking a step forwards.

“Better I leave as soon as possible, find somewhere else to stay,” Aaron explained, his chest collapsing in on itself, ribs digging painfully into his thudding heart. God, he felt like he was going to be sick with loss.

“Well, if that’s what you want.”

How can you be this blind? How can you honestly not see what you’re doing? Aaron thought, and the desperation to just scream rose inside him, engulfing everything else.

“Yeah, this is what I want,” he bit back, and the tears were there, pricking behind his eyes. He wanted to run, to hide from this nightmare which mocked him for having been so naive, so trusting. This is what you get, it said, this is what you deserve.

Robert seemed to be battling against himself, restlessly shifting from one foot to another as he just stared at Aaron. “Well, Jesus, you’re the one who’s practically twisted my arm on this! What are you saying now, that I’m making the wrong choice?” he exclaimed, voice too loud in the suddenly claustrophobic space.

“It was never going to be a choice…” Aaron murmured, but broke off before he could say anything else, not trusting his voice enough to carry on. He was shattering at the core, and soon the fractures would be visible even to Robert’s eyes.

“Aaron-” His name on Robert’s tongue, and the softness in his voice as he said it, was enough to have him splitting at the seams, the joins which kept him whole unravelling at such speed that he was unsure how much longer he could stand, far less speak.

“It wasn’t a choice,” he pushed on, ignoring Robert’s protestations. He was slipping now, the barriers falling away and leaving him far too exposed. “It wasn’t a choice… cause there’s no way you would ever have chosen me.”

A moment. Just a moment of understanding and then Aaron saw it, the confirmation he’d never sought but could blatantly read behind Robert’s eyes. He almost looked ashamed of himself, for being so transparent, and Aaron hated him, too. He hated him for being so generous in the beginning, for being so kind when there had been no one else, for raising his hopes too high. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him, and now he was free-falling into the unknown.

“We don’t have to decide anything now,” Robert began, tentative, gaze directed towards the floor, hands shoved into his pockets. The shields were up again, both of them guarded against the inevitable. The car was crashing now, he could feel the fear paralysing him, except he was the one not wearing the seatbelt. He was the one with nothing to hold onto, nothing to save him.

“It’s already been decided. You’ll move back home, and I’ll be back where I started. Like none of this ever happened.”

It tore at him, this idea that the last few weeks would be erased. Because this was the happiest he could remember being, and not just that: he’d found peace with himself, something he’d never known before. And now he was going to have it snatched away from, and pushed back out into the noise and chaos of reality.

“We’ll work something out.”

He sounded like a stuck record, playing on a loop, repeating the same words over and over as if it made any difference. They would still be here, three feet apart though it felt like miles, and the weight of all that was unsaid lying heavy in the space between them.

“I’ll stay tonight, and I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”

Robert was shaking his head, ready to say another version of the same line, but Aaron wasn’t having it. He couldn’t take it.

“Just leave it, Robert. Like I said, I’ll be gone by tomorrow, and we can put all of this behind us.”

The finality of the words seemed to wind them both, and the silence was agony, much more so than the bitter words they’d exchanged minutes before. There was nothing else they could say, nothing to be done but go their separate ways.

It was nice while it lasted, Aaron thought as forced himself to move towards his room. Yeah, but that’s the problem, isn’t it? Because you never wanted it to end, another voice countered, and it was all that was required for the first tear to fall onto his cheek.

He’d been a fool, and now he was going to pay for it.

Chapter Text

There were only so many times it was possible to count the raindrops on the window before the balance from sanity to madness was tipped. Robert had reached that point about an hour ago, dawn’s opalescent light still stubbornly refusing to rise above the bleak, grey horizon as he traced the glistening rivulets against the glass. He’d somehow forgotten what it felt like - not being able to sleep, his mind too wired to even contemplate closing his eyes. Strange, really, considering it hadn’t been that long since he was driving around at two in the morning, simultaneously exhausted and restless. In fact, he’d been doing just that the night he met Aaron. Not that he could really class what happened as a ‘meeting’, but still…

He clambered back up onto his bed, grabbing his phone and grimacing as the screen blinded him before checking the time. Almost six. He’d barely gotten an hour’s sleep the whole night, Aaron’s words playing in his head like some sick lullaby.

It wasn’t a choice… cause there’s no way you would ever have chosen me.

There had been tears in his eyes as he’d said it, furiously fighting them back as his bottom lip trembled. He should have said something. Told him that it wasn’t that simple, that he didn’t need to make a choice, that he wanted to have both. That they would manage somehow. But Aaron had looked so defeated, so accepting of his fate, that he’d been incapable of replying.

Coward, he thought bitterly, and hit his head hard off the back wall, savouring the few clouded moments which physical pain brought. But then it diminished, and he was back with the same dread twisting inside him.

The worst part was, he did want to go home. Vic’s comment about him being lonely hit far too close to the truth - before Aaron, he’d been entirely devoid of any human contact outside work, other than the few one-night stands which he preferred not to dwell on for too long. And he wanted to make amends, if for no other reason than so he could be back in his family’s good graces. But despite his desire for familiarity, the nostalgic dream of returning to Emmerdale as the prodigal son, he had never for one moment imagined losing Aaron. It just hadn’t been part of the equation.

And now he had lost him. Or near enough. With each passing second, Robert came closer to being alone again, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it. Because even though Aaron had only been living here for a short while, his impact on Robert’s life had been absolute. He couldn’t even get a good night’s sleep anymore because there wasn’t the warmth of Aaron’s body to press himself against.

I’ll be gone by tomorrow, and we can put all of this behind us.

Except that wasn’t possible, was it? Because how could any of this be in the past when he’d barely got used to it being in the present? One day here, the next day gone. He’d never lived his life like that, he’d never let go of the things he wanted, not even when they were being ripped from him. He clung on, nails digging in, refusing to lose what he so desperately wanted to keep. And the truth was, he wanted Aaron. Whatever they had was new and strange and undefinable, but it was also real, and Robert wasn’t about to give in just because they’d hit a snag. And that’s all it was. A bump in the road, a hiccup which could easily be resolved. And after all, Robert was good at solving problems, especially if it meant getting his own way.

The sky was now a faded indigo, the landscape just a washed out, grayscale version of itself, leached of colour. But even from where he was sat on his bed, Robert could just make out the first vein of light pulsating brightly on the horizon. A new day, he thought and smiled, because that was all the encouragement he needed. There was still hope.

The flat was swimming in darkness, shadows merging with each other before sliding apart as he padded down the hallway, missing the patch of floor which always groaned ominously beneath his weight. There were no lights on in Aaron’s room, and Robert tried not to feel bitter that he was the only one who had been kept awake all night. It didn’t matter. In a few minutes, neither of them would have to worry, and then they could go back to the way it was before.

His skin began to prickle as soon as he eased the door open. Aaron’s room was murky and cloying, reminding Robert of a summer storm just before thunder cracked open the heavens. It was too dark to make out any decipherable features, just the general shape of a bed and the sleeping form curled tightly in on himself, the duvet pulled up over his shoulders. As his eyes adjusted, though, he was able to pick out the hard, unyielding lines of Aaron’s body, the taut muscles in his arm as he clutched the pillow against his cheek. A man holding on, just like Robert. It was a strangely comforting thought.

The bed dipped beneath his weight as he pulled back the corner of the duvet and slid underneath. The way Aaron was positioned meant it was impossible to lie comfortably, his hip balanced precariously against the hard seam of the mattress, digging in through his pyjama bottoms as he tried to manoeuvre himself closer. He could already feel the tension in his spine melting away as his bare chest skimmed against Aaron’s arm, enjoying the slight tickle of the soft, short hairs against his skin. He twisted further inwards, managing to avoid half-falling back out of the bed as he moulded himself to the solid plane of Aaron’s back, nose lightly pressed into his neck.

Exhaustion hung above him, and he felt himself let go a little, eyelids drooping as he battled against his weary mind. They were almost fully closed when he felt Aaron’s body suddenly tense, the muscles hard where seconds before they had been pliant. He waited, his arm hovering now above the duvet, as he felt Aaron register that there was someone behind him.

“Robert?” His voice was drowsy rather than sharp, confused rather than angry.

“Go to sleep,” he murmured into his shoulder, now letting his arm drop again.

Aaron made a small, bewildered grunt before twisting slightly to try and face Robert.

“What are you doing?”

“Go to sleep,” Robert repeated, voice slightly stronger this time as he pressed himself closer still. He didn’t want this conversation now, didn’t want to speak at all. He just needed to sleep, and to have Aaron sleeping next to him.

“Robert, you can’t. Go back to your own bed.”

He sighed, because apparently Aaron was more than ready to restart their argument. “No.”

“I don’t want you here,” Aaron whispered, but every movement was a betrayal of his words, contradicting the refusals still stumbling from his mouth. There was no edge to him now, no sharpness, and Robert gripped a little tighter, forcing Aaron to realise that he had no intention of going anywhere.

“I’m not leaving,” he said, though he was no longer talking about them being in bed together.

“Fine. I’ll go through to your room.”

Robert slid his arm under the covers and hooked it round Aaron’s wait, keeping him in place. “You’re not listening. I said I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

He smiled, because the message still wasn’t getting across, but it was about to.

“Aaron, I’m not leaving.”

Robert felt him go rigid in his arms, his entire body curling in on itself to protect him from whatever attack he thought was imminent. He was brittle on the outside, guarded and on-edge, but Robert could read him easier now they were flush against each other, and he knew that hardness was a shell, a barrier to keep others out and shield his too-soft heart from anymore damage. That was the raw truth of it, the bare bones which Robert had only just begun to see, because Aaron was in constant opposition with himself: soft contrasted against hard, dark pressed up against light, love fighting against hate.

He was a cataclysm of emotion, splintered and broken, but desperately attempting to patch up the worst of it just to keep going. Keep surviving. It was the only thing he knew how to do, and it’s what he’d done last night as well - nothing more than self-preservation. Robert had been too stupid to realise it then, but he could feel it now, and he pressed himself closer, showing Aaron that he had no intention of letting go in the near future.

“I don’t understand.” It was barely audible, but Robert heard it all the same, and he tucked his chin just over Aaron’s shoulder so his lips were against his ear.

“I’ve got no reason to move, so I’m afraid you’re just going to have to put up with me for the forseeable.”

Aaron felt softer now, but there was still tension in his jaw, along his back, his breath hitched and erratic. “But your sister… she’s the reason-”

“She was worried I was lonely, and I’m not now,” Robert interjected, his hand now splayed across Aaron’s chest. “And anyway, she’ll worry about me even if I’m right next door to her, so I might as well keep a bit of distance between us.”

“Robert, no… You should go and be near her, she’s your family.”

“Yeah, and you’re-” He stopped himself, then sighed. The exhaustion was making him far too loose-lipped and he pulled himself together. “It doesn’t have to be this difficult. We’re fine as we are, so we’ll stay here.”

“But, Vic…”

“Vic is a big girl and she’ll handle me not living three feet away from her.” He slid his hand down the flat plane of Aaron’s torso till it came to rest against his hip, thumb stroking the soft cotton band of his boxers. “I’m staying.”

There was an unbearable pause, fractured only by their shallow breaths, before Aaron turned a little so he could look over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yes. Now shut up, will you? Some of us need to get a bit of shut eye.” But he was smiling and he could sense Aaron was, too, both of them grinning into the darkness, safe in the knowledge that the other couldn’t see. Aaron placed a hand on top of Robert’s, fingers laced together for added reassurance, and within seconds Robert felt himself drifting off into a blissful sleep.

They didn’t wake up again until the back of ten, and then there was an hour or so of just enjoying being tangled together under the covers. Robert was still exhausted, but it was bearable now, and Aaron’s wet, hot kisses against the side of his neck was enough to have him more than awake.

They showered together, narrowly avoiding both of them cracking their heads off the glass door when a bit of conditioner dropped onto the tiled floor and Aaron’s foot went flying out from under him. Robert had doubled over laughing and had received a bash over the head with the shampoo bottle as Aaron cursed the cramped space they were occupying. Then they’d dipped beneath the jet of water, kissing until their lips were numb, and lazily stroking each other off until they both gave a low groan of pleasure and had to clean themselves all over again.

By the time they were even close to being decent, it was almost twelve and they were both starving, having missed breakfast completely for more… rewarding activities.

“Why don’t we go out? I’ll treat you to a slap-up meal, if you fancy it?” Robert suggested, having already glanced momentarily at the contents of the fridge and pulled a face at the lack of anything remotely edible. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually done a food shop.

Aaron smiled, soft and easy, and nodded in agreement. “Nothing too fancy, though. I’m not that into caviar.”

Robert rolled his eyes but said nothing, instead pulling on his leather jacket and chucking Aaron his Barbour coat. He was sure he had a darker green version of it, but for some reason it had gone walkabouts. Not to mention the navy anorak which had been hanging on the coat-rack…

“Ready?”

“Yeah, ready,” he replied, making a mental note to look for the two missing jackets once he was back.

They made their way down in the lift, Aaron’s hand brushing against Robert’s as the doors slid apart and they stepped out into the lobby. Robert was so distracted by the thrum of electricity shooting up his fingers that he barrelled into a guy standing just outside the doors. He was thick-set and muscled, head completely shaved, and Robert apologised twice because he didn’t fancy taking the guy on in a fight.

“No problem,” he’d replied, sounding as though he smoked forty-a-day, and caught the door just before it closed.

They ended up in a gastro pub not too far from the centre of town, where Aaron silently judged the ‘hipster looking’ beers they had on offer and Robert scoffed at the prices despite the portions being about the size of his hand. Still, as soon as they were settled and had made a hefty dent into their meals, a peaceful quiet descended over them, and Robert caught Aaron smiling to himself every now and again.

“We should do this more, you know. Eat out, days away, that sort of thing. We’ve barely left the flat this passed week,” he commented absent-mindedly as he cut into the final piece of his game pie.

Aaron’s blue eyes slid up to meet his gaze, looking slightly alarmed at the prospect. “What… like… a date?” he asked, swallowing hard and reaching for his beer bottle to take a long swig.

Robert hadn’t actually thought about it in that context, but he supposed that’s what it would be, broadly speaking. Technically, what they were doing now probably constituted a date as well. His gaze travelled the length of the room, surveying the cluster of people all eating and chatting together. No one was staring at them, no one was making assumptions. Or judging.

“Well, you know, I suppose,” he answered vaguely, deciding it was probably safer not to put any definite labels on anything. They weren’t boyfriends after all, it was just casual.

Aaron seemed satisfied and nodded, piling the last of his steak and chips onto his fork. He’d eaten the entire meal within ten minutes, and Robert was reminded again that this wasn’t normal for Aaron. Eating out, eating at all. His stomach clenched tightly and he felt the urge to lean across and place his hand over Aaron’s. He drained his beer bottle instead.

Once they were both finished, Robert paid the waiter a generous tip and then the two of them stepped back out onto the icy streets. A furious wind battered against them as they headed back towards the flat, and Robert shoved his hands into the cold, silk pockets of his leather jacket for a fraction more warmth.

They both agreed that a steaming cup of coffee and the heating of full blast was what was needed as they scanned the keycard at the door and headed for the lift. Aaron rubbed his hands together to bring some colour back to his pale skin, and Robert took them in his own, blowing hot air against his blue-tinged fingertips.

“You got to do any work today?” Aaron asked as they headed down the corridor towards the front door.

Robert shook his head, patting down his jacket in search of the keys. “I did it all at three this morning, when you were safely-”

The front door was open. Not unlocked, not ajar… open. Kicked in. Half the bolt had been ripped from the frame and there were score marks on the doorway which looked like they’d been made by a crowbar or something similar. Robert’s stomach plummeted and he hesitated before entering, wondering suddenly if the burglar was still inside.

“Stay here,” he said to Aaron, who had already gone three shades whiter as he took in the scenario before them.

He nudged the door further open with his foot and took a second to just stare at the carnage inside. The entire flat had been trashed. The sofas were upside down, great gashes clawed into them like some kind of animal attack, and the coffee table had been smashed, splinters of glass sparkling under the lights. But that was nothing compared to the back wall - the TV was practically split in half on the floor, and the entire wall was covered in red spray paint.

He wracked his brain, trying to work out who he could possibly have pissed off enough for them to do this. And what the Hell did the message mean?

“Oh God, Robert… I’m so sorry.”

He turned, his boots crunching over more glass, and saw Aaron trembling just inside the doorway, clutching a piece of paper, blue eyes shimmering with tears.

“Hey… what’s wrong? Aaron?”

He stepped forward, hand outstretched to take the crumpled note which Aaron had balled up inside his fist. He unfolded it, smoothing out the paper before reading the scrawled handwriting.

Sorry, puppy, but you don’t get to leave unless I say so. This is just a warning. Don’t make me come and get you myself.

Chapter Text

There was a sour taste in Aaron’s mouth as he exhaled sharply, a bitter aftertaste of the words now branded on his mind, burned into his memory so that he could almost feel each letter scarring.

Don’t make me come and get you myself.

Ronnie was coming after him. And he wouldn’t stop. Aaron knew that. He’d watched that man terrorise those so much more vulnerable than him, so much weaker. He’d watched him leach the fight from them, till they were just puppets caught in his strings. He’d do the same to Aaron, now, too.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

Robert’s voice was closer than he’d expected, and Aaron let his eyes flutter open for a moment, taking in his freckled cheeks and sandy lashes, the sharp slope of his jaw running parallel with the edge of his cheekbone. If he was brave, and if his skin wasn’t crawling, he might have reached out a hand to place it against the side of Robert’s face, stroke his thumb across his soft, pale skin, revel in the sensation of simply touching him.

He dropped his gaze, fingers tingling with desperation, and fought back a grimace.

“I’ve screwed up.” He forced the words out through bared teeth, throat so tight he could barely breathe. He had fucked everything up, and Robert had been the one to pay. And now he was going to lose him. He was going to lose him all over again.

“Look at me. Come on, Aaron, you need to talk to me. What’s all this about?”

Aaron’s eyes flicked to the note in Robert’s hand and he felt the acrid bile rise up inside him again. Why couldn’t he just be free of it all? Why did it keep dragging him back?

“Ronnie wants me back.”

“Ronnie? Who’s Ronnie?”

It was a good question, one for which there were many answers. Ronnie had been a guardian to him at one point, a friend at another, a jailer and abuser as well, if he was being honest with himself.

“My pimp,” Aaron replied instead, because Robert didn’t need to hear any more than that. His past was an abyss - stare too long into its dark heart and you could get lost forever. He had no intention of subjecting someone else to those brutal memories.

“All right… All right… so how does he know you’re staying here?”

Aaron shrugged, having been wondering much the same thing. “He must have followed me. We spoke a couple of days ago, when I told him I was finished with… all that. He’d been so angry but… then he’d just let me walk out. I thought it was done. I really thought…”

Robert was crouched low in front of him, and he curled his fingers round Aaron’s wrist, squeezing firmly. “It’s ok. Look at me… it’s going to be fine. He’s not gonna get to you.”

“How can you say that? Look at this place!” he exclaimed, gesturing to the broken furniture strewn around the flat.  

Robert’s gaze didn’t waver, still focused solely on him. “It’s just furniture. I’ll replace it, and then we can clear out.”

We. We can clear out. “What?”

“We can’t stay here now he knows where you stay. It’s not safe,” Robert continued, having obviously not realised what had provoked Aaron’s question.  

“But where will we go?”

Robert gave him a hesitant look, green eyes suddenly narrowed with concern, and it took him far longer than it should have to realise where this was going. No wonder Robert had been so unfazed by all of this. It gave him the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted - to go home.

“No,” Aaron said with just a little more edge than he’d meant to. But his mother’s face was now blinding him, followed by a spike of panic which jolted his heart like a charge of electricity.

“It’s the safest place to be right now. He’ll never think to look there.”

Except if Ronnie did follow him again, then he’d invariably be putting his whole family in danger. Not to mention that returning to Emmerdale meant facing the entire Dingle clan, his Mum especially, and that just wasn’t something he could do. How could he go back there and explain what he’d done in the past? They’d disown him on the spot.

“I’m not going.”

Robert sighed, his hand now removed from Aaron’s wrist, and he hated how much he missed it there, tethering him to reality. He felt in such danger of just drifting away, becoming lost again.

“Aaron, you don’t have a lot of options here. We need to leave.”

“You can. I’m not.”

Robert swayed backwards a little on his heels, hands now splayed across Aaron’s knees to stop him becoming off-balanced, and gave him an incredulous look. “Why?”

“Look, I get why you want to go. I don’t have a problem with it. I’m just saying I won’t be coming with you.”

“Because you’re that desperate to go back to him?”

Flashes of memory - the boxing club full of baying crowds and hardened men, the cramped back office where Aaron handed over his earnings without question, the pats on the shoulder followed by a punch to the ribs which he’d once believed was just another sign of affection - blurred his senses for a moment before he managed to pull himself back to the present. Unfortunately, the nausea remained, stirring low in his belly at just the idea of going back.

“Yeah, Robert, I really want to be back working for the likes of him,” he spat, venom dripping from every word. Or perhaps it was just fear.

Robert licked his lower lip, looking just slightly less sure of himself, and said: “Then what? I know it’s not the most exciting place to live, but…”

“Jesus, I don’t have a problem with living in the countryside!” he exclaimed. If only his problems were that simple.

“Then what is it?” Robert’s voice was sharp now, exasperated and losing patience. The distance had somehow increased between them, and Aaron wanted to pull him closer, to not feel anymore isolated than he already did.

“I just… can’t. I can’t go.”

Robert’s jaw set in a hard line. “Well, tough. You have to.”

It rubbed him the wrong way, being told what to do. It was all too close to the life he’d had before, where every choice was taken from him, every decision made over his head. Told what to do and think and feel, told how much he was worth, told where to put his mouth or his hands. Stay. Lie down. Quiet. Good boy.

“Not sure I have to do anything, mate,” he snarled, the shame burning in his chest.

Robert rolled his eyes, but he no longer looked like he was spoiling for a fight. He looked tired.“Brilliant. We’re back to being mates now, are we? Aaron, you’re not thinking this through. He’s obviously not going to stop, and God knows what he’ll try next. You can’t stay here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not arguing about this. We’re going, and that’s final.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Aaron.”

“I’m not going back there.”

Shit. Shit, fuck, shit.

Robert seemed to be replaying what Aaron had just said, snagging over the one word which didn’t fit. “Wait… what? Back where?”

A second jolt of panic, this time overwhelmingly strong. It sent his heart battering against his ribs, pummeling into them at such a speed he could barely breathe.

“Nothing. Forget it,” he muttered, eyes closed now to block out Robert’s questioning stare.

“Back where?”

The denial was on the tip of his tongue, another refusal to give in to Robert’s incessant questions. But he had so little strength for this, and part of him was desperate to just tell the truth. His shoulders slumped a little, his body admitting defeat already, and his mind followed right behind.

“Emmerdale.”

He didn’t need to look up to know Robert was staring at him, brows still furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

“My family lives there.”

The silence stretched out, straining like an elastic band as Robert worked over this sudden revelation.

“I thought… Who’s your family?”

He was almost there. One last piece left to give and then the jigsaw would be complete. “My mum’s Chas Dingle.”

He heard Robert scoff and finally dared to glance at him. He looked halfway between stunned and bemused. It could have been worse, Aaron supposed.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any family? The Dingles are half the bloody village!”

“I said I didn’t have any family that actually gave a damn, and that’s true. That’s why I’m not going back,” he shot back, another set of memories already inching their way out from the darkest corners of his mind. He forced them back. The last thing he needed to be reminded of right now was how little his family cared about him.

Robert seemed to notice the extra tension in his voice because he swayed forwards, his hand coming to rest on Aaron’s arm, warm and reassuring. “You have to, Aaron. You can’t stay here, not when this guy is after you.”

He was right. Ronnie wouldn’t give up, and he was only going to get more and more aggressive in his attempts to drag Aaron back. That didn’t mean the alternative was any better, though.

“I’ll be fine. I can handle him.”

Robert shook his head, leaning in a little closer so their eyes were level. “This is insane. I’m offering you the chance to get out of here, get as far from him as possible, and you’re refusing? God, I’m not surprised you’re a Dingle.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stubborn to the core. You know what, you and Cain would get on like a house on fire.”

Aaron could only vaguely remember his uncle, but he certainly remembered how terrifying he could be. “Well, I won’t be finding out, will I? Cause I’m not going.”

“Aaron-”

“I’m not going, Robert. I can’t…” He stopped, because there was no way he was going to talk about this, about how ashamed he felt, about how terrified he was of his family finding out. It was too painful already, without giving a voice to his fears.

“Look, Vic told me about these flats… they’ve just been finished, but they’re not in the village. Just outside, so you wouldn’t have to see your family if you really didn’t want to.”

Just outside the village. It was still so close, still such a risk. But he had to admit, the idea of staying with Robert, of being far away from Ronnie, had its appeal. But he couldn’t have them knowing he was back. He couldn’t see them.

“And what about your sister?” he asked, the tension in his muscles softening a little around the edges.

“What about her?”

“Robert, she’s going to tell someone that I’m living with you, and then-”

“She won’t. I’ll tell her not to. Aaron, it’s going to be fine, ok? You don’t have to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t want to believe him. He didn’t want to see the certainty in Robert’s eyes or hear the sincerity in his voice. But it was there, a safety net which had him relaxing despite himself. When had he suddenly started trusting Robert, even when his own instincts were screaming at him to run?

“All right. We’ll go,” he finally conceded, but his smile wavered a little at the end. “But I’m not seeing any of them, Robert. You have to promise me they won’t find out?”

“I promise.”

And there it was again. That confidence in Robert’s words, as if he somehow knew he was telling the truth. He’d never experienced it before, this level of faith in another human being, and it unnerved him.

Robert gave Aaron’s knee a grateful squeeze before he stood up and went to go check the bedrooms for further damage. Aaron watched him manoeuvre between the overturned table and broken sofa, picking up cushions as he went, before suddenly halting just as he reached the corridor.

“How did you know it was Emmerdale?”

The question was so sudden that Aaron had no time to think up any kind of answer. “What?”

He turned now, and his expression was somewhere in the realms of doubtful. “I never said the name of the village. How did you know?”

Oh God. Somehow, and he couldn’t even trace back the exact moment he had made the mistake, but somehow, he had inadvertently landed himself in a huge pile of shit. Robert continued to stare at him, restless with anticipation, and Aaron couldn’t think up a good enough lie.

“The picture of you and your sister… outside Keeper’s Cottage. I recognised it.”

Robert stepped forward now, and his cheekbones were shards of glass as his whole face tensed. “That picture is in a box under my bed.”

“Yeah, it is.”

There was an agonising second of Robert turning over the confirmation in his head before he stopped just in front of Aaron. “You went through my things?” he accused, his voice brittle.

Aaron sighed, attempting to stand on incredibly weak legs. His footing felt so tenuous now, as if one wrong move could have the floor collapsing beneath him.

“I was pissed off at you the morning you disappeared and left that stupid note for me. I wanted to get back at you.”

“So… rifling through my stuff was revenge, then?”

He opened his mouth to deny it but he couldn’t. It was the truth. “I’m sorry, Robert. I swear I only looked for a second, then I put it all back.”

The apology seemed to have some affect at least, and Robert ducked his head a little, pushing his hands into the tight pockets of his jeans. “And you didn’t think to tell me before? That your family live there?”

He shrugged, taking a tentative step forwards. “It didn’t matter. Neither of us stayed there anymore, I didn’t think it would ever come up.”

Robert shook his head, and his eyes had gone soft again. “I just don’t get it. I mean, the Dingles look after their own, always have done. I don’t see why you didn’t go to them for help.”

“What, you think they’d welcome me back if they knew what I was?” Aaron snapped without thinking, his voice taught as tears formed a lump in his throat.

“Aaron, trust me, prostitution is about the least terrible thing someone in that family has ever done. They’d be hypocrites to judge.”

“Is this a joke to you?”

Robert sighed, now coming to lean against the corner of the broken sofa, hands clasped together. “No. It’s not. Look, I’m not on the best of terms with anyone who has the surname Dingle, but even I can say that they’re loyal to the bone. They’d never turn their back on you.”

Except they had. They all had. His mum had left him and never looked back, barely remembered he was alive throughout his childhood. She had never given a damn about him, and he couldn’t expect that to change now.

“Don’t.”

“All right. I’m not going to push it. But you never know, being back in the village… you might change your mind.”

“I won’t. I’ve managed fine without them this far, I don’t need them.” It was true, in a way. He’d had years on his own, unable to rely on anyone other than himself to get him through. And he’d made it, just about. Damaged along the way, but still surviving, still breathing. It was an achievement of sorts, and despite all he had had to do to get to this point, he was proud of himself. He had to be, really, because no one else was going to be.

That didn’t mean, though, that he hadn’t needed them in the past. When he’d been working as a drugs courier, in so deep that selling himself honestly became the best option, he’d sometimes dreamed about his family coming to his rescue. This clan of rough, bad-mouthed criminals who would sweep in to save him and then take him home. It had seemed like a possibility when he was still just a spotty teenager, but that optimism had soon been beaten out of him. Eventually he realised he was going to have to save himself, and that’s what he’d done. In a manner of speaking.

Robert was looking at him now, his expression no longer readable, though Aaron had a feeling he was gearing up to ask yet another question about his estranged family. He flicked his gaze towards the shards of crockery and glass littered across the granite worktops, before halting as he took in the coffee-machine smashed on the floor. It was ridiculous, but he felt a surge of anger rise inside him like a tidal wave, almost as though Ronnie had done far more than simply break a few pieces of furniture. He had destroyed the domestic bliss which he and Robert had wrapped themselves in, ruining their safe and familiar routine which had become home for them.

“We should probably clear some of this stuff up,” he suggested, nudging a large shard of glass which had become embedded in the plush rug beneath the coffee-table with his boot. Robert looked about himself, nodding, and crossed over to the door which was still lying open.

“We should be able to secure the bolt enough for it to lock. But I think the sooner we get out of here, the better,” he said, already pushing the door shut and fiddling with the bolt which was half hanging off the wall.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back, you know. For all the damage… I’ll get you the money somehow.”

Robert paused in his efforts to lock the door and turned, giving Aaron a half-smile. “You didn’t do this, so I’m not expecting you to stump up the cash for it. And in any case, it’s all insured. Neither of us will have to fork out for the repairs.”

Aaron still felt uneasy, still felt like this was one debt he really needed to repay, but Robert had already gone back to fixing the lock on the door, the discussion obviously finished from his point of view. He decided not to push it, knowing an argument right now could possibly fracture what tenuous future still remained open to him.

Instead, he went over to the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the roll of black bin-bags, ripping off a couple and getting to work scooping the broken kitchenware into one of the open bags. It was slightly therapeutic in a way, as if it was another slate being wiped clean, but as Aaron cleared the first worktop, his eyes kept being drawn back to the far wall, the words from his past stained blood red, an omen of what still loomed above his head.

When I say heel, you come running.

But he wouldn’t. Not this time. Because he wasn’t alone anymore, he didn’t have to do this on his own.

He had Robert.

Chapter Text

Robert woke much earlier than he’d intended, his spine knotted from having slept with every muscle tensed and ready, listening out for someone to come crashing through the door and wreck the place a second time over. Or worse.

Aaron’s legs were tangled with his own, his right arm cold from where it had been wrapped around Robert above the duvet. He removed it from across his shoulder gently, placing it between them so his hand was resting on the edge of Robert’s pillow. In the dim light of early morning, he could see the veins running from the base of Aaron’s fingers to his wrist protruding like tree roots, and he traced them faintly with his thumb, revelling in how delicate they seemed considering how solid Aaron felt against him. It was another contradiction, Robert decided - strong meets fragile - and he couldn’t help but feel it was the most accurate of all his conflicting characteristics.

He lay in bed for a few more minutes, his only movement being to blink every so often when his eyes got tired of just staring. He’d never really allowed himself to study Aaron’s face before - how perfectly straight his nose was, how dark his lashes were, how filled out his cheeks became when he was asleep. With each look he seemed to make another momentous discovery and it gave him the strangest thrill, mapping and memorising every feature of him until he was sure, if he closed his eyes, Aaron’s face would still remain behind his lids.

Eventually, though, the need to pee overtook his desire to stay cocooned in the warmth of their bed, and he rolled across until his legs slipped from underneath the covers, toes curling into the soft carpet. He’d somehow forgotten the sheer mess which had been left outside the bedroom door, and it took him a second to adjust to the carnage. The guy really had gone to town on the place. Not that it was such a terrible thing, if Robert was being honest. It meant he didn’t have to let Vic down for a start, and it also meant this thing with Aaron wasn’t about to reach an untimely conclusion either. The best of both worlds, he thought with a slightly smug smile, and shuffled off to the bathroom to relieve his bladder.

On his way back to the living-room and kitchen, he pulled out the single paint tin from the cupboard which he’d kept ‘just in case’. In his head, ‘just in case’ had constituted an accidental smudge which ruined the immaculate ivory paintwork, not big, ugly, spray-painted lettering across the entire wall.

He crossed the room in a few, tense strides, metal tin swinging from his right hand, and came to stand just in front of the kitchen counter, facing the vivid, scarlet message in all its horrific glory.

The words made him irrationally angry, to the point where he wanted to dig his nails into the wall and scratch off every last fleck of paint. Except, of course, it wasn’t irrational anger at all. It was entirely justifiable, only it wasn’t directed at the vile little pimp who had orchestrated this particularly petty attack. Instead, it was solely focused on himself.

Robert wished it was just his protective instincts kicking in, his flaring need to shield Aaron from the clear threat imprinted on the wall. But the fury inside him, rattling against its cage and desperate to break free, had more to do with what the words meant for himself than any association with Aaron.

He had been drunk the night Vic had told him to stop calling her. Drunk enough that his tongue had been catastrophically loosened, his mind entirely unshackled from the filters which kept him within the usual boundaries of prattish behaviour, rather than boiling over into full-on prick mode. He’d been so furious that night, with everyone but himself, and Aaron had been there, all rough-edged and irritable, pushing Robert’s buttons whether deliberately or not, and something in Robert had just been so desperate to inflict pain rather than receiving it. To tear great gashes into him and then rub salt into the wounds.

“Heel, doggie.”

He’d said it because he knew it would rile Aaron, get the desired response - because in that moment the desired response had been any response at all. But now he played it over with newfound perspective, and it made him feel physically sick, because suddenly the words he’d used held far more meaning than he could ever have understood.

Aaron was hardly the most expressive person, and he’d been interminably close-mouthed about his previous employment, but after securing the door enough for them both to feel moderately safe, they had wrapped themselves up in each other’s arms, and Aaron had explained, haltingly and in the most basic of terms, what the message on the wall and the accompanying note had meant

“We all had our pet names, and mine was puppy. Something about being obedient, that’s what Ronnie said. Always told me I was reliable, that I’d do what was asked of me, no arguments.”

Robert had been glad, in that moment, that the room was too dark for Aaron to see his face. Just the idea of Aaron being too scared, too innocent, too vulnerable to talk back or refuse had had his stomach twisting painfully and his face contorting into a grimace. He’d brushed his nose against Aaron’s hair, lips lingering against his temple as they slipped further under the covers, Robert’s arm tight around him.

Aaron had eventually fallen asleep, though his breathing never really left the shallow end, and Robert had listened to him for at least another hour, the realisation slowly dawning on him that he had inadvertently mocked Aaron’s past. The echo of his own words had tormented him the entire night, and no matter how hard he tried to hate the pimp who had been the cause of so much of Aaron’s pain, it was always himself that he ended up hating more.

Now, at least, he could erase the physical, tangible words which were glaring back at him. It wouldn’t be as easy, though, to rub out the words he’d already said, the ones which had buried their way under his skin, the ghost of an itch he couldn’t seem to scratch.

It was almost cathartic, brushing over each letter with the cream-coloured paint, removing all trace of what had once been there. Soon the entire wall was clear of the message, as if it had never been, and Robert was glad that Aaron would wake without having to face the reminder of his past again. It had surprised him, actually, how instinctual it had been to protect Aaron, to assure him that no one and nothing would hurt him. It was terrifying, actually. That jolt at the base of his spine which spurred him into action, and all because Aaron was in danger.

He’d felt it for his family, of course. Had felt it for Katie at one point, he imagined, although those memories were so warped that he couldn’t really rely on them for accuracy anymore. But now he was feeling for it for a stranger, a guy who had somehow managed to infiltrate his life without him properly understanding what that meant, or how that would feel. But now he was beginning to sense it, beginning to feel aware of this shift as though the tectonic plates were actually moving beneath his feet.

“What are you doing?”

He almost spilled the paint tin, having been so lost in thought that he didn’t even hear Aaron get up. Robert stuck the lid back on and went to wash the brush under the kitchen tap.

“Thought that was one thing I should probably fix before we left,” he explained, eyes flicking up to the bare wall. Somehow, he could still see the words, even though there was nothing there. He hoped Aaron couldn’t see them, too.

“Didn’t really peg you for a DIY sort of person.” There was a trace of a smile there, weary and a diluted, but still there, and Robert went with it.

“Why don’t we try a little less attitude and a little more gratitude, eh?” he batted back, placing the paint brush on a tea towel to dry. His hand was frozen now from having been under the cold tap for so long and he squeezed his fingers, trying to force some life back into them.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

Robert looked up, realising Aaron was suddenly curling into himself, the shutters coming down, and he sighed.

“Aaron, I was joking,” he reassured, before taking in his ashen skin and drooping shoulders. “Did you get any sleep?”

“A bit.” Except he hadn’t, if the bruised shadows beneath his eyes were anything to go by. He probably hadn’t slept properly all night.

“I’d offer you coffee but…” Robert gestured to the broken coffee machine which was balanced on top of one of the hundred black bags littered around the room. Aaron gave a half-smile before his face returned to its concerned scowl.

Robert waited for him to respond, to say anything, but eventually he gave up, realising Aaron had no intention of easing the silence at all.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to hear everything’s pretty much sorted with the flat,” he began, hoping his forced cheerfulness might rub off. “I emailed Greg last night to tell him about the damage and that we’d be moving out - I’ve already paid the rent till the end of the month so we can leave whenever.”

Aaron nodded, finally looking at him with slightly more alert eyes. “So when were you thinking, then?”

“I was wondering if today was too soon?”

He raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t seem overly against the idea. “We haven’t even got a place to live.”

Robert grabbed his phone from the worktop and flicked through his texts. “Actually, Rakesh - the guy who owns the flats in the village - said he could draw up the contracts as soon as we wanted. I was thinking we could load up the car today and then head off… be in our new place by tonight.”

It was strange even to his own ears. Our new place. It felt like a commitment, and the weight of permanency behind the words niggled at him, the faintest idea of something which persisted in fighting for his attention. His gaze became skittish, hoping Aaron had somehow skimmed over the meaning entirely, and every instinct he had pulsated with the need to run.

“Sounds good.” It was a rather deflated response considering what Robert was offering, but he was glad in a way. Obviously Aaron hadn’t latched onto the words as he’d feared, so there was no need to backtrack on himself.

“I don’t think it should take too long to pack up everything,” Robert continued, now relaxing a little at having avoided a potential domestic. “I’ve got some cardboard boxes and newspaper for all the kitchen stuff… well, whatever’s left of it. And all my things can go in suitcases.”

“I can help with that,” Aaron suggested, already moving round to the overhead kitchen cupboards and opening each in turn. Luckily the crockery had been left in tact, so it was one less thing to buy, but Robert was already doing the maths in his head, and he wasn’t entirely sure how they would fit everything, including themselves, into his Audi.

“Might need to hire a removal van, now that I think about it. Not that that’s a bad thing - less for us to do, then.”

Aaron nodded, evidently only half-listening. “We can see how much there is once we’ve packed it all up. Maybe there won’t be as much as you think.”

Aaron ended up being right. For all his worries, most of Robert’s stuff squeezed into two suitcases, even with his extensive selection of CDs and his prized comic book collection - the latter of which provoked a bemused smile from Aaron.

“Can’t say I thought you’d be into superheroes,” he commented, running his fingers along the cellophane wrapper of one of the earlier Captain America editions.

Robert rubbed the back of his neck, forcing himself not to get embarrassed. It was a hobby, an interest, and absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

“Yeah, well, it’s an investment. Some of these are worth a fortune.”

Aaron gave him a knowing side-glance. “Course. And it’s got nothing to do with you being a big kid.”

He refused to either confirm or deny it, but there was a trace of a smile tugging at his mouth and Aaron’s blue eyes were sparkling with amusement.  

Most of it was boxed and ready to go by the time it hit two o’ clock. Robert tried not to notice how little Aaron had to pack. In fact, he didn’t have anything to pack. He’d been living out of Robert’s hand-me-down clothes and the outfit he’d worn the day they’d met, but he didn’t have any other possessions. It struck him all too quickly how little Aaron had in his life, and not even just material objects. There were no mementos from happier times, no photographs, nothing which connected him to… anything. He had been so utterly alone, and it took the breath from Robert for a moment, knowing just how it felt to be entirely unconnected to the world.

“We could head into town, if you like? Get all this packed up, park somewhere and get a bite to eat,” he suggested, already tugging the suitcases toward the front door. He didn’t want to be here anymore, not when there was a fresh start waiting for them just outside. This flat would be his past, and God how welcome a thought that was.

Aaron zipped up his hoodie and grabbed one of the cardboard boxes, the muscles in his arms flexing against the strain. “Yeah, I’m starving,” was all he said, and there was something distant in his eyes, like his mind was focused on something else.

They headed down to the carpark and started to squish everything into the cramped backseat of the Audi. It would fit, just. Frankly, Robert didn’t care if none of this came with him. It was all just stuff, bought when he’d been at his lowest, still convincing himself that it would all be temporary. In the end, he’d been right. Because now he was going home.

It took a bit of negotiating to get the rest of it into the boot - a bit like tetris only with far more swearing - but eventually the car was packed and Robert slammed the door shut with a satisfying thud. Aaron leaned against the bonnet, hands shoved into his pockets, giving the tarmac an intensely determined stare.

“You all right?” Robert asked, nudging Aaron’s boot with the toe of his shoe. It was a tentative move, one he’d been wanting to make all morning.

Aaron shrugged, lower lip dragged into his mouth by his teeth. Not a good sign, Robert thought, his heart picking up the pace as he slid a hand round to Aaron’s side.

“Hey. If you’re having second thoughts-”

“I’m not,” Aaron immediately insisted, but there was enough hesitancy there for Robert to doubt the words. He knew the nerves were getting to him, the idea of returning to the village a more daunting prospect than slinking back to the worthless pimp who’d almost destroyed his life. It was understandable, but Robert still felt the exasperation tightening his throat as he sighed.

“You know this is for the best. I mean, you know-”

“I know,” Aaron cut him off again, but his voice was softer this time and he finally tore his gaze from the ground, lifting it till their eyes locked. “It’s just a bit… weird. Knowing I’m going back there, after all this time.”

Robert leaned forwards, placing his other hand against Aaron’s cool cheek, thumb stroking against the corner of his eye. There was something comforting about touching him, as if the gesture wasn’t just about making Aaron feel better. As if it had an equally calming affect on him.

Aaron’s eyes fluttered shut, turning his face into Robert’s hand to place the most gentle of kisses against his palm, his coarse beard creating friction against his skin. They both smiled.

“I’ll lock up the flat if you start the car,” Aaron suggested, reaching round to the back pocket of Robert’s jeans and sliding his hand inside to get his wallet. His breath hitched just a little, the feel of Aaron’s palm against his backside blindsiding him for a moment.

“Got what you were looking for?” Robert murmured, the shock wearing off just enough for him to give a sly grin.

Aaron pulled the keycard from the stack inside before pushing the wallet against Robert’s chest. “Just about,” he replied, his voice coarse and deep, burrowing beneath Robert’s skin and making him shiver. He watched Aaron walk back towards the building, licking his lips as he imagined them in their new flat… and all the rooms they’d need to christen.

They ended up at a Mexican restaurant with too-loud music, and were seated next to a teenage girl’s birthday party which continually interrupted Robert mid-conversation to start shrieking with laughter. They ended up eating quickly just to get out of there, and Aaron remained almost completely mute as they made their way back to the car.

The whole day had felt a little off-kilter, as if the world was a spinning-top and now it was wobbling precariously as it turned. It wasn’t overly noticeable, but Robert couldn’t seem to find his balance, words stumbling on his tongue without having any idea of what he wanted to say.

He knew it was likely the tension between them that had caused this sense of uncertainty to swell inside him. Aaron seemed half-poised to jump from the car even as they clipped in their seatbelts, and Robert started the ignition with a hard twist of his hand, determined to get going before he could change his mind and ask to be let out.

There was a thin mist descending across the city as they drove through the darkening streets. It was barely four, but night was already rolling in, and Robert flicked on his side-lights, fingers drumming fast against the steering-wheel. He was usually so much calmer when he was in the car, but today his skin prickled with fear, and every move he made was rougher than normal, foot pushed too hard against the brake pedal, gears changed with a forceful hand. He ground his teeth together, the taste of chilli still sizzling on his tongue, and he took signs for Hotten. Once they were out of the city, then he could relax.

Except, even as they hit the spiral roundabout which would take them out of Leeds completely, that thrum of tension kept a steady beat inside his chest. He hated feeling so unsure, so tight with nerves that he could barely breathe. And although it had a lot to do with Aaron, who was practically radiating fear beside him, it also had a lot do with himself. He was going home, only this time he wouldn’t be getting the warm, if slightly surprised, welcome he’d received last time around. This time he’d be met with hostility, maybe even a swing to his jaw from his brother. And as much as he was looking forward to being back where he belonged, there was a fear there as well which no amount of strained optimism could shake. His family, excluding Victoria, didn’t want to see him again. Most of the village had some axe to grind with him, and even those that didn’t were hardly friendly. He almost felt like he was about to walk, knowingly, into a nest of vipers.

And there was one persistent thought pulsating at the back of his mind, refusing to leave him be even for a moment.

How long will it be before Aaron is poisoned against you? Or worse, how long will it take before you fuck it up yourself?

A smooth, straight road stretched ahead of them and Robert finally switched on the radio, deciding that a bit of noise would help to drown out the incessant questions. He flicked through the channels, eventually picking Radio 2 because he’d always been a bit old-school when it came to music, and then his hand reached across to take Aaron’s, squeezing tightly until he turned to face him.

“You still all right?” he asked, stroking his thumb across Aaron’s rough, hard knuckles.

He nodded, pulling his hood up over his head and curling his fingers round Robert’s. “Just tired. It’s been a long day,” he explained, and Robert knew it was a lie, but he accepted it all the same.

Billy Joel began playing softly and Aaron curled up against the window, sliding a little lower in the black, leather seat. The harsh, orange lamplights cast an intermittent amber shadow across his face, and Robert took periodic glances at him as they sped on towards the village, wanting desperately to pull over now and wrap himself around Aaron until this strange, restless feeling stopped tugging at him.

Once we’re there, Robert thought as he gripped the wheel a little tighter, everything will fall into place. But as convincing as it sounded, Robert had the disconcerting sense that, rather than reaching for their fresh start, it felt an awful lot like they were heading towards the finish line.

Chapter Text

There was rain tapping against the windscreen, a steady thrum reverberating around him as he pushed himself upright. It was pitch black outside, and the only light was coming from the speed dials on the dashboard and the slightly hazy glow of the radio which had been turned down low. Aaron rubbed his aching eyes, wondering how long he’d been asleep for, and shook away the disorientation which had fogged his brain.

Robert had seemingly disappeared into the night, and Aaron twisted round to look out the back window, which was mostly blocked by boxes, but could barely see anything other than blackness through the glass. His back was throbbing from having been hunched against the passenger door for what must have been hours, and his ear ached from being pressed awkwardly against his arm while he slept. It was hard to tell what time it was, considering darkness usually fell by early evening in winter, but Aaron was sure it was well passed seven or eight.

He reached across to the driver’s side and flicked on the headlights, immediately hissing as two shards of light cut through the darkness and illuminated a sandstone building in front of him, ivy creeping up the side like a castle in a fairytale.

So they had arrived, then. Back in Emmerdale. Back home.

It felt weird to even think it, and yet a strange sense of nostalgia settled itself in his chest, and he pulled the lever back, switching off the headlights and plunging the car into its previous state of darkness. Somewhere outside, he heard gravel crunch beneath someone’s footsteps, and suddenly the driver door was pulled open and Robert leaned down, looking wearier than he had been at the beginning of the journey, but still alert enough to offer Aaron a relieved smile.

“Awake, then,” he said, now sliding into the seat and pulling out the car keys before turning to face him. The door was still open and a bitter wind whistled through the confined space, making Aaron’s bones shiver.

“Sorry. You should have woke me sooner, I could have driven for a bit,” he replied, though he doubted he would have been much use behind the wheel when his stomach had been cramping so badly with nerves. He’d gone to sleep just to avoid thinking about where they were heading, or how he would feel once they got there.

Robert shook his head, blonde hair ruffled slightly from the harsh wind, and pushed his shoulder into the seat so he was eye-to-eye with Aaron.

“It wasn’t that bad. Not much traffic, and the snow wasn’t lying until a couple of minutes ago.”

Aaron hadn’t even realised, but now he saw the thinnest layer of white dappling the gravel outside the car, and a flurry of crystallised flakes curling towards the ground. There was a childish sense of excitement at seeing the first snow fall, reminiscent of when he was a boy with his nose pressed against the window, watching the whole world slowly disappear in a blizzard of white. Of course, some of that magic was tainted now, the reality of frozen air and icy stretches dampening some of the whimsical spirit. But he still found himself momentarily transfixed by it, eyes sliding passed Robert to the patter of snowflakes falling more heavily against the gravel driveway.

“So… are we all sorted, then?” Aaron asked, dragging his gaze back towards Robert who was already fishing out a set of jangling keys from his coat pocket. He kept them hooked on his index finger before nodding towards the house in front of them.

“We’re on the ground floor, so no need to be lugging boxes upstairs,” he said, now sliding back out into the wintry night. He pulled his collar up against the chill and gestured for Aaron to follow, which he did, zipping up his borrowed jacket and clambering out of the Audi and clamping his teeth together as a raw wind hurtled passed him. It was bitterly cold, so much so it took the breath from him, and he moved round to Robert’s side, desperate to get inside to the warmth.

“Do you think we could leave off bringing the stuff in till morning? I can’t feel my fingers right now.”

Robert grinned, wrapping a strong arm around Aaron’s quivering shoulders. “This country air not agreeing with you, is it?” he joked, and there was a lightness to his voice which Aaron hadn’t heard before. Maybe it was being back where he belonged, or maybe it was just relief that they were free of Ronnie. It made the tightness in his stomach loosen a little, and he offered up a smile of his own, watching as snow peppered Robert’s blonde hair and dampened the tips.

They hurried on towards the front door, Robert explaining hurriedly as they entered the luxurious warmth of the entrance hallway that he’d gone to see Rakesh for the keys and had signed the contract there and then. Aaron was only half-listening, eager to be behind four walls so he could finally breathe easy, knowing he wasn’t about to bump into someone he might recognise. Or someone who might recognise him.

The flat wasn’t as open-plan as Robert’s previous place - it didn’t have the same hollowness which Aaron had never quite been able to get used to, but rather a more comfortable, homelier feel which put him at ease the moment he stepped through the door. Safe, that’s how it felt. Like nothing could touch them inside these walls.

“Not bad, right?” Robert asked, and there was just the slightest hint of concern in his voice, as if tentatively feeling out any dangers or pitfalls ahead.

Aaron nodded, shrugging off his jacket and hooking it on the back of the front door. It looked good there, as if that’s where it was supposed to be. Where it had always been.

“Yeah, it’s great,” he replied, and he meant it. It was perfect.

They both made their way through each room, making noises of agreement as they noted the modern kitchen and living-room, the sleek bathroom, the huge bedroom with it’s incredibly inviting bed. Aaron almost ached to pull Robert on top of it, but the exhaustion was hitting him again, and his desperation to sleep just marginally overtook his desire which was simmering just below the surface.

“I’m knackered,” he murmured, the tension which had gripped him for hours now slipping away as the warmth sunk into his skin. Robert nodded, yawning loudly as he started to unbutton his shirt, and pulled back the duvet which had no doubt come with the flat. Aaron slipped out of his jeans, thighs still numb from the cold and sighed heavily as he collapsed back onto the bed, digging his feet under the covers to try and get warm.

He watched as Robert’s eyelids drooped, shirt slipping from his arms and his jeans lying discarded on the cream carpet. Another swell of attraction pushed against the wall of exhaustion, and he turned onto his side as Robert pulled the duvet up over them before switching off the sidelight. In the darkness of their new room, Aaron couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear at his unfamiliar surroundings, reminding him of the myriad of strange bedrooms he had slept in over the years. But then Robert’s warm arm wound its way around him and he found himself tucked up against his bare chest. He lifted his head to place a kiss against Robert’s neck and felt him sigh, slow and deep, before pulling Aaron even closer.

“Home sweet home,” Robert whispered, lips pressed to Aaron’s temple. And it was the first time he could actually believe it. Home. It’s where the heart is, isn’t that how the saying went?

It took him a few seconds to remember where he was, that sense of disorientation returning with a vengeance and jolting his heart into a stammering rhythm before quietening again as he heard the familiar whistle of Robert in the shower.

With light streaming in through the large, latticed window, Aaron could more easily appreciate the bedroom which was now theirs. It was just as large as Robert’s other bedroom, if slightly narrower in width and with fewer shelves, but it was warm and comfortable and, most importantly, it didn’t feel like just Robert’s anymore. This wasn’t a temporary place to sleep before he was turfed back out onto the streets. It was like Robert had said - this was home.

He pulled on his jeans and padded along the hallway to what he thought was the kitchen, but turned out to be a cupboard. He got his bearings, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before rolling them back into his head as he noted the shining, new coffee machine sat on the island, a replacement for the one Ronnie’s thug had smashed. Evidently Robert hadn’t been able to conceive of another morning without his much-needed Americano.

Aaron opened up the overhead drawers and pulled out two white, IKEA mugs which Robert would no doubt turn his nose up at, and waited for them to fill up with rich, steaming coffee. There was still an ache in his shoulders from having been hunched up in the car for hours, but it had lessened to a dull twinge which he could easily ignore. He heard the bathroom door open and after a few minutes, Robert appeared, a towel wrapped tightly around his slim, dripping waist. Aaron passed him the mug, eyes roaming up his lean, muscular legs, across the broad plane of his chest, before finally coming to rest on Robert’s smug face.

“Like what you see?” he asked before taking a sip of his Americano, wincing as the bitter liquid burned his tongue.

Aaron smirked. “That’s what you get for being such an arrogant prat,” he said, but he was easing round to stand in front of him, letting a finger gently trail along the line of droplets running down Robert’s arm.

“That my punishment, is it?” Robert’s voice was low and husky, and Aaron bit down on his bottom lip as he swayed forward a little, reducing the space between them, inch by tantalising inch. He couldn’t help the smile which crept across his face, and let out a huff of breath as Robert dragged his tongue along his lips in anticipation.

“I’ve got a couple of other suggestions,” Aaron breathed, and a frisson of electricity ran along his spine, sparking just at the base and urging him forwards. Robert hooked a finger into the belt-loop of his jeans and pulled him in, their hips bumping together before Robert sealed his mouth over Aaron’s in one, fluid move which left him reeling.

It took him a second to find his balance despite having known where this was heading almost as soon as he saw Robert’s naked torso. But soon enough he had his fingers wound tightly into Robert’s damp hair, tugging a little to find better purchase as the kiss deepened, his lungs almost bursting from lack of oxygen. It had been long enough for him to have forgotten what it felt like, to have their lips fused together, tongues desperate and dominant. And Robert was so warm and solid and real beneath his touch, coaxing him down the hallway towards the waiting bedroom, the towel already slipping further down his hips to reveal the very tops of his broad thighs.

Aaron pushed him up against the door frame, pinning him there with his fingers digging into Robert’s forearms, nipping at his lower lip until he gave a breathy laugh.

“Quit teasing,” he complained, but he was grinning from ear to ear, green eyes sparkling under the light as he began to unbutton Aaron’s jeans, pushing down the zip with a sharp tug which confirmed how truly sick he was already of foreplay.

“I’m just getting started,” Aaron retorted, grabbing the back of his t-shirt and yanking it over his head before pulling Robert further into the bedroom. There was the briefest flash of something else in Robert’s eyes, his jubilant expression faltering like a dodgy connection before bursting back into life with a slightly wider grin. But he’d clocked it, or enough of it to join the dots.

It hadn’t been that long since they’d had sex, since Robert had seen Aaron naked. Maybe it was more the new environment which suddenly made the scars criss-crossing over his stomach all the more prominent. His hand immediately went to hide the worst of them, palm flattened across the scarlet and silver tracks just slightly raised against his otherwise smooth skin.

Robert noticed the movement and wrapped his fingers round Aaron’s wrist, pulling his hand away before replacing it with his own. It felt so personal, so direct, and his first instinct was to pull away. But Robert had hold of his gaze, and that magnetic charge, while slightly less palpable, still thrummed between them.

“You know you can tell me… about any of it.” The words were perhaps put a little less tactfully than Aaron might have liked, but the sentiment was there, and he could hear the sincerity in Robert’s voice. He meant it. Not that that made any difference, considering he had no intention of ever talking about his past again, and especially not with the man he had been, up until two seconds ago, trying to get into bed.

“I know. Not right now, though, yeah?” he said, steering them back, not so discreetly, in the direction they’d previously been heading in. Robert took the cue, giving another brilliant smile, and resumed his earlier endeavours of sliding Aaron’s jeans down his thighs and tugging his boxers along after them.

Free from the constraints of clothes, the frustration which went hand-in-hand with impatience eased a little, and they took their time, Robert’s tongue driving circles into hollows of Aaron’s collar bones, making him squirm and hiss until he was practically pleading with Robert to get a move on.

The novelty of not being in the driver’s seat, of not being the one in control, had not worn off yet. Usually, with all those faceless men in empty car parks, back seats, dim bedrooms and sometimes even dank alleyways, he was the one doing the work. They lay back and took and took from him, never giving anything in return apart from a couple of notes which left him feeling much dirtier than the blowjob which proceeded it. But now he was the one taking and taking, opening himself up to Robert’s long, expert fingers which worked him open till he was crying for mercy, panting hard as he felt those soft lips travel up his inner thigh. He had rarely been on the receiving end, and certainly not like this.

“Turn over,” Robert growled, and Aaron did so immediately, arching his back as those same lips peppered open-mouthed kisses along his spine. He was almost trembling from desire now, the heat of anticipation making his head swim.

And he almost yelped as he felt Robert slowly enter him, fingers slick with lube now digging into Aaron’s hips as he pushed in deeper. He buried his head into the pillow, breath low and shallow as Robert pulled back a little, thumbs rubbing circles into the curve of his waist and murmuring words of encouragement as he eased back in.

It was so achingly slow, every inch another unfiltered second of raw pleasure, that by the time Robert’s pace quickened, Aaron was on the verge of collapse. He could barely feel his legs, and his cock had practically soaked the duvet in pre-cum.

“Faster,” he moaned, biting down on his fist as Robert rocked his hips quicker, his grip tightening as all hope of restraint and control was discarded. They pushed forward fearlessly, the bed groaning beneath them as they gasped in unison, coming one after the other in a blinding moment of euphoria.

Robert pushed in one final time, sighing into it before pulling out completely. Aaron sunk into the pillows, listening as he heard footsteps retreating to the bathroom before returning moments later, the bed dipping as Robert came to lie beside him.

“Well that’s one room done,” he heard him say, and turned over to give him a questioning stare.

“You what?”

Robert smiled playfully, running a finger along Aaron’s jaw. “It’s what you’re supposed to do, when you get a new place. Christen the rooms.”

It was such a typical thing for Robert to say, but he found himself laughing, rolling over to the edge of the bed to pick up his boxers.

“What about round two? You can’t be tired already?” Robert stopped him, but Aaron rolled his eyes.

“I’m starving is what I am,” he corrected, lifting his hips so he could slide the soft cotton up over his arse. Robert looked momentarily put-out before nodding.

“Suppose we should get some breakfast. It’s almost half-eleven,” he admitted, retrieving his own boxers and then pulling on his jeans. Aaron debated with himself for a moment, the idea of yanking Robert back down onto the bed a brief but tempting possibility, before pushing it aside and deciding there would be plenty time to explore the other rooms later. Once they’d had food. It was important to keep their energy up.

He was just grabbing his own jeans, already thinking about a full English, when he heard a soft rap coming from the front of the flat.

“Is that the door?” he asked, turning to Robert who was wearing an equally perplexed expression.

“Think so,” he replied, already making his way down the hallway towards the front door. Aaron waited, deciding it was safer all round if he stayed hidden in the bedroom. It was likely just Rakesh making sure Robert hadn’t changed his mind about the flat, and that didn’t require any input from Aaron.

“Welcome home!”

There was a second where all he could do was stand, motionless, as he let the voice echo down to meet him. And then he closed his eyes, uttering the softest of fuck’s into his hand before creeping quietly towards the bedroom door.

Vic was already halfway into the flat, carrying what looked like a cake on a giant, floral plate, and wearing the brightest of smiles as she gave her brother a one-armed hug which had her reaching up onto her tip-toes and dragging him down by the neck.

“Vic… what are you doing here?” Robert asked, his voice weak and thready, evidently as stunned as Aaron was by this sudden, unexpected visitor.

She seemed completely unperturbed, however, pushing the cake into Robert’s chest which he had no option but to take. “I came to see your new digs, of course. What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t roll out the red carpet! I’m not completely heartless.”

They had shifted so that Vic’s back was to the hallway and Robert was now facing down towards the bedroom. Aaron chanced another brief look and immediately saw the horror on Robert’s face. It was comforting, at least, to know they were both in the same, sinking boat.

“That’s… nice of you. But I’m fine, really. I haven’t even had a chance to unpack-”

“Another reason why I came over! I thought I could lend a hand, help you move in properly. I booked the day off work and everything.”

This, Aaron had to admit, was news to him. So Robert had told his sister already that he was moving home, and enough in advance that she’d been able to score some time off work?

“You didn’t have to do that…” Robert was floundering, unable to tell Vic to sod off but equally unable to accept her offer for help. They had agreed she wasn’t to know, at least not yet, that Aaron was staying. But that was hardly going to happen if she was waltzing into every room in the flat. And he had no intention of squeezing into the wardrobe, no matter how little he wanted another conversation with her.

“Course I did. It’s not like you’ve got anyone else to help you.”

Don’t say it, Aaron thought, the temptation to slam his head off the wall almost impossible to resist.

“Actually… Vic, things have changed a little bit since we spoke…”

“Oh no, you’re not backing out, Robert. You promised!” she whined, and Aaron almost hoped Robert would go along with it, tell her he wasn’t staying after all, that he was going back to Leeds. Even though he knew already that he wouldn’t.

“I’m not backing out,” Robert reassured her, though there was exasperation to the words which no doubt was fueled by panic. “But… well, something happened… I won’t go into detail… but Aaron’s going to be staying here for a little while.”

He hated how temporary it all sounded, and suddenly wondered how long ‘a little while’ constituted. Perhaps this wasn’t really his home after all.

“Wait… he’s here?” Vic hissed, and he heard her footsteps thump against the floorboards as she turned in a circle, as if expecting him to suddenly jump out at her. He stayed hidden behind the door.

“Yeah.”

The silence spoke volumes.

“Oh. Right. Ok. Well… that’s… Sorry, am I missing something?”

“Vic-”

“No, come on,” she interrupted, and now it was her turn to sound exasperated. “There’s being a friend, helping someone out when things are tough, and then there’s this. You moved home and brought him with you? That sounds more like-”

“More like what?” Robert cut her off, and there was a sharpness to his voice which took even Aaron by surprise. She’d hit a nerve, that was for sure.

“Robert, I’m not one to make assumptions. No judgement, that’s me. But if you wanted to tell me something… I mean, I know Aaron’s gay, so…”

“So you think two guys can’t live together, as friends, without them jumping into bed together?”

Aaron’s gaze flickered over to the rumpled sheets and damp duvet. It was almost surprising how easily the lie had tripped off his tongue - surprising… and worrying.

“Of course I’m not saying that! Jesus, what do you take me for? I just thought I should ask the question.”

“Well, there’s no need. I’m helping him out, that’s all,” he replied, and now it wasn’t just the lies that were aggravating him, but also this sudden idea he was a charity case. As if Robert was the Good Samaritan, doing his bit for the pathetic misfit who couldn’t seem to get back on his feet.

“Right. Well then, that’s a very nice thing to do. I’m proud of you, Robert.”

“Yeah, well, he needs somewhere he can call home.”

Home. There it was again, and it had the same gravity as when Robert had said it the night before.

“Home? That sounds more permanent than…”

“He can stay as long as he wants,” Robert said, and it had enough force behind it to pull Aaron back from the brink. Maybe everything he’d said before had just been a smoke screen, a way to deviate Vic from the trail. Maybe Robert really did want him here.

He cleared his throat before stepping out into the hallway, giving Vic a smile which she returned with a slightly flummoxed one of her own.

“Hi.”

“Hi!” she exclaimed, and with her arms now free of cake, she suddenly launched herself at him, pulling him into a terrifyingly tight embrace considering her size. He tensed considerably, every muscle alert to this strange woman wrapped around him, and he glanced over her shoulder at Robert with raised eyebrows.

Robert shrugged as if to say ‘just go with it’ and Aaron locked his jaw against the series of expletives he desperately wanted to grind out, instead allowing Vic to squeeze his shoulders a little longer before finally releasing him with a panicked smile.

“I’m hoping you’re going to be keeping my brother on the straight and narrow. He has a habit of getting into trouble,” she said, looking from her brother to Aaron and back again, as if still trying to work out what she was missing. Robert refused to meet her stare.

“Not sure I’m the best person to be helping with that, to be honest. I’m pretty sure I’ve got into way worse situations than him,” Aaron replied, and at least it wasn’t a lie. As far as trouble went, he might as well have had a bulls-eye tattooed to his forehead.

“Oh, I doubt that,” Vic said, giving a pointed look at her brother. “Anyway, considering the two of you seem happy enough not unpacking, why don’t I show you round the village? We could go to the pub? I’ll shout you both a pint, how does that sound?”

Aaron froze, brain frantically scrambling for a good enough excuse which would shut this conversation down immediately. The last thing he wanted was to go anywhere near where his Mum worked. Robert seemed to sense his fear and took a step towards his sister.

“Actually, Vic, we probably should unpack today, otherwise we’ll never do it. I can show Aaron round once we're properly settled.”

She looked disheartened, but masked it quickly with an excessively enthusiastic nod, plaits bobbing across her shoulders. “All right. Suppose I should leave you boys to it, then.”

There was another pause, her eyes flitting between Robert and Aaron, slanting as if having one final attempt at deciphering the piece of the puzzle she so obviously wasn’t seeing, before she gave up with a shake of her head.

“Put that cake in the fridge if you don’t eat it today. I slaved over that, Robert, and I don’t want it going to waste.” She waggled her finger at him and he saluted her, balancing the plate in his other hand, before opening the front door.

Vic turned to give them each a wave, and then she was gone, calling a ‘goodbye’ and a ‘I’ll come back tomorrow’ as she headed off outside. Robert stayed standing in the doorway for another second before letting the door swing shut, shoulders dropping instantly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, glancing down at the cake before turning his attention to Aaron. “I really didn’t expect her to come over today.”

“Didn’t expect her to come over at all,” he corrected, crossing his arms over his chest. “When did you tell her you were moving back home?”

Robert had never looked guiltier, so much so he seemed to revert to being a teenage boy, wide-eyed and apologetic.

“I just sent her a quick text yesterday morning. I didn’t think she’d come over with a bloody cake,” he replied, though there was no heat at all to his words. In fact, he looked more amused than anything else, not that that made it any easier to swallow.

Aaron followed him into the kitchen where he was opening the fridge to slide the plate in, and leaned against the counter, his anger turning to irritation.

“I’ve only known her five minutes and even I would have guessed she’d come round as soon as she knew you’d arrived.”

Robert sighed, slamming the fridge door shut. “You’re right. I should have known, I’m sorry. And I should have told you about texting her as well.”

“And what about me only staying a little while? Is that something else that just slipped your mind?” he bit back, and he hadn’t even meant to ask it. But the hurt had overtaken him in an instant and his brain hadn’t caught up in enough time to stop himself from saying the words aloud.

Robert rocked back on his heels, lashes fluttering with evident surprise. “No, of course not! I was just saying that for her benefit. And anyway, I told her you could stay as long as you wanted.”

Aaron scoffed. “Hardly sounds permanent, though, does it? But then, we’re just mates, aren’t we? Not like we’re going to be jumping into bed together or anything.”

They both shuddered to a halt, the memory of that morning’s fuck still burning bright and fierce in their minds, before Robert pulled himself back to reality.

“Like I said, it was all just so Vic would stay off our case. She’s like a bloodhound - once she’s got the scent for something, she can’t let it go. I didn’t want us dealing with that kind of pressure.”

The worst of it was, Aaron could understand the logic. Vic was intense, he’d already seen that, and it made sense to keep her at arm’s length for now, until they could figure out some kind of plan.

He rubbed at his temple, already feeling himself giving in. “So nothing’s changed, then?” He couldn’t help himself asking it - he needed to know where he stood, whether he should keep a bag packed just in case.

Robert maneuvered himself round to the other side of the counter and slipped a hand around Aaron’s waist before pulling him closer. He cupped his cheek with his other hand, thumb lightly stroking his beard.

“Nothing’s changed,” Robert agreed, bringing his lips down onto Aaron’s in the softest of kisses. Home sweet home, Aaron found himself thinking as he was pressed up against the worktop, grinning into Robert’s mouth.

Chapter Text

Robert sliced through the first box with his front door key, digging through the sellotape and cardboard with its serrated edge before ripping back the flaps with an exasperated grunt. It had taken them much longer than either had anticipated to un-wedge all their possessions from the cramped confines of the Audi, and while Aaron carried in most of the boxes without a single complaint, Robert… well, he wasn’t the best when it came to physical labour, especially when it meant exerting himself more than was strictly necessary.

He desperately wanted them to forego unpacking altogether and instead return to the warm, soft bed which had already seen plenty of action since Vic had left. His legs still weren’t functioning quite as they should, and just the small patch of pale skin which was revealed every time Aaron bent over was enough to have his nails digging into the palms of his hands. Desire didn’t even cover it anymore. This was more akin to obsession, obliterating all other sensations and thoughts so that all he could really focus on was the ache driving deep into the pit of his stomach.

“You planning on doing more than just staring?”

Robert snapped out of the fantasy his mind had been concocting, eyes flicking up to Aaron’s expectant face. “Sorry. Right,” he muttered, returning his attention to the contents of the box - plates and glasses wrapped in copious amounts of bubble wrap and newspaper. He laid them all out on the kitchen worktops, eyes wandering again to Aaron crouched down and grappling with a particularly spiteful piece of sellotape wrapped tightly around his fingers.

“Need some help?” he joked, already abandoning his own task to untangle the brown tape which had wound its way around Aaron’s index and middle fingers. He got his own thumb stuck in the process and the two of them yanked and ripped, impatience and frustration making them battle harder until eventually they were both free.

And then Aaron was laughing, staring down at the scrunched up bit of a sellotape and then back up at Robert, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he grinned. Robert found a bubble of laughter escape his own lips, the ridiculousness of the whole situation suddenly dawning on him, and suddenly the two of them were giggling like boys. It struck him all too quickly how rare it was to hear Aaron laugh. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard it. And the warmth that radiated across his chest had him pulling Aaron forwards by the front of his hoodie, planting a firm kiss against his lips and sliding his hand to the back of Aaron’s neck.

They were still grinning as their lips parted, but soon enough they were melting into each other, tongues lapping together as they swayed back towards the solid wall behind Robert. His thumb stroked the fine hairs at the nape of Aaron’s neck, sighing as he pressed them slightly closer so their chests were flush against each other. There was no urgency to it, no frantic desperation to have clothes removed as soon as possible. It was just them, unimpeded by time, cradled in each others arms and lazily brushing their lips together.

“What was that for?” Aaron asked softly as he stepped back to gaze up at him, dark lashes obscuring those azure eyes as he blinked.

“Didn’t realise I needed a reason,” Robert replied, already leaning in for another kiss, but was promptly stopped by Aaron’s palm splayed out against his chest, keeping him at a distance.

“We really should unpack.”

That was the very last thing he wanted to hear when Aaron’s lips were so devastatingly close. “We should. Doesn’t mean we have to,” he countered.

Aaron bit back a smile, giving a slight roll of his eyes before dropping his hand from Robert’s chest. “Tell you what. We get all this at least out of the boxes, and I’ll make sure you get a reward.”

“And reward is code for sex?”

Aaron’s eyes widened momentarily, evidently having not expected Robert to be so candid. “Thought that would be obvious.”

“I’m not one to agree to something without reading the fine print.”

Aaron considered it for a moment before taking a step forwards. “Then let me make it crystal clear for you,” he murmured, pressing himself up against Robert and sliding his hand down Robert's stomach before lightly cupping his crotch through the stiff fabric of his jeans. The breath in his throat was suddenly cut off, and it was as though his head had suddenly been filled with cotton wool. “Understand a bit better now?”

“Just about, yeah,” Robert choked out, and Aaron gave a deliciously smug smile which made it infinitely harder to extricate himself and return to the waiting boxes.

The kitchenware was unwrapped with haste and put away in various random cupboards which Robert planned to sort out later, while simultaneously being sure that they would never find their way into any form of order. He would have minded before - his kitchen in the other flat had been almost freakishly neat, a direct result of excess time and little-to-no company - but now he felt unfazed by it.

The rest of the boxes were a jumbled assortment of Robert’s comics, books, music and things for the bedroom and bathroom. They piled up the towels, duvet, pillows, bed sheets etc. onto the floor and decided they would put it in their respective rooms later on. After all, Aaron had promised a reward after getting things out of the boxes, not once they had tidied it all away.

Robert’s clothes were the last thing to sort, and while his laziness - not to mention his aching cock - meant he was less inclined to put everything into wardrobes and drawers, his vanity superseded both, something he wasn’t entirely proud of. Aaron rolled his eyes as he gently folded up his jeans, hung his suits on their wooden hangers, and even made two, neat columns of socks to be tucked into the top dresser drawer.

“What? I don’t want anything getting creased,” he explained, even if part of him did agree it was a bit much. It struck him suddenly that he’d never had anyone see this side of him. His relationships, such as they were, had always been short lived and had never made it into domestic territory. And while he couldn’t possibly class what he and Aaron had as anything remotely resembling a fully-fledged relationship, he couldn’t deny that this particular scenario smacked of domesticity. It made the hairs on his arms stand on-end, his mind suddenly hyper-aware of what they were doing, how this would look to the outside world. The two of them, unpacking boxes, teasing each other and bickering over such trivial matters… All of it felt so much like they were a couple.

He had never really questioned it, not in all the time he and Aaron had been… well, there wasn’t really a word for what they were. Nothing fitted. Nothing which he was comfortable with, at any rate. Together. An item. Boyfriends. Even the vaguest of labels had him feeling penned-in, constricted, as if someone was about to wrap him up in a rainbow flag and ask him whether he preferred being top or bottom. But now he was questioning it, picking apart everything that had got them to this point, pouring over the minutiae of the past few weeks to work out when it had all shifted, when this had all got so bloody real. How had he gone from half-running Aaron over with his car to moving in with him?

“Want me to go grab the other suitcase?” Aaron asked, cutting into his internal breakdown.

Robert nodded, glad of the opportunity to be alone, even for a second. His mind was spiraling while his body remained frighteningly motionless, as if the slightest movement would send him hurtling over the precipice.

How had he never asked these questions before? How had it got to this point without him once taking the time to simply realise what was happening? Since the moment he had first met Aaron, he had felt blindsided, and it was as though he had never truly found his feet again; permanently tipped a little off balance, his equilibrium pitched to one side as he ploughed on regardless. And he was usually so careful, always three or four steps ahead just to stay in control. But now, with the reality of their situation finally dawning on him, he saw how utterly naive he had been. His sister had already started making assumptions, no doubt others would follow suit, and soon the entire village - but in particular his family - would have made up their minds about him. And God only knew what ideas they would concoct, even amongst the most genuine and innocent of minds. It was hardly as though Emmerdale was renowned for its rationality when it came to rumour and gossip.

He dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, finding Victoria’s number in his contact list without fully understanding what he planned on doing. He told himself this was as much for Aaron as it was for himself - they had failed to tell his sister that Aaron’s existence in Emmerdale was to remain a secret, and so this phone call would naturally be to protect him as well as Robert. He told himself that this was not just self-preservation, that this was not just about saving himself, but it was a lie and he knew it.

“Vic?” he said immediately after an excruciating two-second wait while the line rang.

“Missing me already?” she joked, and the lightness in her tone set him immediately at ease. He could do this, he could work this out. No one needed to know.

“Every minute of every day,” he replied, and her chuckle only drove that sliver of guilt deeper into his gut. He ignored it, deciding this was too important to let his conscience take over. “Look, I need to ask you a favour, actually. Nothing big, it’s about Aaron.”

“Oh?”

Robert paused for a moment, listening for any footsteps coming down the hallway. There were none, and he satisfied himself that Aaron was still wrestling with getting the other suitcase zipped and upright.

“You haven’t told anyone that he’s staying here, have you?”

“No. Why? Should I have?” Vic asked, and now he heard the prickle of concern edging into her voice. He bit the inside of his cheek, stole himself, and kept going.

“I need you to promise me you won’t tell anyone.” It sounded bad. Of course it did, how could it not? He sounded even more like he was hiding his gay lover from the world than he had done before, and Robert could already tell the series of questions which she was about to launch at him.

“Run that by me again?”

“It’s not a big deal-”

“Well, it must be if you want me to lie,” Vic cut in, and he couldn’t quite tell whether the sharpness of her words was due more to anger or worry.

“Not lie,” he corrected, “just not tell anyone. There’s a difference.”

“And why do I have to? I thought you said there was nothing going on.”

“There isn’t. It’s got nothing to do with me.” It did. It had everything to do with him, but he told himself Vic didn’t need to know that part. Just an innocent, little white lie. The truth with an asterisk.

“So… why, then?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing that, just once, his sister would simply accept what he asked of her without it involving a bloody inquisition, Spanish or otherwise. “He doesn’t want anyone knowing where he is."

“Oh God, Robert, do you really know anything about him? He could be a mass murderer for all you know!”

“I’m pretty sure he’s not,” Robert said, rolling his eyes. Her concern was sweet, but her over-dramatic nature was beginning to stretch his patience well beyond its usual limits. “He just needs to lie low, get off the radar. And I would really appreciate it if you didn’t mention to anyone that he’s staying here… with me.”

“Well, if that’s what you want then I’ll do it. But I think you should nudge him in the direction of the property pages, and soon. He doesn’t exactly sound like a law-abiding citizen.”

“It’s fine, Vic. You don’t have to worry. Just as long as you don’t tell anyone… Adam included.”

“Oh, come on, Rob,” Vic exclaimed, and she was back to being exasperated again. “I’m not keeping secrets from my husband.”

“You wouldn’t be! You can tell him I’m back, I’ll even come and say hello if you want, be the dutiful brother-in-law. Just don’t mention Aaron. It’s not a lie.”

“Trust you to twist it like that,” she said, but her voice was softer, resigned. She’d given in, thankfully.

“Thanks, Vic.”

“I never agreed, actually.”

“But you will.”

He heard her sigh and wondered if his confidence had been premature. Despite how strong-willed she could be, Robert had always had the knack of getting her on side. But so much had happened since those times, their relationship strained to breaking point on more than one occasion, and maybe it just wasn’t going to be that easy anymore.

“Yes, I will. But I’m not best pleased.”

He smiled, relief flooding through him. “I know. Would it help if I said your cake was delicious?”

“It’s a start. But I’m going to want you to buy me a very large glass of wine at some point, and I also want you take me out in that flash car of yours. Somewhere posh, a proper treat,” she replied, and at least that was something he could do. In fact, he’d make a mental note to book them a table somewhere fancy, somewhere he knew she’d like. It was the least he could do, really, and maybe it would give them a chance to talk, to get closer again.

“Deal.”

“All right. That all you called for?”

“And to hear my beautiful little sister’s voice,” he said smoothly, and grinned as he heard her give a soft snort.

“Ok, you can stop laying it on with a trowel. I’ve agreed already, remember.”

“No harm in gaining a few brownie points.”

“Goodbye, Robert,” Vic said firmly, but he could tell she wasn’t angry, which was something at least.

“All right, all right. Bye. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hung up just as Aaron shoved the suitcase into the bedroom, looking slightly flustered and disgruntled. “What the Hell do you have in this thing? Bricks?”

“Shoes and clothes, that’s it,” he said, sliding his mobile back into his pocket and going to help him push the suitcase onto its side and unzip it. He laid out his boots and shoes along the back wall before yanking out his leather jackets and brushing them down.

“Oh, that reminds me,” he said, momentarily forgetting about his near-meltdown and his conversation with Vic. “You haven’t seen my green Barbour jacket, have you? Or my blue waterproof? I can’t find them anywhere.”

Aaron instantly froze, hands half-grasped around a bundle of jumpers, and Robert wondered what he could possibly have said which would affect him so suddenly.

“Aaron?”

“Shit. I forgot about… Shit.”

It was an odd reaction to have, considering how minor the question had been, and Robert wondered whether Aaron was thinking about something else entirely. “Are we still talking about the jackets?” he asked, now wracking his brain for something else he could have said which would prompt Aaron to look so… panicked.

Robert watched in confusion as Aaron shoved the jumpers onto the bed and stood, chewing viciously on his bottom lip. His panic had subsided now, and had been replaced with guilt, which was hardly less strange.

“Um… Do you remember when we were at that bar in town? When that guy… you know?”

He did. Vividly. It was the night they first had sex. He was hardly likely to forget. “Yeah. Course.”

“And I was wearing your jacket.”

Oh. So that’s where it had gotten to. “It’s still at the bar, then?”

Aaron nodded, still barely able to meet Robert’s eye. It was almost sweet how worried he seemed about it. “Probably. Or in the Lost and Found.”

“And the blue anorak?” he enquired, which only made Aaron look even more sheepish than before. He was practically wincing.

“I sort of… gave it to someone else,” Aaron admitted hesitantly.

Robert forced down a smile, but failed to repress the quip which practically forced its way out of his mouth. “Anyone in particular, or were you just feeling generous?”

Aaron sighed, giving him a pleading look. “A friend. Sort of. He’s like me… like I used to be. I found him half-frozen on the street and I just wrapped it round him so he could get warm, but… well, then I went to see Ronnie and I forgot… I’m sorry. I’ll buy you new ones.”

Robert had watched him suffer long enough, and now he broke down into a smile. “It’s fine. At least I know I’m not going senile. Started to think I was losing my marbles.”

Aaron didn’t look convinced by how easily he had been forgiven. “I really am sorry. I did mean to tell you, I just-”

“Yeah, you forgot. Not got a great track record with the whole ‘memory’ thing, have you?”

Now Aaron did allow himself a weak smile, shaking his head. “Guess not. Although… it sort of depends on how memorable it is. There’s definitely some things I wouldn’t forget in a hurry.”

There was a glint to his eyes now which, imperceptible as it would have been to anyone else, Robert noticed instantly. “Oh, yeah?” he said, voice pitching marginally lower as he took a step forwards. The air had suddenly become thicker, heavier around him, and anticipation made him shudder.

“Mm-hmm,” was all Aaron said, lips pressed together as he focused Robert with an intense stare, conveying everything he hadn’t put into words through that one look.

“Think we’ve done enough unpacking, don’t you?” Robert murmured, already unbuttoning the first of his shirt buttons. Aaron quirked his mouth into a smirk, evidently on the exact same page, and stopped Robert’s fingers nimbly working down the rest of the buttons, instead tugging on the material till they were mere inches apart.

“Think we have, yeah.”

Robert discarded all thoughts about relationships and commitment and his sister, instead focusing his full attention on the feel of their soft, warm mouths moulded together, the slip of their tongues as they pressed closer together.

Aaron wasn’t the only one who could have a selective memory.

They ended up spending their evening surrounded by empty boxes, sat on the floor of the living-room eating Chinese out of containers. Robert’s belly ached from an afternoon spent largely straddling Aaron, or between his thighs, or pressed up against his back. It was one high after another, and just as the last of the adrenaline ebbed away, he would feel soft fingertips brush against his skin and that shiver of desire would creep across him as it always did, and soon they would be going again. It was a manic kind of hunger, one which never seemed sated for long, and even while they were tangled together, burning fiercely, it was never enough. He kept pulling closer, pushing deeper, desperate to feel every inch of Aaron against him.

Now, spent and exhausted, they sat with their legs spread out in front of them, leaning back against the bottom of the sofa as they half-watched Liverpool slaughtering Aston Villa. Their bare shoulders were pressed together, anchored against each other as they scraped out the last of their Kung Po Chicken.

Against the soft glow coming from the side lamp, Aaron’s scars were barely visible, the red reduced to a faded pink, the silver-white melting into the pale skin of his abdomen. Robert had stroked his fingers against them while he’d gone down on Aaron, thumbs tracing up the raised, jagged edges as they both arched into each other. He hadn’t been thinking about them then, not properly, but now he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“You really want to know, don’t you?” Aaron asked, giving him a side-glance which was at once open and wary at the same time. Those conflicting versions of himself still warring inside his head for dominance.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Robert said gently, though truthfully he’d been dying to know about them ever since he’d first seen Aaron naked.

Aaron glanced down at his torso, staring hard at the scars as though he were seeing them for the first time, before glancing up to Robert again. “Yeah, but you want to know.”

He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant even if his curiosity was off the charts. “It’s a pretty big part of you to ignore.”

“Suppose.” He looked closed off again, drawing into himself so that he was angled away from Robert. He hated how quickly Aaron switched from being open and honest to suddenly shutting down completely. And he hated it even more because he had no idea how to stop it.

“It’s fine. Really. I’m fine not knowing,” he eventually said, deciding it was easier just admitting defeat than dragging them both into an argument neither of them wanted to have.

Aaron huffed, drawing his knees up to his chest so the scars could no longer be seen. Robert dropped his gaze, repressing the questions he still desperately wanted to ask, and grabbed the beer bottle sitting beside him and drained the last of the amber liquid from the bottom. He was just about to get up and go through to the kitchen to get them both two more when Aaron suddenly cleared his throat. Robert turned back towards him, slumping back against the arm of the sofa, and waited for Aaron to speak.

“I was off the rails as a teenager. Getting into fights, hanging around with the wrong sort, suspended from school… I got kicked out of my dad’s house, best thing he ever did. But I couldn’t go back to my mum’s, she wouldn’t have had me, and I didn’t have anyone else.”

It wasn’t what he’d imagined Aaron would come out with, but he stayed silent, instead focusing all his attention on the way Aaron’s chest rose and fell quickly as his breathing became shallow, and on his hands which clasped and unclasped as his mind worked over whatever he planned on saying next.

“I got chatting to a guy while I was staying with my mate,” he continued, staring off into the distance as if lost in the memories. “Said he could put some work my way, just odd jobs, cash in hand. I was stupid and I needed money, so I said yes. Next day he got me to deliver a package - I didn’t even question it, just did it. And when I got a wad of cash handed to me, I thought I had it made. I was so fucking stupid.”

“You were young,” Robert corrected, but Aaron wasn’t listening.

“When I eventually worked out what was going on, I was already in too deep. And I didn’t think what I was doing was so bad. Just delivering a package from one place to another… I convinced myself it was all fine, that it wasn’t even illegal.”

“How long did you do it for?” Robert asked, and this time Aaron heard him. He rubbed the back of his neck, the pads of his fingers digging too hard into the skin, before his hand fell back to his side.

“Started when I was sixteen,” he answered, voice worryingly matter-of-fact. “Worked for them for almost three years. They trusted me, I was good for them - a clean record and young enough to slip passed anyone who might ask questions. They gave me bigger jobs to handle as I got older, told me I could make it big with them. And I believed it all, because I had money and a place to stay and the McFarlane’s were just… I don’t know, they seemed like family at the time.”

Aaron paused, wrapping his arms around his knees and shaking his head. “But they weren’t. They were only good to you when you were good to them. I fucked up a job - it probably would have gone tits up even if I hadn’t been there, but I made it worse. The dealer I was making the handover to wanted to negotiate on the price, thought he could do a deal. So I punched him, thought I was a real hard man. His boys set on me, kicked the shit out of me, and they took everything. Two grands worth of stock.”

Robert winced, because he could already sense where this was heading.

“What did the McFarlane’s do to you?”

“Probably thought about skinning me alive. But that wouldn’t have got their money back, so they told me I needed to raise it myself, anyway I could.” Aaron stopped, turning to Robert with glassy, blue eyes. “Not many options to earn that kind of cash quickly without…”

Robert nodded, trying to look unfazed by everything he’d just heard but failing miserably. He could feel the dread coiling tight in his stomach, but he ignored it, knowing this wasn’t about him. He had no right to be focusing on himself when Aaron was finally opening up.

“You meet some dodgy people in the drugs business, so I already knew my fair share of prostitutes. Got in touch, told them about needing money quick. They sent me to Ronnie. I explained everything to him and he was so… God, he was so nice. Gave me the money upfront, told me to pay the debt and then I could pay him back a little at a time. I couldn’t believe it - I thought I was finally free. Didn’t realise I was just walking into a bigger trap.”

He cleared his throat, grabbing his beer bottle off the coffee table and taking three quick gulps before slamming it back down on the wooden top.

“I got the McFarlane’s off my back, and then I went back to Ronnie, promised I’d pay him every penny with interest. He said there was no pressure, said he could get me some boxing matches, nothing serious. Said I could be a proper champion if I worked hard. So I did that for a year. But the money dried up - I was smaller than most of the other lads, not as strong, and I lost more than I won. Ronnie lost patience, said he’d be waiting years before I could pay him everything. I felt so guilty, after all he’d done for me…”

“He took advantage,” Robert ground out, unable to stifle his anger any longer.

Aaron gave a half-shrug, eyes fixed on the floor. “He said I’d make more money as a rent-boy, and at least sex wasn’t something I could lose at. I didn’t have a choice, not when I owed him. So I went along with it. But that first time…” He stopped again, and there were tears clogging up his throat, Robert could see him swallowing every few seconds as old memories resurfaced with a vengeance. He desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, hold him, but it wasn’t what he needed right now. So Robert stayed exactly where he was, and waited.

“That first time,” Aaron pushed on, sniffing hard, “I bottled it. I was in this guy’s car, and I couldn’t even kiss him. I was so fucking scared, and he had his hands on me and I just… couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak. I ran for it, straight back to Ronnie. And he told me it was fine, told me he forgave me. So I owed him again, and he made sure I knew it. Made sure I knew not to fuck up again, even if he didn’t say it like that. And that night… It was like I could still feel the guy’s hands on me, like I was back in his car and… I just needed to make it stop.”

He pressed his hand to his stomach, fingers digging into the scars, and let out one sob before clamping his mouth shut against the rest. Robert couldn’t stand it anymore - he pushed himself forwards and dragged Aaron into a hug, pressing him close against his chest.

“I just… It helped,” Aaron confessed, the words muffled as he buried his head into Robert’s shoulder. “It was so rough, those first few weeks. I didn’t know what I was doing, and some of the guys I got with… None of them saw me. I might as well have not been there. Just a mouth to suck them off, that’s it. And then I’d go back to the boxing club, and hand over the money to Ronnie, and… It felt like I was nothing. I didn’t know what else to do, how else to-”

“God, Aaron, I-” Robert couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words. What use was an apology to Aaron now? He’d been through so much, had been told over and over that he was worth nothing, that he meant nothing to no one. How could ‘sorry’ ever be enough to fix that?

“You don’t have to think that anymore,” he said instead, rocking Aaron gently as the sobs broke in his chest like waves crashing against the shore. “You hear me? You never have to think that again.” He didn’t know whether it was helping, whether the words were even getting through, but he needed to say something, anything which might show Aaron he was worth so much more than he'd been given.

He pressed his lips to Aaron’s hair, to his temple, kissed him softly against his cheekbones as he heard the whimpers subside. Aaron was clutching onto him, nails digging into his back, and he was shaking so badly that it was making Robert shake, too.

“God, I’m sorry,” he heard Aaron mumble into his skin, and immediately pulled him closer.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I’m glad you told me.”

Aaron exhaled deeply, goosebumps peppering his arms as he disentangled himself from Robert’s strong grip enough to look up at him. His blue eyes still shone with tears. “Yeah, me too. I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robert ignored the fear which rose inside him, the gravity of such a responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders. Instead, he gently stroked the edge of Aaron’s jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath his thumb, and glanced briefly down at Aaron’s torso.

“You promise me you’re not doing that now?”

Aaron shook his head, the tears now drying on his cheeks, and Robert decided not to push him for a more concrete answer. The hardest part was over at least. Aaron had told him about his past - not all of it, they’d barely even scratched the surface, but it was more than he had imagined he’d get.

“Want me to clear up?” Aaron asked, voice still thready, and gestured towards the empty Chinese containers and beer bottles in front of them.

“No. Leave it till the morning. Why don’t we just get an early night?” he suggested instead, and was glad when Aaron’s shoulders dropped in relief. They switched the television off before padding through to their room, Robert unable to stop his gaze roaming over Aaron’s face for any sign that he might break again. But he just looked weary, as if he had been emotionally drained by their conversation.

They slipped under the covers, the darkness enveloping them both as exhaustion overtook. Robert stretched out his arm across the pillows and smiled when Aaron tucked himself into his chest, one arm wrapped around his waist as he curled in closer. It still unnerved him, how much peace could be found in Aaron’s presence, how his body reacted so quickly to his touch, relaxing into it as if it was the only time he felt calm.

He listened to Aaron’s breathing steady, eyes closed to the shadows which shifted and merged in front of him. But he couldn’t stop Aaron’s words haunting him as he tried to force himself into sleep, or the sound of Aaron’s voice breaking as he finally collapsed into the sobs.

It felt like I was nothing. That’s what Aaron had said, and it twisted in his gut till he could barely breathe with it. He shifted slightly, leaning in to press a kiss against Aaron’s forehead, and stared through the darkness, trying desperately to see even the outline of Aaron’s sleeping form nestled against him.

“You’re not nothing,” he whispered, so quietly that he was practically mouthing the words. And he meant them, so much more than he would ever dare admit. Because in truth, Aaron was starting to mean everything to him.

Chapter Text

Aaron wasn’t used to people treading carefully around him. In fact, he wasn’t used to people giving his feelings a seconds thought. But Robert had spent the entirety of the morning repeatedly asking him if he was all right, if he needed anything, if he wanted to talk, if he wanted to sleep a bit more, if he fancied going for a walk… It might have been annoying if it wasn’t so unusual. As it was, the novelty just made him smile and shake his head for the hundredth time.

“You should get out, though. Maybe not today, but at some point.”

They were sat at opposite sides of the kitchen counter, Robert typing furiously on his laptop while Aaron nursed his steaming, black coffee. He hadn’t slept well, their talk the night before having dredged up memories he would much rather have kept buried. Feelings of loneliness, of fear, of sickening hatred towards himself which just burned in the pit of his stomach and made his skin itch. When he’d woken early, his torso had been clawed by restless fingers while he’d dreamt, and Robert had blanched to see the skin so red and raw. Aaron had immediately turned away from him, not wanting to show how pathetic he was even in his subconscious, but hiding it had proven entirely futile. Robert had pulled him back round, placing cool hands against his stomach and kissing the side of his temple.

They’d stayed wrapped up together under the duvet for a good hour, the white light of dawn filtering through the curtains until neither of them could stand to have it blinding them a minute more. Aaron had expected Robert to start again with more questions, to ask about the last time he’d cut himself, why he’d stopped, if he was ever tempted to start again. But he hadn’t. Either because he knew Aaron wasn’t ready to reveal that yet, or because he was too afraid of the answers, he couldn’t be sure. But he had been glad all the same.

“You know I can’t. Someone might see me,” Aaron replied, trying hard to keep the sharpness from his voice. Robert had been so good, so kind, that it would have been ungrateful to throw it all back at him now, even if they were broaching a subject Aaron desperately wanted to avoid.

The typing slowed, Robert’s fingers now resting against the keys as he looked up from the screen. “So what’s the plan, then? Never breathe fresh air again?”

Aaron dropped his gaze to his coffee, swallowing a mouthful of the hot, bitter liquid and wincing as his tongue was scalded. It was doing nothing for his exhaustion either, just making him jittery and on-edge. As if he needed help with that.

“Just drop it,” he warned, knee bouncing under the counter. He was still reeling from everything he’d said yesterday, old wounds suddenly exposed and raw and hurting. The last thing he needed was to delve into yet another area of his life which was entirely fucked up.

Robert pushed the lid of his laptop down, lips pressed into a thin line. “No, I won’t. Because you’re not thinking this through. Chances are, no one would even recognise you now. You haven’t been back here in years.”

“Well I’m not risking it!” he bit back, the fear and anger now a cocktail inside him… a molotov cocktail.

“Aaron, what are you gonna do? Stay inside for the rest of your life, like some kind of recluse? You’ll go mad!”

“I’ll figure something out,” he said, but truthfully, he had no idea what he was going to do. Coming back here had been an impulse decision, borne from a fear of returning to Ronnie, to his old life. He’d done it out of necessity, not because he actually wanted to, and now that fact felt like a sledgehammer to his gut.

“You’ve only got two options. You either never leave these four walls, basically making you a hermit. Or, you accept that your family are going to find out you're back, and start making up for lost time. Like me.”

Robert was looking at him like it was case closed, like he’d just solved the fucking Rubik’s cube that was Aaron’s life. Except he hadn’t, because neither of those options would work. He knew he couldn’t stay cooped up indoors forever, but even the idea of leaving the safety of the flat and possibly bumping into one of his family members was unthinkable. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t.

“Oh yeah, cause your family are dying to patch things up with you, aren’t they?” he snapped, deciding that if he wasn’t going to get Robert to stop through pleading, he’d give back as good as he was getting.

“Well, at least I’m trying,” Robert muttered, but he looked wounded, defeated, and guilt ate away at Aaron’s resolve. He sighed, pushing his mug away to reach across and take Robert’s hand, squeezing it till Robert eventually looked up and met his gaze.

“Look, I know you just want to help. And you’re right, I can’t stay inside for the rest of my life, I know that. But I’m not ready to see them, not yet. I need time. All right?” He sounded calm, but his insides were squirming with dread, needing to have this issue terminated. He couldn’t handle thinking about it any longer, far less dissecting it all in front of him.

“Fine,” Robert sighed, not looking as satisfied as Aaron had hoped. “I promised Vic I’d take her out to lunch, spend some time with her. You know, building bridges.”

Aaron’s jaw locked in frustration. Why couldn’t he just let it go?

“Great. Have a good time.”

He heard Robert sigh before scraping back his chair, but Aaron kept his eyes fixed on the mug gripped in his hands, refusing to give in.

“You can text me if you need anything picking up. Or the shop’s just down the road, if you suddenly feel a bit adventurous.”

“I won’t,” Aaron said flatly, regret already creeping up on him as Robert left the kitchen. He didn’t look round until the front door slammed shut a few minutes later.

It turned out that spending an entire afternoon curled up on the sofa sounded a Hell of a lot better than the reality. He’d managed to make a significant dent in Robert’s Game of Thrones boxset, not to mention the the gallon of coffee he’d drank just to keep himself from slipping back into his dreams. Now it was just gone three and his bones were rattling with excess energy, fingers tapping off the arm of the sofa as he eyed the clock. Robert would be back soon. And then there’d be the usual questions of ‘how has your day been?’ and ‘did you get up to much while I was gone?’ which would, of course, lead them back to their earlier conversation.

Aaron sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Rain was pattering against the window, a comforting, relentless drumming which helped to drown out the heavy feeling in his chest that was oh-so familiar. Trapped.

He could see Robert’s coat hanging on the hook on the front door. It wasn’t mocking him, but goading him, the thick, padded hood almost whispering encouragements to him. You could do it. No one would even notice you. Just for five minutes. Do it. Go on. Do it.

The air around him felt warm and cloying, his head now throbbing as the four cups of coffee began to wear off. He got to his feet, still not sure whether he’d even make it to the door, and kept his eyes trained on the coat which was now looking less and less like a ticket to freedom, and resembling more a straight-jacket.

He yanked it off the hook and pushed his arms through the sleeves, marvelling at how long Robert’s arms must be as his hands all but disappeared inside the cuffs. The spare set of keys - “Aaron, they’re your keys, just take them” - were sat on the worktop, evidently another reminder left by Robert that he should go outside. It was almost enough to have him re-evaluating his decision through sheer stubbornness alone, but eventually he wrapped his fingers round the cold, sharp metal, ignoring the image of Robert’s smug smile which flashed before him for a second, and tugged open the front door.

The road was slick with ice and Aaron skidded slightly as his feet left the gravel, the tarmac glistening under the weak, winter sunlight peaking from between a smear of grey clouds. Aaron pulled up his hood, keeping his head down as he slowly made his way from Mill Cottage up towards the centre of the village. He passed the shop named David’s - Aaron almost rolled his eyes at lack of originality before walking on - and came to the main street with its church and rows of pretty, terraced cottages. He was just about to keep going when his eye caught another gravel driveway to his right and he turned, heart stammering as he read the sign above the garage:

DINGLE & DINGLE

CAR SALES - SERVICES - REPAIRS - PART EX. TEL. 01756 759372

He could just about remember his uncle working there, although the name suggested there was more than one member of his family now running the place. He stood just staring at the white, wooden building, wondering how many more revelations he would uncover in this village that had something to do with his family. He was hit by the sudden realisation that time hadn’t stood still since he’d been away - that everyone had carried on with their lives, had moved on without him. He shouldn’t really have expected any different.

His hands were almost numb from the cold and he pushed them deep into his coat pockets, turning away from the garage and heading up the street towards The Woolpack. Robert had told him the night before they left for Emmerdale that his mother was still living in the village and that she now co-owned the local pub. Somehow, he hadn’t been able to see it. The woman he remembered from his childhood was scatter-brained and brash, hardly the two best qualities for a businesswoman to have. Then again, if time had changed him, then how likely was it that it had done the same to her? Perhaps she was completely different now.

It was strange, how nostalgic he felt being back, despite having never thought of this village as his home. He still remembered the village hall, the cafe, the B&B as if he had never been away, and each brought with it a snapshot of his old life which he had imagined lost to him. He was just reaching The Woolpack when he heard a door open further down the street and turned, startled by the sudden movement in the deserted street. A young man, about Aaron’s age, was just shrugging on his jacket and pulling the door closed of one of the cottages. He blew air into his hands as he headed up towards him, dark hair curling slightly with the rain. Aaron could do nothing but watch, unable to move or speak as the man came closer, having now clocked him.

“You all right, mate?” he called out as he approached, giving Aaron a warm smile as he slowed his steps. Aaron glanced at the pub before turning back towards the man who was now just a few feet away from him.

“What?”

He offered another smile, intense and warm and strangely infectious. “You looked a bit lost. Just wondered if you were all right?” He was now looking between Aaron and the pub, eyes squinting against the weak, afternoon sunlight, and Aaron shrugged, trying his best to act normal despite not being able to hear anything above his hammering heart.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied nervously, wishing he had just stayed at home. This had been a terrible idea.

“Not sure I’ve seen you round here before. You just visiting?” the man continued, evidently unaware of Aaron’s growing unease.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Cool. Sure you don’t need me to point you in the right direction?” He was almost frustratingly friendly, like an eager dog ready to be petted or fed a treat. Aaron’s jaw locked, knowing that a harsh fuck off would have only drawn more attention to himself and possibly ended with him flat on his back and a swollen jaw.

“No, I’m good, thanks. Just fancied stretching my legs,” he said instead, head ducked low again and praying for this conversation to end.

The younger guy gave a hesitant nod, taking a tentative step forwards. “Fair enough. See you around, then.”

“Yeah. See you,” Aaron muttered, watching him head up the road. His breath was coming out in short wisps against the frozen air, his body easing back into some semblance of calm while his mind continued to race with what had just happened. What if it hadn’t been some stranger who had stopped to talk to him? What if it had been Cain or Zak… or his mum?

His head was pulsating now, a heavy thud drilling into his skull and making it impossible to think clearly. He needed to go home, to feel safe again. He’d stayed out long enough, and Robert might finally get off his case now. It was enough for today.

He was just heading back down the road, already feel the knot in his stomach loosening, when he heard laughter echoing out across the village. He half-turned, his face shielded partly by the hood, and let out a sharp breath as he saw a woman emerging from the pub, cardigan wrapped tightly around her as she laughed again, talking to someone inside.

Mum.

She looked the same. Older, and the poker straight hair had gone, but she was still the same. Still loud and spiky and with a laugh you could hear from miles away. God, he had missed her so much.

Aaron took a half-step back, the ice making it difficult for him to find any balance, and just stared as she grabbed the two pint glasses sat slowly freezing on one of the outside tables. He opened his mouth to say something, to shout her name, but his voice had gone. He could barely breathe, the tears filling up his throat till he felt like he was drowning.

And then she was gone, disappearing back through the door as if she’d never been there. He stayed standing, blinking rapidly as his whole world started to crack, but eventually his feet jolted into action, carrying him back down the street, skidding as he rounded the corner and saw Mill Cottage up ahead. The tears were hot against his numb cheeks, and he bit down on his tongue, grappling for the keys which had got tangled up in his coat pocket.

His hands were shaking badly and he pushed his full body-weight into opening the door as quickly as possible, but even once it was closed behind him and he was safely back inside the flat, he couldn’t seem to get control over his breathing. He could hear it rasping in his chest, jagged and torn, and felt the tears dripping from his lashes as he sunk down onto the floor. He hadn’t thought it would hurt this much. To see her after all this time, to feel that same potent mixture of love and hatred for the woman who had abandoned him and who had barely made up for it since. He hadn’t known it would still blind him like it had done when he was a child, when his heart had been so overwhelmed with pain that there was no space for anything else. But now it tore at him, just as it had done then, only now it was so much worse because he had told himself that he was over it.

A sob ripped its way free and he pushed his knuckles into the hard wooden floor, grinding them down until the physical pain was enough to dampen some of the agony. His jaw ached from having been clenching it so hard and for so long, and now he let it slacken, exhaling deeply as he slumped against the wall. The flat was eerily quiet, shadows submerging him in cool darkness. He closed his eyes, chest still heaving as the last of his sobs ebbed, and then there was just nothingness. Nothing other than the raw, unforgiving reality that his mother was happy, that her life was not mired in pain and fear as his was, that her past was but a dot on the horizon, rather than a looming presence intent on destroying her.

She had moved on. And left him behind… again.

He sniffed, rubbing his throbbing knuckles and letting the final tears dampen his cheeks. He knew he should get up but he wasn’t entirely sure his legs would take his weight just yet. And there was a part of him which just didn’t care enough to pretend. He’d gone so long convincing himself that he didn’t need her, that he didn’t need anyone. That he could deal with everything on his own, that he was better off by himself. But he wasn’t. He never had been.

The warmth from the flat was just beginning to seep back into his skin when he heard footsteps outside. He didn’t have the time or the energy to stand before the door opened and Robert stepped inside, already half-shrugging out of his leather jacket when he noticed Aaron sitting on the floor next to the kitchen door.

“Aaron?” he asked warily, just staring for a moment before switching on the main light. Aaron blinked, the sudden brightness blinding him, and the remnants of a tear dropping from his lashes and trickling down his cheek.

Robert was suddenly beside him, crouched low with a cold hand firm against his shoulder. “Hey. What’s wrong? What’s happened?” His voice was so soft that it made his throat swell again with tears but he pushed them down this time, leaning forwards to rest his head against Robert’s.

“I saw her,” was all he managed to say, each word catching painfully as he felt himself pulled back to that moment he first laid eyes on his mother again.

They fluttered shut now as he felt Robert’s fingers brush against his cheek. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. Couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything. I just stood there.”

“Did she see you?” he asked, and Aaron shook his head, letting himself sink a little deeper into Robert’s touch. How was it that the only time he felt safe was when Robert’s arms were around him?

“I’m sorry, Aaron. I should never have pushed you-”

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered, gripping onto Robert’s forearms. “It was going to happen eventually.” He sounded a lot more accepting of it than he felt, and he dropped his head till it was nestled against Robert’s neck. His skin was frozen but Aaron just buried his nose deeper, wanting to feel lost in Robert’s touch.

“It’ll get easier.” He didn’t sound very convincing, but Aaron nodded all the same, wanting at least one of them to be comforted by the words. He pulled back a little, nose dragging along Robert’s jaw before letting his head fall back against the wall.

“How was your sister?” he asked, deciding a change in conversation was necessary if he was to retain any composure at all.

Robert’s soft expression shifted, his features becoming angular and sharp as he looked away.

“That bad?” Aaron enquired, reaching out to take his hand.

Robert blew out harshly through his nose before giving Aaron a dejected look. “We ended up talking about Andy… Let’s just say it went downhill from there.”

“Well, at least I know I’m not the only with a messed up family,” he said, smiling feebly as he got to his feet. Robert followed, the two of them heading through to the living-room which was shrouded in darkness. Aaron switched on the side-lamp and collapsed back into the sofa, pulling Robert after him. It only took them a few seconds to get comfortable, Robert stretched out across the entire three-seater, feet propped up on the arm, while Aaron lay nestled between his legs, head rested on Robert’s chest.

“You been watching Game of Thrones?” he asked as he flicked through the programmes on the Sky box.

Aaron smiled, wrapping an arm tightly around Robert’s waist. “I’m not too far in. We can go back to the start if you want?”

Robert kissed the top of Aaron’s head, pressing play on the next episode. “It’s all right. I’ve seen it twice already.”

“Not sure you should be admitting that. Might not have agreed to live with you if I knew you were this sad."

Robert pinched his arm and pulled him in tighter. “You love me really,” he murmured into his hair before settling back into the sofa. Aaron froze a little, muscles tensing as he replayed the words over in his head.

He bit his lip against the confirmation he so desperately wanted to say, forcing it down with a hard swallow, but it didn’t stop him thinking it as pressed his cheek into Robert’s shirt.

I don’t know what it feels like to love someone. Not sure I can. But God, if there was ever a reason to learn, it’s you.

Chapter Text

Robert collapsed back onto the bed, face down into the pillows, and pushed the box he’d just un-wedged from the letter box into Aaron’s lap.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, still half-asleep.

“A phone. You needed one, remember?” Robert groaned, desperately trying to slip back into sleep even though he knew it was pointless. He could barely sleep at night, and that was when he was exhausted. Trying to close his eyes now would be futile.

“You shouldn’t have.” It wasn’t said in that ‘i’m-pretending-i-don’t-want-this-but-secretly-i’m-so-happy-to-be-given-a-present’ kind of tone, but rather the ‘why-can’t-you-stop-acting-like-the-rich-twat-who-feels-the-need-to-flash-his-cash’. Robert blew hot air into the soft cotton before pushing himself up on his elbows and giving Aaron his most innocent look.

“It’s just a cheap smartphone, barely cost me anything,” he explained, and Aaron’s scowl was already softening as he fingered the corners of the box.

“I didn’t ask-”

“I know you didn’t,” Robert cut him off, now leaning forward to nudge Aaron’s arm with his nose. “But you need a phone, and like I said, it barely cost me anything. Just accept it, please?”

“Fine,” Aaron replied, defeated, before giving Robert a gentle smile. “Thanks. I don’t say it enough, but I really am grateful. You know… for everything.”

“I don’t want your thanks.”

“Oh, yeah? Makes it sound like you want something else.”

“You know me too well,” Robert purred, already sliding across the bed, pushing the box onto the floor and hooking his leg over Aaron’s hip and pulling him across until their chests were flush, Aaron staring down at him with a bemused smile. He still seemed slightly groggy from sleep, eyes misty and fluttering, and Robert took advantage of his drowsy state to plant a firm, demanding kiss against his lips. Aaron groaned into it, sinking lower as he exhaled deeply into Robert’s mouth. He wasn’t sure how he could ever get used to this, to the feel of Aaron surrendering like this to him. He knew, maybe not enough, but he knew Aaron wasn’t big on trust. How could he be? But in those brief moments, Aaron let himself go completely, and allowed Robert access to parts of him, physical and emotional, which never saw the light of day otherwise. It was a gift he had never anticipated receiving, and certainly one he had never imagined would leave him so unhinged, so utterly in awe. But it did. Aaron was starting to have that effect on him more and more, actually.

They didn’t rush. It was early, light barely breaking through the opaque darkness, and condensation clung to the glass panes where the hot air inside and the frozen air outside clashed on opposite sides of the window. Robert trailed warm fingers down Aaron’s spine, memorising every dip and rise as if he was mapping foreign terrain, as if he hadn’t touched every millimetre of Aaron’s skin a thousand times over. Every once in a while, when the length of his neck was exposed to hot, wet kisses, the palm of his hand would inadvertently find the patch of skin across his lower back which was indented with scars. He never went looking for it, never deliberately sought them out, but somehow he couldn’t help but linger over them, tracing each with his thumb as Aaron bucked his hips against Robert’s thigh, conveying his need and urgency through hard, forceful thrusts. He never let his thoughts stray too far when he pictured the instrument or tool which had inflicted such damage, or the pain it must have caused. Those kinds of images would have sent him spiralling, and he was already out of control with need.

Aaron rocked against him, their boxers now discarded somewhere at the bottom of the bed, and Robert grinned into his panting mouth, the thrill of being this wanted, this desired, like a frisson of electricity short-circuiting his brain. He reached out his arm and grabbed the lube and condoms which were sat on the bedside table and made quick work of rolling one over his throbbing cock and slicking up his fingers. Aaron was breathing hard against his jaw now, hips pressed hard into him as he whispered a garbled plea that came out as more of a low whine. Robert’s mouth had gone impossibly dry, head swimming with white hot need, and he rolled them over, parting Aaron’s legs without any further hesitation as he dropped his mouth to his inner thigh.

“God, Robert,” he heard him moan as Aaron raised his hips a little off the bed. He had never seen him this desperate, and a part of him wondered if this had anything to do with yesterday, with needing a distraction from the pain, but he pushed the dread down and circled his tongue around Aaron’s entrance, unable to stop from grinning as Aaron choked out a ‘fuck’ as he kneaded his fingers into the sheet.

Patience had never been his strong suit, and with Aaron practically begging to be fucked, his constraints were practically non-existent. He loosened Aaron with little difficulty, working him wide open before repositioning himself and pushing the head of his cock slowly inside.

“Robert.”

He had never heard his name said like that. Like a confession and a prayer all in one. Like a secret only Aaron knew, but was willing to share just with him. It was enough to have his hips jolting, pushing deeper without conscious decision having been made, and Aaron’s head snapped back against the pillow, muscles tightening as he hissed through his teeth. Robert forced himself to slow it down, to take his time, and he pulled back a little, just enough for Aaron to give a noise of complaint, and then he was back to pushing in deeper, eyes closing for a second as he savoured the intense heat radiating from within Aaron’s body.

They found a natural rhythm quickly - the intimacy they shared now was so heightened that they seemed to sense each other’s needs without having to say a word, just feeling their way through it - and Robert angled his hips just slightly upwards until he saw Aaron’s mouth drop open, the pleasure hitting him hard as his whole body convulsed. Robert dragged out each thrust, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Aaron came judging by the damp patch on his belly where his cock was already seeping. He felt delirious with hunger, craving that final release, chasing it with an urgency which had all dignity and grace vanishing in seconds. He was a man possessed, slamming into Aaron with eyes tight shut, his bottom lip dragged in by his teeth as he felt his stomach cramp.

And then all that was left was to abandon what little remained of reality, the whole world reduced to a pinprick as he pushed in one final time, hips juddering as he came. He heard Aaron fisting his own cock, finesse having been discarded for greed as he pumped himself three, four, five times, before his back arched and a thick line of white sprayed out across his chest.

Robert watched it all with intense fascination, his gaze catching on every detail of Aaron’s features, from the twitch of his lip to his black pupils blown wide with pleasure. He took it all in, every minuscule change which happened as he drifted back to Earth from his high, until the cold air on his back pulled him back to his own reality and he pushed off the bed to dispose of the condom.

“You know, one of these days you’re going to put in the same amount of effort as me,” he said as he climbed back up onto the bed, every muscle in his body aching. He stretched into the tension, rolling his neck back and groaning as his entire back spasmed.

“I do plenty for you,” Aaron responded sleepily, rolling onto his side to place a warm palm against Robert’s navel now glistening with sweat.

“I don’t remember you slamming into me so hard I couldn’t breathe.” He was grinning, the obvious implication there for both of them to see.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You really think you’re God’s gift.”

Robert lay back on the crumpled pillows, staring up at the luxurious, cream ceiling. “I’ve always been given a five-star rating.”

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be asking me for a review. Might not like what you hear.”

It was a joke. Robert knew that. But his ego suddenly flared badly, as if it had been seriously wounded, and he couldn’t stop the question which came next. “You’re not serious?”

He sounded pathetic, needy, and far more arrogant then even he knew he was capable of being. But Aaron just huffed a laugh in response and patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t give out five stars for just anyone. You have to seriously impress me to get my complete seal of approval.”

And now Robert realised what was actually being said. It wasn’t a criticism, it was a challenge. Aaron’s eyes were practically glittering with anticipation, rolling onto his back and rubbing his hand along his thigh in open invitation for Robert to follow.

And he did. Because where Aaron was concerned, he was powerless to refuse.

It was just gone eleven when he knocked on the door of Keeper’s Cottage. He and Aaron had spent another good hour wrapped around each other, Robert giving possibly his finest performance all in an attempt at getting Aaron to concede to giving him a gold star. And he had done. Eventually. After much pleading and even a bit of tickling, Aaron had admitted that Robert was, by far, the best he’d ever had.

But no matter how smug he still felt, it was now tainted with trepidation, his brogue scuffing the patio as he waited for any sign of movement from within. He hadn’t planned on coming till later. In fact, he hadn’t even been sure he would go round at all. But after moaning to Aaron over breakfast about unreasonable Victoria had been, how she point blank refused to hear him out, Aaron had slammed his bowl of cornflakes down onto the counter and told him to go and see her because he was doing his head in.

A shadow passed in front of the glass and Robert took a step back, trying his best to strip off some of the arrogance which seemed to rile everyone so much, especially his sister. When the door opened, Vic was wrapped up in a fluffy, lilac dressing-gown and nursing a cup of tea. She glowered above the steam, jaw set hard and lips pursed, and he knew some serious grovelling was needed.

“If I say I’m sorry, what are the chances of you inviting me in?” he said, more as a way to test the waters than because he felt in any way that he should be the one apologising.

Vic shook her head, taking a half-step forwards so she was entirely blocking the doorway. “I’d say you’ve got a better chance of winning the lottery,” she replied sharply, and Robert immediately swerved away from the joke he’d been about to say for a softer, more tactful approach.

“Well, I think I’ll say it anyway, considering how badly I messed up yesterday. That’s if you’re not about to slam the door in my face?”

She said nothing, but she didn’t reach for the handle either, so he took it as a good sign. “I’m sorry for what I said. About Andy and Katie… about why I did what I did. And I’m sorry if I made it sound like I was blaming you for taking his side over mine. I didn’t mean it like that, I promise.”

Except he had meant it. He still did. When push came to shove, the Sugdens rallied around perfect little Andy and left troublemaker Robert out in the cold. That’s how it had always been, how it always would be, as this just proved.

Vic sighed, lowering her gaze back to her tea. “I just don’t see why you’re so against him. Or Katie, for that matter. I know you’ve got history but… I mean, all that’s in the past, isn’t it? It’s not like you’re still hung up on her.”

The very idea that he was still mooning after Katie was laughable. He hadn’t thought about her like that in years. Hadn’t thought about her at all if he was being honest.

“I’m not.”

“Then what is it, Rob? Are you really that spiteful that you can’t just let them be happy? What you said to Katie… I mean, you practically threatened to kill her, and then yesterday… It’s like you don’t even see what you did wrong!”

She was upset, not angry. Her eyes had gone wide and glassy, the sheen of tears which she blinked away furiously the final blow to knock him out cold.

“I won’t make any more excuses for that. Last year was… I don’t know, Vic. I suppose it just felt like I came back to the village, and everyone had moved on with their lives. Andy was back with Katie, you were with Adam, Diane had Doug… everyone had just settled so easily while I was gone and…”

“But even if that’s how you felt, why be so horrible to Katie? Why try to break them up?”

“That wasn’t what I was doing, Vic. But she was always on my case, always getting at me. You didn’t hear half the things she said to me, or maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to believe her over me.” The bitterness was back, a boomerang he was forever trying to rid himself of, only to have it rebound again just when he thought he was clear.

She had her hand on the handle now, a threat that if he kept going, she wouldn’t hesitate to close the door on him. Maybe he deserved it.

“Look,” he said, backtracking, “I’ve made a mess of everything. I’ll be the first to admit it. All I was saying yesterday was that it wasn’t as black and white as she made it seem. That recording… it sounded bad. It was bad. But she didn’t record the bits before… the bits where she said how ashamed Dad would be of me now, how Andy was more a Sugden than I’d ever be, how everyone was so much better off without me.”

He could feel the anger like white-hot needles against his skin, and deeper, the pain which her words had inflicted on him then and still echoed inside him now. And even further back, lodged in a dark corner of his mind, the fear that she had been right.

Vic shook her head, pity making her expression soften visibly. “If she said that, then that wasn’t right. She should never have told you that.”

If. Vic didn’t believe him. She was choosing Katie, someone not even related to her, over her own brother. Why did he expect any different?

“No, she shouldn’t. But I should never have threatened her. Or any of the other stuff I did. The wedding rings was just meant as a joke… I’d forgotten about them altogether until I was sat in the church.”

“And the caravan? Because you can’t call that a prank, Robert.”

No, he couldn’t. He’d wanted to burn that heap of metal to the ground, and watch Andy and Katie’s future burn with it. No, he hadn’t been joking then.

“It got out of hand,” was all he said, and Vic didn’t look the least bit impressed.

“You’ll have to try a Hell of a lot harder than that to win over Andy.”

“I’d settle just having your forgiveness,” he replied, because the idea of Andy, magnanimously offering him an olive branch, made him want to heave.

Vic forced down a smile, but Robert caught just the barest glimpse of it before it disappeared and his hope was momentarily restored. “I really am sorry. Believe it or not, I was trying to make amends yesterday.”

Now she was smiling, and he felt the corner of his own mouth twitch upwards.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but… I suppose you can come in. For a bit. But only for a bit, mind,” she warned, already stepping back to let him enter.

“Blimey, don’t do me any favours now, Vic.”

She whacked him on the arm with the back of her hand and he feigned a hurt expression before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

“Go through. I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she said, gesturing towards the living-room. He was practically beaming now, not able to hide the elation he felt at being back in her good graces. He hated when they argued, even when she was the one in the wrong, and if he had to twist the truth a little to get back on her good side, then so be it.

He sat on the arm of the sofa, deciding that it might be a bit presumptuous to make himself at home considering Vic’s emphasis on him staying ‘only for a bit’. He heard the shriek of the kettle through the paper-thin walls, the clink of a teaspoon against china, and then Vic humming quietly to herself as the fridge door opened. He still marvelled at his little sister, all grown up in her own house, a house she bought, and married. She was settled, having eased into normality with little difficulty, and Robert wondered, not for the first time, how she had gotten this far. Ten years was a long time - he hadn’t seen her leave high school, get her first boyfriend (or had the opportunity to threaten him), hadn’t watched her start her first job or fall in love… He hadn’t held her hand beside their father’s grave. She had spent almost as long without him as she had with him, and she’d managed. More than managed, she’d flourished. He couldn’t have been prouder of all she had achieved on her own, but it made his heart twinge to know he should have been there for her, to help and guide her, when she needed him.

Vic appeared with his cup of tea and he forced himself to concentrate on sipping at the hot liquid instead of how much he had failed her as a brother.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually come and apologise, you know,” she admitted, folding herself into the other couch and tucking her legs beneath her. He was momentarily reminded of Aaron, who did much the same thing when he curled up on the sofa, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Yeah, well, I was doing Aaron’s head in just moping round the flat.”

Her green eyes flicked up suddenly, as if she’d forgotten Robert was no longer living on his own. “How is he?” she asked, probably aiming for nonchalant but skirting closer to the realms of extreme nosiness. She really hadn’t changed at all.

“Fine,” Robert answer, and then remember the previous evening, Aaron slumped on the floor, distraught. “Actually, he’s been… struggling a bit, family stuff, you know?”

He knew he couldn’t tell her, he’d never do that to Aaron. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t hint at it, touch upon the edges of the issue without giving too much away. He felt so out of his depth sometimes, unable to give Aaron the reassurance he so craved, and right now he felt the need to get some reassurance of his own.

“Oh?” Vic said, placing her mug down on the table. “Anything serious?”

Robert shook his head. “He doesn’t speak to them, hasn’t done for years. But… well, he saw his Mum recently - not to speak to, just saw her from a distance - and… I don’t know, Vic, he’s had such a tough time. And I think it might be good for him to speak to her, but he won’t have it.”

She was looking at him intently, as if desperately trying to decipher his words. He felt suddenly exposed and took a large gulp of his tea, ignoring the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted the mug to his lips.

“You can’t force him into it, Robert, even if you think you know what’s best. He probably needs time to get his head round it, especially if he hasn’t seen her in so long.”

“You’re right. I just… I know what he’s been through, how far he’s come, and I don’t want him getting that upset again. He deserves a fresh start.”

“You sound like you really care about him.”

Robert had ‘I do’ on the tip of his tongue, the only confirmation either would need to prove Aaron was far more than just a friend. He could say it so easily, just two words and she would know. And maybe she’d say something back, maybe she wouldn’t, but it would only take that one, small admission to start the dominos falling.

“He’s a mate, isn’t he? I don’t like seeing him hurt.” He hated himself for it. Hated lying to her, hated keeping up the pretence. And more than that, he hated having to keep Aaron hidden, to relegate him to some casual acquaintance rather than what he really was. Not that Robert could even begin to define that, even if he wanted to. They were an unknown quantity, and all he could say for definite was that it was all-consuming.

Vic sighed, evidently disappointed, and nodded. “Just be there for him, then. A hand to hold, shoulder to cry on, whatever he needs. You don’t have to say anything, just show him you’re ready to listen whenever he needs to talk.”

“When did you get so wise?” he asked, and laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not wise, just the sanest one in the family,” she replied, and the accuracy of it made him smile.

“I should get back, really. See how he’s doing.” He wanted to stay with her longer, but the idea of her asking again about his relationship with Aaron, of lying to her a second time, made him desperate to leave.

Vic followed him back out onto the doorstep, arms wrapped tightly around herself against the bitter, winter air. “Text me… you know, if you need anymore sisterly advice,” she said, concern edging into her voice.

“Will do.”

“And… Robert?”

He was halfway down the path and he turned, reading the worry in her eyes and wondering what was coming next.

“Yeah?”

She let her gaze drop for a second before lifting back to his face. “Just… I’m here for you. Even with all this stuff with Andy… I’m still your sister, and if you need to talk then… Well, I’m here.”

He knew what she was saying, and he knew he couldn’t accept her offer, but he smiled all the same and just  hoped it looked genuine enough to be believed.

“You’ll be the first person I go to,” he said finally, and she seemed satisfied. He slipped out of the gate and headed back in the direction of home, the knot of guilt winding tighter with every step he took.

Chapter Text

Aaron had never been one to seek refuge in the heavy, stone walls of a church. He could only remember one other occasion when he’d found himself even within a few miles of one - it had been a particularly bleak night more than a year ago now, and he’d collapsed into one of the back pews, head bowed almost in prayer, and allowed the cold, hollow quiet to swallow him whole. That was when he was still getting picked up by strangers every night, when Ronnie was leeching him of money and strength, and when he carried a razor blade in his pocket, the only comfort he’d managed to find to stave off some of the fear.

This time, though, the church’s eery serenity held no sway for him, the help he needed derived from the structure itself. Pressed up against the sandstone wall, obscured in thick, grey shadows, Aaron was able to watch from a safe distance his uncle working at the garage without anyone even noticing he was there.

It had become a part of his daily routine, if that’s what it could be called. For the passed three days, while Robert was commuting to Leeds for work, Aaron would venture out into the village, concealed in so many layers of clothing that people would have struggled to tell which gender he was, far less if he resembled a long-lost family member. He’d kept to the back roads, never going straight through the centre of the village, and then settled himself next to the church and just watched.

Cain, Aaron had decided, was a complete dick most of the time. He seemed to take some kind of pleasure from making fun of the other mechanic, an average looking bloke with a receding hairline and a strong, Mancunian accent which raised a couple of octaves every time Cain laid into him. But there was the odd occasion when Aaron’s opinion softened towards his uncle - every time a dark-haired woman dropped by to give him a kiss or hand over his lunch, Cain’s permanent scowl would crack into a smile, his features losing some of their previous edge. Aaron noticed it again when Cain lifted up a small boy with the same dark, unruly hair as his own, strong arms wrapped around the child as he swung him up to the sky before placing him back onto the gravel driveway. A husband and a father, Aaron had thought, times really have changed.

It wasn’t as though he particularly missed his uncle. They’d never been close, Aaron always forced upon Cain by an impatient Chas when she had got tired of dealing with him. But it was more that he missed what could have been. It was a feeling he was getting used to.

The rest of his day would usually include a trip to Wishing Well or hiding out of sight near the sweet factory where Belle and Lisa would traipse up the hill, laughing along with the other men and women all heading to work. Belle had been a child the last time he saw her - hair pulled into pigtails and gaps between her teeth - and it was yet another reminder of how many years had passed, how different his whole family seemed in his absence.

He'd caught the odd glimpse of Sam making his way to Home Farm, or Marlon and a little girl Aaron presumed was his daughter strolling hand-in-hand down the street. The first day he ventured out properly, he’d almost walked straight into Zak who had been fixing a slightly bent iron fence in front of the churchyard.

“Sorry, lad,” he’d said, clapping Aaron on the back. “Didn’t see you there.”

He’d sounded the same, which was both a relief and a knife to the gut, the memories so potent that he’d had to sprint back home, throat tight as the panic overtook him. He was more careful now, though. He’d learned that the village was barely larger than a goldfish bowl and that the only way to avoid being seen was keeping in at the shadows, ducking his head whenever he heard footsteps approach.

That being said, he still risked being spotted so he could get as close to The Woolpack as possible. He’d slink behind the phonebox opposite the pub and just wait for any brief glances of his mother through one of the windows. He hadn’t seen her properly yet, just her occasional figure in motion as she passed by the glass, but that was enough for now. More than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Today was no different. He left his hide-out behind the church, eyes lingering on Cain hunched over the bonnet of a Vauxhall Corsa, and headed round the back of the village till he ended up leaning against the cafe, fists shoved into Robert’s coat pockets, staring at The Woolpack from under the thick, padded hood pulled low over his eyes.

The late January frost made the rooftops glisten and sparkle, splinters of light peaking through the dense, grey clouds to dapple the village in rays of diluted, afternoon sunshine. Aaron slunk back as he saw the pub door open and a bald man in a quilted jacket stepped outside, the faded echo of his mother’s laughter drifting from inside just before the door swung shut. He waited for the man to leave, eyeing him as he made his way up towards the vet’s surgery, before returning his attention to The Woolpack.

He thought about going in. He could just peak round into the bar, catch a glimpse of her, and then turn around and leave. But his feet were frozen to the road, unable to move even an inch closer.

A coward, through and through.

“Aaron? Is that you?”

His head snapped round at the sound of his own name, and saw Victoria almost jogging up the street, hands shoved into the pockets of her coats against the icy chill. She smiled at him, warm as always, but all he could do was glance up and down the village, making sure no one had heard her.

“I’m heading home,” he said, gesturing back towards Mill Cottage. He brushed passed her, head ducked low, and got about three feet before he heard her give a short, breathy laugh.

“No one ever teach you any manners?” she called, and he grimaced, wondering how someone so tiny could be so fucking loud.

“Just not a fan of the outdoors.”

She rolled her eyes and walked back down the road till their footsteps were in sync. “Rob mentioned you wanting to lie low for awhile.”

Aaron’s teeth ground together, wondering what else he had said. “Did he, now? Well, Robert needs to stop shooting his mouth off.”

“I’m his little sister. He tells me everything,” Victoria countered, and Aaron tried hard not to laugh, knowing how far from the truth that was. His and Robert’s living arrangements proved that.

“Maybe not everything,” he muttered, ducking his head a little when the local vicar passed them by, nodding by way of greeting. Victoria smiled back but Aaron just kept his eyes trained on the road.

“Well… you could always tell me the rest?” She was wiggling her eyebrows at him teasingly, and Aaron was struck again by the stark differences between her and Robert. She was so open and warm, sunshine in human form, whereas Robert had an intensity which rivaled any thunderstorm.

“Nice try,” he replied, but there was a ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. Victoria seemed to have that effect on him, like her own happiness permeated the air around him, seeping into his skin without him realising.

“Okay, so he might keep some stuff back,” she continued as they headed back down towards Mill Cottage. “But I know when he’s worried, and I can pretty much nag him till he spills the beans.”

“That how he got to talking about me, is it? You bullied him into it?” he joked, counting the steps till he would be back safe within his own four walls.

“Not bullied. Just… coaxed,” Victoria corrected, smirking.

“And you think you can do the same to me, that it?”

“Worth a shot.”

He grinned. “Well, you’re aim’s pretty shit, cause it’d take a lot more than you fluttering those lashes to get me to talk.”

“Funnily enough, I didn’t think my womanly wiles were going to have any effect on you,” she said sarcastically, and a short burst of laughter escaped his mouth. He doubted he’d ever stop being surprised by Victoria’s candidness.

“So, what was the plan, then? Pin me down, shine a spotlight in my face?”

“I’m not bloody MI5!” she exclaimed, jabbing him with her elbow. He feigned agony, though his arm was throbbing a little. She was seriously strong for someone so miniature.

“You’re starting to feel like them,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. They were rounding the corner at David’s, Mill Cottage in sight, and Aaron felt the rigidity in his muscles begin to ease a little. Almost home.

“I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot,” Vic sighed, now looking up at him with those same wide, green eyes that, on Robert, had him unable to refuse whatever was being asked of him.

“Forget about it. It’s not like I need to get all cosy with Robert’s family.”

She shrugged, chewing absent-mindedly on her bottom lip. “No. I suppose not. I mean, you’re having a hard enough time with your own to worry about the whole Sugden clan.”

He’d just been about to fish the set of keys from his coat pocket, but his whole body froze as Victoria’s words reverberated in his ears.

“Sorry?”

She wasn’t looking at him now. “He mentioned something about you having problems with your mum.”

His chest tightened, anger sparking in his veins. “He shouldn’t be saying anything,” he snarled, unable to control the panic now dragging him beneath the surface.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. Just needed some advice.”

“Oh, yeah? And what did you tell him, then?”

“That he should lay off and just let you deal with it in your own time.”

Aaron’s pulse was still throbbing inside his throat, but it had been reduced to a dull ache. Manageable, at least.

“Did he listen?” he asked hesitantly, the two of them now halting just before the road swept down towards Mill Cottage.

Vic smiled wearily. “Rarely does, but maybe this’ll be the exception.”

Maybe I’ll be the exception, Aaron thought, before shaking the idea from his head. An icy wind hurtled passed them, and Victoria wrapped her arms tightly around her waist against the chill.

“I should probably head back…” he mumbled, eyes glancing towards the flat.

“Not yet. I want to show you something first,” Vic replied, and grabbed his wrist before he had a chance to protest. She dragged him passed Mill Cottage and up the hill away from the village. Aaron wondered where the Hell she was leading him, and if he was about to come face-to-face with anyone from the village, but all that stretched ahead of them was countryside and a ramshackle, green hut.

“Wanna tell me why you brought me here?” he asked as they crossed over the grass to stand in front of the wooden structure.

“It’s the cricket pavilion,” Vic explained, as if that was the only reason needed. “Though God knows when we last had an actual village team! It’s mainly here for teenagers to doss about in. But it’s got a nice view of the village.”

They climbed up the rickety steps, the floorboards creaking beneath their boots. At the very least, the porch kept some of the bitter wind from hitting them.

“Right, well, I’m not all that keen on sight-seeing,” he said quietly, already regretting letting Victoria drag him up here.

“Lot of graffiti on it, though. Just kids being kids, I suppose,” she said, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Yeah, probably.”

“Usual crap. People’s names, mainly. They score them into the wood.” Her hand skimmed across the white-painted railing, eyes flicking up to meet Aaron’s questioning stare with an unreadable expression. It unnerved him.

“Right…”

“Like this one,” she said, tapping the wood with her bright pink nail. “Right here. See?”

He sighed, coming to stand next to her. She was pointing to a particularly paint chipped stretch of railing, and while the words scored into the wood were now faded with rain and age, he could still clearly make them out.

AARON WOZ ERE 2003

His stomach lurched and he felt a thin sheen of sweat prickle against his forehead. Victoria was staring at him intently now, a knowing look in her eye.

“And?” he said shakily, his mind already stumbling over any excuse he could give which would get him out of this situation as fast as possible.

“Suppose it’s just a coincidence, then? You being about the same age as the Aaron who used to live here?” she asked, staring at him expectantly. He had never seen anyone so fucking terrifying, not even Ronnie.

“Not sure who you’re talking about,” he stammered. “And there’s plenty guys who’re called Aaron. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Right you are.” She sounded almost normal, almost convincing. But there was too much lightness to her tone for the words to be believed.

“I’m being serious, Victoria,” he said, voice stronger. “It’s not me.”

“If you say so."

He couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing to his head. “I really should get going.”

“I was in the pub earlier today,” she said calmly just as he brushed passed her, and somehow his feet came to a halt just before the steps.

“I don’t know if you know, but my step-mum, Diane, owns half of the Woolpack.”

“Yeah, Robert mentioned it.”

Vic was leaning against the railing, and that look was back, the one that had his bones rattling with dread.  “Well, I was just chatting to her and suddenly I looked over and you won’t believe who I saw.”

“Elton John?” Even when he felt almost sick with fear, somehow the sarcasm still managed to bleed through.

She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. No. I saw you.”

That, admittedly, he had not been expecting.

“What?”

“I don’t know why it took me so long to work it out. I knew I recognised you, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And then I was in the backroom this morning and there you were, all smiles in your school uniform, just staring at me from the photo frame. Bit spooky, actually.”

He knew he should feel even more terrified than before. Victoria practically had him banged to rights. But all he could focus on was that his mum had a picture of him. She hadn’t forgotten him after all. Or not completely, anyway.

“You’ve got the wrong person.”

She scoffed, giving him an oh, please look. “Pretty sure I don’t. You’re Chas’s son, no doubt about it.”

And there was no doubt, he could tell that from the resolution in her voice. She knew, and there was little point in denying it now. Not when she had seen the photographic evidence for herself.

“You haven’t told her, have you?” he asked, just imagining what his mum would say when she found out.

Victoria shook her head and his heart flooded with relief. “I know you don’t want her to know. Not sure why, though. She’d be over the moon to see you.”

“Oh, you think?” he snapped. Chas was a lot of things, as Aaron well knew, but ‘Mother of the Year’ wasn’t one of them. The last thing she’d be is overjoyed to see him after all this time.

“Course!” Vic exclaimed, having obviously not sensed Aaron’s bitterness. Or perhaps she was just choosing to ignore it. “She’s your mum, and she misses you.”

“Well, she’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“It takes two, Aaron. You could always have gone to see her.”

He thought about it for a second. Thought about the times when he’d been an acne-infested teenager with a penchant for Nike Airs, scared shitless of the McFarlane’s. Thought of the nights he’d spent fucking some stranger in the stained backseat of a stale-smelling car. Thought of those lonely, twilight hours where his only salvation had been a cold blade against his skin.

No, he thought firmly, I could never have relied on her for help.

“Why don’t you just keep your nose out?” he hissed, the pain getting the better of him. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“No, I don’t,” she retorted harshly, before her shoulders sagged, the fury dying on her tongue. “But I do know you can’t sneeze in this village without someone offering a tissue. She’s going to find out where you are eventually, and God knows what she’ll do if she hears it from someone else.”

He knew it was true. He’d known it for days, but he’d just been too petrified to admit it to himself.

“I… I can’t go and see her,” he said, tears stinging his eyes. He turned his face away, convincing himself that it was just harsh bite of the wind making his vision blur.

“She’s not a monster, you know. Chances are she’ll be so happy you’re here that she won’t even care about anything else.”

Aaron stopped mid-sniff to churn over Victoria’s words, and suddenly the agony he felt was replaced with cold, hard rage.

“What, you think that’s why I’ve not visited before now? Because I’m worried she’ll be angry?” he spat, twisting round to face her. Her eyes widened in shock, seemingly unsure of what she’d done wrong.

“Well… aren’t you?”

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “No, I’m not. She left me when I was a kid, didn’t bother to make sure I was all right, didn’t care enough to check up on me- She didn’t give a damn, so I don’t see why I should.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realise.”

He shook his head, the guilt at overreacting winning out against his anger. Vic didn’t deserve to be shouted at. After all, it wasn’t her he hated. “Doubt she shouted it from the rooftops.”

“She might have changed, though,” she said softly, tentatively. “I mean, you’re not a kid anymore.”

“No. No, I’m not,” he whispered, and a series of images flashed in front of him, each more vivid than the last. He pushed them down, locking them back up again. The road back to his childhood was completely sealed off, a ‘NO ENTRANCE’ sign barring anyone, including himself, from getting too close to that period of his life.

“Look, I’m not saying you have to go and see her. But eventually someone’s going to work it out. I don’t even know you and I spotted the similarities in a couple of days. How long is it going to be before someone else realises? Especially if you’re just wandering round the village.”

She had a point. He didn’t want to believe it, hated the idea of her being right, but she was. And they both knew it.

“I can’t just walk into the pub and pretend like nothing’s happened.”

“I could take you through the back,” Vic offered, eyes bright again with something resembling hope. “I’ll cover the bar with Diane to give you some time alone with Chas.”

It was all sounding a lot like a plan, and Aaron held a hand up to stop her from going any further. “Hang on. I've not agreed to anything, yet.”

“Yet?”

He felt himself waver, her sure smile infiltrating his own faltering heart. “She’s not gonna want to see me.”

“She will. Trust me.”

“I don’t even know what I’d say to her.”

She smiled, taking his cold in hers and squeezing gently. The physical contact shocked him, but he tried hard not to flinch too much. “Well, you could always start with a ‘hello’. Take it from there.”

“Vic…”

“Don’t think about it,” she cut him off. “Come on. We can head back up the pub, and then if you really don’t want to go inside, you can just sprint for home. Not like I’d be able to stop you, is it? Pretty sure you can outrun me, easy.”

He let himself exhale, having been holding his breath for what felt like hours, before nodding reluctantly. “All right.”

There was no way he’d go through with it. He couldn’t. But arguing with Victoria was about as easy as gripping water, and there was a small part of him which was tempted to get closer to The Woolpack, to his mum, than he had ever managed before.

They walked in silence all the way along the lane, passed Mill Cottage where Vic suddenly looped her arm with Aaron’s as if to stop him running for the door. She picked up the pace as they neared the pub, yanking him towards the stone building with a determination which bordered on desperation. He wasn’t sure why it meant anything to her, maybe she just didn’t want him sponging off of Robert anymore, but whatever her reasons, Aaron couldn’t seem to work up the courage to stop her.

His heart felt like stone against his ribcage, cracking against his bones as it thumped a jagged rhythm. Victoria tugged him round the side of the building and suddenly the backdoor was open and he could feel the warmth radiating across his skin as she stepped over the threshold and pulled him after her.

“Vic-”

“Stay here. Just… stay here,” she said, guiding him into the sitting-room with its corner kitchen and giving his shoulder a pat.

He watched her disappear through another door, the noises from the pub drifting through the gap, and Aaron couldn’t have run even if he’d wanted to. He felt sick, fingers trembling as he just stood and waited for the inevitable to happen. His eyes scanned the room, memorising everything from the pale, cream sofas to the jacquard wallpaper, before finally resting on the series of pictures dotted along the shelves.

Strangely, the first one his eyes caught on was a picture of a young, blonde boy smiling out at him, sat atop his father’s shoulders. Robert, he thought immediately, taking a half-step forwards, hand stretching out to touch the glass. But then his gaze flicked down towards another frame, silver shining under the ceiling lights, and a much younger version of himself stared straight towards the camera, beaming.

He looked so young, hair unruly, white polo shirt untucked from the waistband of his black school trousers. His heart stuttered and he forced himself to look away, focusing instead on the other Sugden and Dingle family photos, none of which included him. There was one of his mum and another woman who he assumed was Diane, standing behind the bar, both grinning with their arms around each other. They looked happy, grinning from ear to ear, and Aaron’s gaze lingered on his mother’s face, his gut aching with a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Home-sickness.

He was just about to go closer, to look at the other photographs in more detail when he suddenly heard the shuffle of footsteps outside the door and suddenly there was no time, no few, precious seconds to prepare himself before his mother was standing in the doorway, jaw dropping in stunned silence as she took in the man before her.

“Aaron?” she breathed, dark brown eyes pooling shimmering with tears.

And all he could do was nod, teeth dragging in his bottom lip as he slid his hands up into the sleeves of Robert’s coat, chest heaving from lack of oxygen.

“Hello.”

Chapter Text

The track was slick with ice and mud as Robert made his way up towards Wiley’s Farm, boots wading through the thick sludge and making it difficult for him to balance. The sky was a sheet of steel-grey metal, so low over the brittle, frosted hills that there was an instant feeling of claustrophobia which contradicted the vast expanse of countryside in front of him.

But that penned-in feeling had far more to do with the figure Robert could just make out in the distance, bent over a misshapen fence, the steady echoing beat of a hammer against wood cracking the frozen silence. Andy hadn’t seen him yet, or if he had, he was deliberately ignoring him. Not that Robert would have been in anyway surprised by that.

He’d told Aaron that morning that he was heading into the office for a meeting with a client, but instead he had emailed the other partners to say a family emergency had come up. It wasn’t entirely a lie - his and Andy’s feud was perhaps the biggest family emergency the Sugdens had ever known. He had thought of telling Aaron about his intentions, possibly talking it through even, but his tongue had swollen the minute he’d tried to broach the subject. He wasn’t even entirely sure what it was that stopped him - maybe he didn’t like the idea of dragging Aaron into his family’s mess, or perhaps it was more the risk that Aaron would side with his brother over him. Whatever the reason, though, he’d kept silent, instead choosing to nestle underneath the covers with Aaron’s head tucked beneath his chin, arm wrapped tightly around his bare shoulders.

Robert wanted to be back there, wrapped in the warmth of Aaron’s body, rather than braving the arctic winds and heavy sleet just to have yet another fraught and bitter conversation with his brother. But here he was anyway, and there was no use turning back now. Not when he’d made it this far.

Andy glanced up as he heard Robert’s footsteps crunch across the frozen ground and leaned back, hands placed against his lower back as he stretched.

“Wondered when you’d eventually show up,” he said coldly, giving Robert the once over with a steely gaze which had him shrinking into himself a little.

“Like the proverbial bad penny, that’s me,” he replied, keeping his voice as light as possible, knowing that if they got bogged down in malice so early on, there would be no hope of a reconciliation. Not that Robert was entirely sure he wanted one.

“Yeah, well, you said it,” Andy muttered, thick fingers curling around the wooden base of the hammer which had been propped against the wire fence. He took another nail from the box on the ground and began smacking it into the fresh, wooden post, the reverberations sending tremors across the frozen dirt.

Robert sniffed, the cold making his nose stream, and pushed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. “Not gonna lay out the red carpet, then? Suppose I’ll have to make do with a field full of manure as a welcome home.” The joke was well meant, but Andy gave him a stern look, and Robert was reminded, not for the first time, that his brother was seriously lacking in a sense of humour.

He sighed, breath unfurling like smoke from his chapped lips, and leaned his elbow against the fence, watching as Andy hooked some of the wire mesh around the nail he’d just embedded deep within the wood. He could remember watching his father do the same thing, back when he was young and eager to please, listening intently as Jack had explained why it was so important to keep the field secure. Robert rarely lingered too long on the similarities between his dad and Andy, but now they seemed far too obvious to ignore.

“Can I help you?” Andy asked, having managed to hammer in three nails before snapping as he realised Robert wasn’t going anywhere.

“Just waiting for you to offer me a brew,” Robert answered with a wry smile, the urge to push his brother’s buttons too tempting to resist. It was just so easy to wind him up.

“Robert, I don’t know what Vic’s said, but-”

“Don’t worry, she’s still firmly on your side,” Robert cut him off, rolling his eyes.

Andy kept his grip on the hammer and stood up, muddy stains marking his overalls where he had been kneeling on the ground. “You say that like she shouldn’t be.”

“Well, she is my sister.”

“And mine an’ all,” Andy countered sharply, and they shared a look, the meaning clear despite going unsaid. Robert stood his ground, feet planted solidly, mirroring Andy’s stance.

“If that’s all you came to say… I’m busy.”

Robert glanced down at the miles of fencing still waiting to be uncoiled and nailed along the perimeter of the field, and sniggered. “So I see. Making a pretty shit job of it as it goes.”

Andy followed Robert’s gaze before snapping back upwards, scowling so hard he was in danger of bursting a blood vessel. “What, and you’re an expert on fixing fences, are you? What with all the manual labour you’ve done?”

“Don’t need to be an expert when you’ve got brains like mine,” he quipped, then turned his attention to the bent nail half-sticking out of the post. “Plus, I’m pretty sure your Sarah could hammer a nail in straighter than that.”

“Seriously, Robert, you can clear off. I don’t need to be taking advice from you on anything, least of all farming,” Andy bit back, and the weight of all that sat between them suddenly doubled in pressure. Robert imagined that it was his father’s judgement bearing down on him from above, or his disappointment, whichever was the more powerful at that present moment.

“You’re just scared of the competition. Nothing new there, though,” he added quietly, and a smile quirked his mouth upwards at the corners. That was until Andy shot him a glare so sharp that Robert had no option but to let it fall immediately.

“Five minutes,” Andy hissed, his hand trembling slightly as he tightened his grip on the hammer. Robert took a step back. “You’ve been here all of five minutes, and already you’re banging on about that again!”

Robert glanced around, wondering which part of this conversation had seemingly passed him by. “What? I was joking!”

“No, you were doing what you always do, making this into some kind of contest. Only it’s not, because I’ve got everything I want already.” Andy flung his arm out, evidently gesturing towards the ramshackle barns and house that looked far closer to demolition than they did to being an actual, livable home.

“Oh yeah, a veritable kingdom, this is,” Robert said, unable to help the grin which spread wide across his face. “Hardly the stuff of dreams, mate.”

“Maybe not to you. But I’m happy. I’ve got my own farm, just like dad would have wanted, and I’ve got the kids… and I’ve got Katie.”

It wasn’t the mention of his father that made Robert flinch, strangely, but rather the sudden reminder of Katie which had every muscle in his body visibly tensing. “I was wondering when you’d bring your loving wife into this.”

“Don’t start, Rob. Seriously,” Andy warned, turning his attention back to the fence and yanking at the tightly wound wire mesh till a metre or so was rolled out along the deeply scored earth.

Robert tried not to scoff, but it was hard when Andy seemed to have such a massive chip on his shoulder for someone who claimed to have ‘everything he wanted’. “You brought her up, not me,” he said by way of a reminder, and Andy shook his head, meeting Robert’s expectant stare with a weary expression.

“Yeah, and I know when you’re spoiling for a fight. But I won’t give you one. Not this time.”

“Really?” Robert asked, skin prickling with annoyance. He always had to play the hero, always waving the white flag… right before he stabbed you in the back. “I thought you of all people would be more than happy to get into a scrap with me. You’ve always been pretty good with your fists, haven’t you?”

It was a low shot, and he knew it wasn’t going to win him any favours, but he couldn’t help himself. Andy needed to remember that Robert wasn’t the only one with a past he would sooner forget, and Robert was more than happy to be the one to give him the memo.

But judging by the way he dropped the hammer with a hard smack on the ground, Andy obviously wasn’t leaning towards gratitude. “That’s it. I want you to leave. Now.”

Robert laughed, feeling his control on the situation loosening as he itched to give as good as he was getting. “What? Get off my land, that it? You really are starting to sound like dad.”

“Well, if I do, then I’m glad. If I end up being half the man he was, I’ll be doing all right.”

It was always the same, Robert couldn’t understand why he was even surprised. The saint that was Jack Sugden lived on even after death, and there was no one more consistently faithful to his memory than Andy.

“Come off it!” Robert exclaimed, blunt nails digging into his numb palms. “He’s dead, you don’t have to keep being the doting, loyal son!”

“Just because you couldn’t stand him, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t remember him as a good man,” Andy countered, and the worst of it was, he genuinely looked like he meant it.

“Seriously? Christ, Andy, I knew you were a bit delusional, but this is a joke!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leave it, the voice in Robert’s head warned, but he was well passed reason now. He wanted to inflict some damage. “Well, you’ve never been good at being honest with yourself, have you? Prefer living in denial, much happier that way. Ignorance is bliss and all that.”

“Not following.”

That’s a surprise, coming from a knuckle-brain like you, Robert thought with a smug smile. “Well, you weren’t all that keen to see what was going on right under your nose. Me and Katie were practically having it off right in front of you, but you still wouldn’t let yourself see it.”

He was pressing his finger into the wound, pushing hard until he could see the hurt imprinted on Andy’s face. And it felt good, better than any half-hearted, reluctant apology would have. Forgiveness wasn’t something he’d ever wanted, not from his brother. But revenge? Now, that was something Robert could get behind, heart and soul.

“Maybe you just couldn’t face it,” he continued, too far gone to even make sense of what he was saying, or plan ahead for what he was going to come out with next. “Pretty hard thing to admit, the missus preferring your brother over you. Maybe I’d bury my head in the sand as well.”

Andy’s jaw spasmed with anger, and Robert braced himself for the punch that was coming, the first blow that would see them both at each other’s throats, going over that well-worn, familiar territory.

“Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? I mean, that’s exactly what happened with dad.”

Robert felt his legs give a little, buckling under the shock of what Andy had just said. He couldn’t even make a snide response, or brush it off, because his whole body had been paralysed. He just blinked, once, twice, three times, the cogs in his brain grinding to a halt, shutting down before the pain could sink any deeper.

Andy turned away, a twinge of guilt making his lip twitch, and Robert wanted to beat the pity out of him till his fists were bloody. But he was still struggling to breathe normally, far less have the focus or drive to take a swing at him.

“Shouldn’t have said that,” Robert heard him mumble, and it was enough to have him fighting for control over his voice.

“Why? It’s true, isn’t it? Not like there’s any use pretending he loved me, or even liked me. Let’s face it, dad only ever had two children, and that sure as Hell didn’t include me.”

Andy gave him another sympathetic side-glance before shaking his head. “He did love you.”

“Fuck off, Andy,” Robert spat, because the very last thing he needed was even more bullshit about his father. He’d had more than enough already to last him a lifetime. “You know as well as I do that when push came to shove, I was the one he could live without, the one he didn’t feel the need to protect. Max proved that.”

The memories of that day were faded around the edges, but the moment his dad turned his back on him was still crystal clear. You’re on your own, son. It had stuck with him all these years, long after he found out his dad had died. It still made his bottom lip waver, knowing that Andy had been shielded once again whilst he had been abandoned, left to fend for himself. 

“He only sent you away to keep you safe.”

The nausea had his gut churning and Robert fought it back, but his mind clung on to the memory of that day all the same, refusing to let go. Robert… I don’t hate you. That was the last thing his dad had said to him, and even if it hadn’t been a lie, even if he’d meant it, that didn’t change the fact that Robert had still been made to leave his family.

“What, and he couldn’t have done that with me still at home? He had to banish me from the fucking village? That keeping me safe, was it?” he spat, now remembering the hollow feeling which had expanded in his chest after the car door had slammed shut, the tears coming unbidden as he forced the gearstick into reverse, spinning the car round on the narrow lane, and sped off towards a future that was entirely unknown to him.

“You would have gone to prison, Rob!”

“Then how come he didn’t send you packing as well?” he countered, his voice breaking up in his throat. “And once the fuss had died down, why didn’t he send for me, ask me to come back? I’ll tell you why, shall I? Because that would have ruined his perfect, little family.”

He felt shackled to that day, even now. The last thing he’d seen right before he’d rounded the bend was Jack and Andy stood side by side in the rearview mirror. Father and son, Robert had thought at the time, and the sheer injustice of it all still tugged at him now. That the boy who had been his friend, the boy Robert had welcomed into his family, had gone onto replace him in his father’s affections, to the point where it almost seemed like Robert was the one who had been adopted, and Andy was the one tied to the Sugdens by blood.  

“That’s not how it was,” Andy protested meekly, and Robert’s lip curled in disgust, no longer able to listen to the lies which tripped from his brother’s tongue with a practiced ease.

“Yeah, well, you and me have a habit of remembering the past a bit differently, don’t we?” he hissed, chest heaving as the pain blinded him. “Hope you’re not planning on setting light to this place when the going gets tough. It’d serve you right though, if Katie ended up being the one inside this time around.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a victory, but it did. Robert was flying high on the triumph of a well-delivered blow which went straight through the chinks in Andy’s armour, leaving him utterly defenseless. Now you know how it feels, big brother.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Andy said, voice breathy as he continued to reel from Robert’s words. He felt no remorse.

“I’m only being honest,” he said evenly, a calm now washing over him. Above their heads, the sky had hardened like granite, impenetrable and brooding.

“Just go, Robert. I don’t even know why you bothered coming back.”

He smiled, sure of his answer. “Vic asked me.”

“Well, more fool her,” Andy bit back immediately, and with far more venom than Robert had been expecting. “You’re only going to end up disappointing her in the end, you know that? She always thinks the best of you, and you always let her down, every time.”

“I won’t.” Even as he said the words, his confidence faltered, knowing he had lied to her more than once already, and would likely do so again when the need arose.

“And you call me delusional? Grow up, Rob. You’re not fooling anyone,” Andy growled, before returning his attention to the fence, picking up the hammer as if to show what would happen if Robert pursued it any further. But he had said his piece, he didn’t need to drag it out more than they already had. And he’d won, more or less. He just wished he felt like it.

There was no parting remark he could think to make, at least nothing that would have left a lasting enough impression, so he turned around and headed back in the direction of the village, deciding that a stiff drink was in order to warm his chattering body and possibly dull the regret now worming its way into his thoughts. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to work over the conversation again, replaying the parts which had stung him the most, or the jibes he’d managed to get in himself, knowing how keenly they would be felt. It could have gone so differently, but neither of them had wanted that, because neither of them had any intention of building bridges. They never had done. It was Vic and Diane who had wanted them to be friends, and before that it had been their dad knocking their heads together, exasperated with the pair of them though he only ever took his anger out on Robert.

The bitterness made his teeth ache and he ground them down on each other till his jaw began to throb with pain. Sleet was starting to carry its way over on the wind, and it made his eyes smart, the icy, wet flakes smacking him hard in the face as he pressed on. He thought about heading for home, but that would have meant explaining to Aaron why he was back so early, and not in his regular work suit. He didn’t want questions, didn’t want to talk at all. He just needed to seek out the oblivion he knew he could find in a glass or two of whisky.

The Woolpack looked warm and welcoming from where he was standing at the other end of the street, and with his hair now plastered to his head, Robert rushed towards it with an almost desperate determination. The blast of heat which hit him as he pushed on the door took the breath from him, and he shook the excess snow from his jacket and headed for the bar where Diane had just glanced up from the till.

“You took your time! Victoria said you’ve been back for days,” she exclaimed, and Robert suddenly realised that he hadn’t come to see her yet. He’d been so wrapped in his fight with Andy that he hadn’t even stopped to consider the reception he’d got from his step-mother.

“There’s been a lot going on,” he answered feebly, running his scarlet fingers through his soaking wet hair. “Sorry.”

Diane gave him a disparaging look. “Well, I just hope you haven’t come back to cause trouble. Not when Andy and Katie have been managing to make a go of things.”

It was the last thing he wanted to talk about, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. “Funnily enough, I don’t spend my every waking minute thinking about them,” he hissed.

She stared at him, wide-eyed, before shifting into that typical, matriarchal stance which was both intimidating and comical in the same breath. “I won’t be tolerating any of your nonsense, young man,” she said, pointing a finger at his face which had him turning away. He’d come in here to get away from talking about his brother, not to have it rammed down his throat.

“I don’t have to put up with this shit,” he snarled, aiming a withering stare in Diane’s direction. She didn’t even flinch, and he was reminded again that she was far stronger than she first appeared, capable enough to withstand a few harsh words from him.

“And I won’t be listening to language like that in my pub. If you want a drink in here, you’ll have to calm down first.”

“Turfing me out, then? Bet you wouldn’t do that to Andy,” he said, but he wasn’t as sure of himself as he had been a moment ago and it left him feeling weak, exposed.

Diane placed both hands on the bar, staring him down. “That’s because he would never have spoken to me like you just have,” she replied steadily, and now Robert felt the anger stirring inside him again. Andy had been wrong, it was always a contest between them, and no one was ever going to pick Robert as the winner.

“Well, then, I suppose we know where we stand. You and Andy and Vic all playing happy families, and me out in the cold. Business as usual, eh?”

He was zipping up his jacket, deciding that he could pick up a whole bottle of whisky from David’s before going back home. Drown his sorrows and forget today ever happened.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Robert. But you’ll have to put a bit more effort in if you want us to welcome you back with open arms.”

She was looking at him the same way Andy had, with that sanctimonious, patronising expression that left him wanting to smash his fist into the wall.

“I’ve given up enough to keep you lot happy. From now on, I’m looking after number one,” he said, and Diane sighed, shaking her head sadly. Robert tugged at the collar of his jacket, bracing himself to head back out into the wintry weather.

“Don’t cut your nose off, Robert. You'll only be hurting yourself,” he heard her call after him as he stepped outside, the snow lancing his skin immediately as the door swung shut behind him.

Back out into the cold, just like always, he thought, ducking his head as he headed towards home.

Chapter Text

“Is that really you?”

He felt utterly exposed, as if every light in the room had been turned on him. Her voice was thick with tears, and he could see her chest rising and falling sharply as she struggled to control her breathing. He wasn’t sure when he last inhaled himself, and now he pulled in a lungful of air, too fast and too harsh, till his head was swimming.

He didn’t know what to do. Seeing her, face-to-face, had never been a scenario he’d planned for, and definitely not like this. He’d imagined shouting, or a slap to the face, or a slam of the door as she walked out on him. Again. But this… this just hadn’t been possible.

She had a hand against her mouth, and the tears had turned her eyes into dark, black pools. He bit his lip, hands fumbling with the sleeves of his coat, and everything he wanted to say dried to ashes on his tongue. His whole body was paralysed with fear, unable to do much more than stand rooted, panic surging through him as he waited for the world to swallow him whole.

“Oh God, Aaron-” she breathed, and then she was moving, the floor creaking beneath her feet as she stepped forward. And inside he flinched, inside he heaved a breath, ready for battle, while on the outside he remained completely still.

When her arms wound their way around his shoulders, every thought in his head stuttered then disappeared.

He knew he should push her off. It wasn’t fair of her to do this to him, to be this selfish. It wasn’t fair to pin him against her, to brush his hair with her hand, to bite her lip against great, choking sobs. And it definitely wasn’t fair how desperately he wanted this, or how much he had missed her.

“My boy,” she whispered, sharp nails digging into his back as she pulled him closer. “My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

He was brittle in her arms, sharp and unyielding, but at his core he was crumbling. Every refusal died inside him, every instinct which screamed at him to run was silenced. Because she was warm against him and soft and familiar. She didn’t feel like home, not anymore, but she was his past brought to life, and it was hard to ignore her even if he would have been better off.

So he fell into her embrace despite himself, curling inwards to hide his face against her shoulder, and felt her tremble beneath his hands. He didn’t recognise her smell, couldn’t place the perfume she now wore, and there was no familiar jangle of her hoop earrings which had once been his only lullaby. But there was still something about her presence, how solid she felt, how tight her grip was on his arms, which reminded him of being a boy again. So small, so frightened, and for a few fleeting moments, her touch had brought him comfort.

“Where have you been?” she asked, voice choked off by the threat of further tears as she pulled back a little to brush a hand against his cheek. He didn’t turn his face away, but he didn’t lean in closer either. He was incapable of doing much more than staring.

“Oh God, I can’t believe you’re here! I feel like I should pinch myself or something,” she continued, grinning so wide that he almost wanted to do the same. Almost.

“Let’s sit down. Yeah, let’s sit. I’ll make us a brew… Do you… I mean, is tea all right?” She sounded on the verge of hysterics, voice strangled as she kept smiling, but there was a nervousness to her expression now which put him on edge, made him want to run and never look back.

“Yeah. Tea’s fine,” he replied instead, moving to sit on the slightly crumpled sofa, fingers digging into the cream fabric till his nails almost ripped through.

“Milk?”

“Milk?” he asked, mind wandering to years before, when she had been stood in a different kitchen, screaming across the room to his younger self. “Oh… yeah. Thanks. And two sugars.”

“Sweet tooth,” she remarked with a fond smile. “I remember that well enough."

I’m surprised, he thought, but said nothing.

“So,” she said hesitantly, handing over the burning mug to him, “you well? You look well. Bit skinny, mind, could do with feeding you up. Growing lad…”

“I’m all right,” he cut her off, deciding there was no way he was going to listen to wherever she’d been heading with that. It was bad enough seeing her again, without the forced small talk to go along with it.

“Good. That’s good.”

She looked deflated, like she’d somehow been hoping for a grand reunion, all tears and love and forgiveness. How could she know him so little? Of course, they both knew the answer to that.

“And that beard’ll take a bit of getting used to! Doubt I’d have recognised you-” She halted, the rest of the sentence dying on her tongue as they regarded each other. Course you don’t recognise me, he thought bitterly, we’ve spent longer apart than we have together.

“Guess we’ve both probably changed,” Aaron said, and it was far too magnanimous, far too forgiving. He hated how guilty he felt, how easy it was to slip back into old habits - him as the little boy always desperate to please, her constantly hurting him and then brushing it off.

“Yeah. Suppose we have.” She kept looking at him, studying him, picking apart every movement he made, every shift of his expression, and he tried hard not to feel like she was about to come at him with a scalpel, ready to peel back every hardened layer to reach inside him.

“Didn’t think you’d be running this place,” he forced out, wanting to steer them onto safer territory. She didn’t need to know anything about him, and he certainly wasn’t going to offer up any information of his own.

She laughed, but it was shaky and unconvincing. “Didn’t think I’d manage it, either! But I couldn’t ask for a better partner in Diane.”

Aaron nodded, reminded of Robert. “You with anyone, then?”

“A fella?” she asked, wide-eyed, before shaking her head vehemently. “No, sworn off them for life.”

“Might not be a bad idea,” he muttered, but refused to let his thoughts shift any further backwards. He pinched the soft skin at his wrist, forcing himself to stay in the present.

“With my track record? Yeah, it definitely is. And you? Not a fella, I mean… but, is there anyone?”

His head shot up. He hadn’t had time to think about this part, to plan how he was going to say any of it. Back when he was dossing in shop doorways or curled up in the boxing club, Aaron had wondered what his mum would have said about it all. Whether she would have disappointed, or hurt… or angry. He’d always been relieved at those times, to know she’d never find out, because he’d never see her again.

“Why wouldn’t it be a bloke?” he asked, sounding defensive despite the fear chiselling away at his barriers.

Her brows furrowed, deep ridges appearing on her forehead. “What do you mean?”

He blew out hard through his nostrils, wishing to God that she could, just once, make his life a fraction easier. He should have known that would never happen.

“If I’d met someone… why wouldn’t it be a bloke?”

He watched her expression change, watched every minute shift as she went from confused to stunned, jaw slack as she stammered to give him any kind of response.

“Oh. No, well… I didn’t mean… So… Are you-”

“Gay?” he bit back, telling himself to keep calm even though he could barely hear anything over his own heartbeat. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

He waited. Waited for her to laugh, or shout abuse, or run for the door. But she did nothing, just stood gawping at him like he was part of some freak show. Somehow, it was so much worse than the alternatives.

“Right!” she exclaimed, snapping back to reality with a few rapid blinks. “Well, then… can’t say I saw that coming.”

It made his skin prickle, made the hairs on his arms rise up as though he’d just been electrocuted. Except it was anger coursing through his veins now, raw fury pulsating behind his eyes as he ground his teeth together.

“Wouldn’t have thought you’d see much coming about my life, what with you not knowing anything about it,” he snarled, losing all sense of control as the anger took hold. He hated her, hated how small he felt when her eyes were on him. Why wasn’t he ever enough for her?

“Aaron, I wasn’t…”

“It’s been ten years,” he stated, each word punctuated with a strangled pause as he glared at her. She withered under his gaze, grimacing as she shrunk back. Good, he thought, at least now you know how it feels.

“I know that,” she whispered, now unable to look him in the eye. It was a relief, really. He couldn’t stand her judging him, scrutinising him.

“Right,” he continued, voice sharp as barbed wire, “so let’s not pretend like you know me. It’s not like we’ve been sending postcards or anything.”

She flicked her eyes up to meet his for a moment, pleading with him to relent. He just stared harder.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Good. Cause it’s none of your business,” he finished, now hunched forwards so that he was balanced on the very edge of the seat. Ready to run. Always ready to run.

She sighed, placing her mug down to rub at her eyes, before gesturing towards him. “You finished with your tea?”

He hadn’t drank any of it but he nodded, the mug feeling tepid against his hand, and gave it back to her.

“I should probably get going,” he said, already getting up to leave. She raised a hand to stop him, dark eyes wide again as she hurried forwards.

“You don’t have to.”

“Think I do.”

“Aaron… I’m sorry.” She almost sounded like she meant it, like she understood the years of misery which had been inflicted on him because of her. Because she left him.

“What for?” he asked, hands disappearing again inside his sleeves.

She opened her mouth, an explanation poised on her tongue, but then her gaze became skittish, unsure, bouncing off the walls as if searching for the right answer.

“You don’t even know, do you?” he hissed, realising that the apology was as empty as all the others she’d given him as a kid. She had no fucking clue.

“I’m trying-”

“Trying?”  he yelled, the vein in his neck throbbing. “When have you ever tried with me? You fucked off when I was eight, didn’t see you for dust, and when you did bother to show your face, you made it pretty bloody clear I wasn’t welcome.”

“No…”

“Yes,” he said adamantly. “You haven’t heard from me in ten years and… what? You didn’t once think to check in on me, make sure I wasn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere?”

“That’s not fair,” she snapped, and suddenly he was a child again, being scolded by his mother, resentment in her voice, as she jabbed a finger in front of his face. “I did try to find you, looked all over, but you’d just vanished. Even your dad didn’t know where you’d gone.”

He flinched, couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, well, I needed a fresh start,” he mumbled, chin tucked into his neck as he tried to conceal the truth which he was sure was plain to see on his face.

“I know you didn’t have the best of times growing up, but we can put it right now. You and me, it’s not too late. Is it?” she pushed, sounding hopeful, eager. He looked at her, tried to find the seam where the old her and the new her were joined together, work out where one ended and the other began.

“Isn’t it?” he whispered, throat clogged with tears. He had to keep it together, had to keep strong. He couldn’t cry in front of her.

“No,” she said, giving him the most optimistic of smiles. “Not if we don’t want it to be. We used to be thick as thieves, remember? You, me, your dad-”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” he snapped, a jolt of panic making him react without thought. “You and him were at each other’s throats, screaming and slamming doors. And then one day you just left… you left me.”

He swallowed, forcing himself to breathe, even as the pain threatened to consume him. He had been so young, so lost in all that fear and confusion, wondering what he’d done wrong to make her leave him. How could she have left him?

“I’m sorry.”

There it was again, the apology he had never asked for and the one he definitely didn’t want to hear. It was all too late. Too bloody late.

“I’m over it,” he said, sniffing hard to stop the tears from spilling.

“Well, what do you want, then?” she asked, exasperated as she flung her arms out. “You want me to beg, Aaron? Get down on my knees, that it?”

He scoffed, even the idea of it ridiculous to his own ears. “Wouldn’t change anything, even if you did.”

“So why come here, then? Or was it just to rub it in my face, that I’m a crap mother and I always have been?”

Shit. He had wanted to avoid Robert altogether, somehow keep him out of the discussion entirely, but now he’d walked right into the one question which he wouldn’t be able to lie about.

“I’m staying with a friend,” he replied vaguely, hoping against all hope that she would drop it there.

“Victoria?”

He sighed. “No. No, not Vic. Her brother.”

“Andy?”

“Robert,” he corrected, and wondered how much shit he had just landed himself in with the man in question.

“Robert?” Chas yelled, eyes now bulging a little from her sockets, eyebrows raised high. Aaron blinked, wondering what the Hell was the problem now, and chewed on his bottom lip.

“Yeah. We’re… we’re good mates.”

“Right. Okay, that’s… How did you meet him, then? I mean, have you known him a while?”

He shrugged, still not entirely sure what the issue was. “Not that long.”

“Love, I know I’m hardly in a position to be telling you what to do, but… Robert’s not… Robert’s not the sort of person you should have as a friend.” Her voice was soft again, coaxing, as if trying to lure him onto her side. He bristled instinctively, shoulder rolling forwards to protect him from whatever was coming his way.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked defensively.

She gave him an almost sympathetic look. “He’s a nasty piece of work. His whole family have turned their backs on him, and with good reason as far as  I can see.”

Here we go, he thought wearily, wishing again that he had kept Robert out of it.

“Maybe he’s changed,” he tried, but she shot him another exasperated look.

“I don’t know how many times I said the same about a bloke-”

“He’s not my bloke,” Aaron bit back with far too much sharpness, wondering how it was possible that she’d managed to get to the root of him and Robert so easily. Was it that obvious? Was Robert’s mark on him so prominent?

Chas looked taken aback, raising her hands in surrender. “I didn’t… No, I know he’s not. I just meant… Whatever he’s said to you, however he’s spun it-”

“He hasn’t spun anything! Look, Robert’s been nothing but good to me ever since I’ve known him, and until he shows me otherwise, I won’t be hearing anyone bad-mouthing him. All right?”

“Right. Course. Whatever you say.”

He waited, wondering if she meant it, but she kept her mouth shut and he nodded, relief flooding through him.

“Good,” he said, now perching on the arm of the sofa, safe in the knowledge that he wasn’t going to have to protect Robert from another attack.

“So whereabouts are you staying?” Chas asked, changing the subject.

“Robert’s just bought a flat down the road. At Mill Cottage.”

“And how long you staying with him?”

He kept the harshness from his voice this time, knowing that another row might finish them both off. “Haven’t decided,” he replied steadily.

“You know you could stay here? There’s plenty room, you could be moved in today if-”

“I’m fine where I am,” he said, but when he saw her face fall, he softened. “Thanks, though.”

She gave him a grateful smile and took a half-step forwards. “As long as you’re happy, I suppose. And you are? Happy, I mean.”

He thought about it for a second. He hadn’t been happy for so long that he wasn’t even sure he’d recognise it now. But he felt safe, knowing he had a roof over his head and food in his belly… and Robert. He didn’t have the weight of dread sat heavily on his shoulders, the burden of knowing that he would never be free unless he fucked his way out of the situation he was in. Now he went to sleep in a proper bed, warm and content, with the man he trusted wrapped around him, shielding him from harm. He couldn’t say for certain that it was happiness he felt, but he was sure it had to be pretty damn close.

“I’m doing fine.”

Chas scowled, arms folded across her chest. “Well, fine doesn’t sound-”

“Mum, I’m all right,” he interjected, before the two of them froze, realising it was the first time he’d called her ‘mum’. They stared, unmoving, for a second, and then her eyes were black mirrors, tears pooling in the corners.

“If you say so,” she murmured, voice barely audible as he saw her gulp. He had the almost uncontrollable urge to reach out and squeeze her hand, but they weren’t there yet. Nowhere close.

“I should get going. Bet you’ve got loads to do…”

“You could stay a bit longer,” she immediately replied, quickly swiping away her suddenly damp cheek with the sleeve of her cardigan. He pretended not to see.

“Maybe tomorrow,” he offered instead, hoping it would be enough to appease her. “Not like I’m going far.”

It did the trick. She gave him a weak smile and nodded, a smear of black beneath her left eye where the tears had ran. “No… No, that’s true. Still can’t believe you’re actually here.”

He returned her smile with one of his own, hoping it looked even halfway genuine. “You’ll have a while to get used to it.”

“Will I?” she asked hopefully, and the impulse was back, to reach out to her, hold her, reassure her that he wasn’t going anywhere. But somewhere at the back of his mind, a bitter voice piped up: Why should you? She never did the same for you.

“Not in any rush. Not right now, anyway. Can’t see myself moving on anytime soon.” He didn’t know why he said it. He had no concrete plans, and there was still a chance that Robert would turf him out, send him packing when he eventually screwed all this up, when his luck eventually ran out as it always did. He couldn’t guarantee that he’d be staying, and the lie sat like dead weight in his stomach.

“All right. Well, you know where I am. And you know you’re always welcome here, if… well, if things change.”

He nodded, even if the idea of living with her was worse than the idea of being on his own again.

“Yeah,” he said, now moving towards the door. She followed him, lashes still damp as she blinked the remaining tears back furiously. She opened the door for him, leaning against it as he slipped back outside, the frozen air making it difficult to breathe.

“So… tomorrow, then? I’m always up early for deliveries, so come round anytime.”

“Sure. I’ll do that,” he said, already wondering what excuse he could use to get out of it. Maybe Robert would be able to think of something,  that’s if Aaron managed to work up enough courage to tell him all that had happened since this morning. He couldn’t believe only a few hours ago, he’d still been hiding from everyone, and now he was making plans to go see his mum. It felt like he’d walked into a dream… or a nightmare.

He gave her an awkward wave as he headed back down the road, and she waved back, refusing to go inside even though there was a gale force wind rattling the windows. He stuffed his hands back into the pockets of Robert’s coat, pushing his nose into the padded collar to try and shield himself from the cold.

It was strange. Despite the nerves still clawing away at him incessantly, there was now a sense of calm which hadn’t been there before, dulling the excess fear which would once have overwhelmed him. His mum knew he was back, and while there was still miles between them, the distance had just been shortened. He hadn’t realised how much it had been weighing on him, how much he’d been struggling with it until now. But she knew now, and she hadn’t turned her back this time. She’d stayed put, and all he could do was smile as he followed the road round towards home, knowing that he was one step closer to achieving what he’d never felt before.

Happiness.

Chapter Text

He was stood with the fragments of a plate scattered about his feet when it suddenly hit him how truly pathetic he no doubt looked. Drinking alone in the dark, twisted up with bitterness and anger, panting harshly through his teeth as he glared down at the shattered, white china strewn everywhere. He’d imagined it was Andy’s jaw he was smashing, or possibly his father’s. His brain wasn’t fully operational any longer, the dots disconnected and blurring together. The bottle of whisky he’d demanded off of Carly was now half-empty, and his throat was still burning from having downed far too much far too quickly.

There was something disconcerting about the way the walls seemed to shift in front of him, and he steadied himself by leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, thumbs pressed into his eyelids to block out the motion sickness. He felt like he was on a merry-go-round, and it was only spinning faster and faster the more he desperately tried to get off.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Drowned his sorrows, sought answers in the bottom of a glass only to be met with the harrowing realisation that alcohol was far better at re-opening old wounds than it was at soothing them. He felt restless, like there was something he needed to do if only he could just think clearly. It could have been as simple as texting Andy a quick fuck you and possibly sending the same thing to Diane as well. Or maybe this time he should go bigger, grab a can of spray paint and desecrate Jack’s grave in sharp, red letters. The best thing to do would be to go confront all of them, the whole Sugden family, and tell them all exactly what he thought of them. Even Vic. It would be nothing more than they deserved for shunning him all these years, taking Andy’s side or Jack’s side or any fucker’s side over his.

“I’m a scapegoat,” he muttered to himself, grinding a shard of plate under the heel of his shoe until it was nothing but white powder against the dark, slate floor. He glanced at the sliver of amber liquid still left in his tumbler and immediately took a lurching step forwards, hand reaching out to grasp the cool glass and almost knocking it to the floor in the process. He breathed out through his nose, told himself to take it easy, and then focused on just bringing the rim of the tumbler to his lips. The sweet, acrid tang scorched his tongue, and he screwed his eyes shut, letting the fire settle in his chest as the whisky slowly trickled down to the base of his throat.

It was stupid to let it get to him like this. It was hardly as though this was the first time he’d been put firmly in his place, reminded that while Andy and Vic were certified, fully paid up members of the family, Robert was still waiting on his acceptance letter. But the words clung onto him regardless, digging into his skin till they were impossible to ignore, till they left red crescents on his palms.

Well, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? I mean, that’s exactly what happened with dad.

You’re only going to end up disappointing her in the end, you know that? She always thinks the best of you, and you always let her down, every time.

It doesn’t have to be like that, Robert. But you’ll have to put a bit more effort in if you want us to welcome you back with open arms.

Their voices pounded against his head, and he pressed the heel of his palm against his temple, desperately trying to block out the words. But they kept ricocheting off the inside of his skull, forcing him to listen as the room spun around him. He felt sick, stomach heaving, and he stumbled over to the sink, retching into the stark white basin. The bile rose up his throat, the bitterness hurting his tongue as he coughed and spluttered, fingers gripping the counter to try and balance himself. Beads of sweat sprang up along his hairline and he blew out a trembling breath through his mouth before running the tap, lapping at the frozen water to take the taste of whisky and sick away.

“You’re a mess,” he mumbled to himself, putting his hand under the tap and then giving his face and the back of his neck a quick, cool rub down. His stomach felt hollow and fragile, as if any sudden movement would have him bent over the sink again, so he stayed motionless, swaying a little as the floor shifted beneath his feet.

He kept his breathing moderately steady, let his eyes fall closed as he listened to the dull thrum of his heartbeat, allowed it to drown out everything else. He needed to switch off, to just block it all from his mind, even if it was just for a few minutes. He glanced at the clock on the cooker - 15:07. He wasn’t sure where Aaron was, maybe he’d decided to venture outside again after that near run-in with Chas. Maybe he’d gone into town. Maybe he’d seen sense like everyone else and left him.

Robert’s stomach lurched at the possibility and he almost considered going to the bedroom to see if Aaron’s meagre collection of clothes were still bundled up in a drawer. But the fear of finding them gone was too potent and so he remained where he was, telling himself that he was just being paranoid.

Even if he hasn’t left you, he will do soon.

He screwed his eyes shut, ignored the idea now pulsating inside his brain.

How long will he stay once he knows what you are? What you’ve done? How long before he sees the real you?

Robert clawed in air like he was drowning, but there was a weight on his chest which hadn’t been there before, and it stopped anything from reaching his lungs. Panic coursed through him, left him feeling rattled and cold, teeth chattering as he stared into the murky shadows.

You can’t keep him. He won’t stay forever, and then where will you be? Alone.

His legs buckled and he grabbed hold of the counter just before he plummeted to the floor. He slumped forward, knee banging against the cupboard door, and felt the first wave of defeat hit him square in the chest. He couldn’t see a point anymore, not when his own family had decided he was inches away from fucking up again. He’d only been back five minutes but they were already placing bets, wondering how long it would be before he made yet another mistake, made another bad decision. If even they couldn’t see he was trying, what hope did he have of convincing anyone else?

The jangle of keys echoed from outside and Robert hauled himself upright just as the front door clicked open and a dark figure appeared in the hallway.

“You home?” Aaron called into the darkness, and the relief which flooded through him was instant and overpowering.

“In here,” he said quietly, raking a hand through his hair and hoping to God he didn’t look as terrible as he felt. Aaron swivelled on the spot before following Robert’s voice through to the kitchen.

“What you doing in the dark?” he asked, and even though Robert couldn’t see his face clearly, somehow he knew he was smiling.

“Just thinking,” he replied, snatching a glance at the near-empty bottle of whisky sat on the table.

“Thought you were in Leeds? Big meeting, wasn’t it?” Aaron asked as he shrugged out of his coat - well, Robert’s coat, actually, but Aaron had claimed it as his own. It wasn’t the only thing of Robert’s he’d claimed, if he was being honest…

“Got cancelled.” The lie was hesitant, not as polished as some of the others he’d told, and he was reminded again how drunk he still was, how slow his brain was right now at processing everything. He hoped it would be the only lie he’d have to tell, because in his current state, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep up the pretence.

Aaron draped the coat over the back of the chair and then paused, taking in the bottle. “So you thought you’d have a knees up instead?” His voice was light, amused, but Robert felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“Problem?” he bit back, regretting it even before the word had left his mouth.

“No. Just thought I should ask, what with it being…” - Aaron paused, checking the time - “just gone three.”

Shame flushed Robert’s cheeks and he ducked his head, refusing to look Aaron in the eye. “Yeah, well. Rough day, that’s all.”

“What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Aaron moved closer, catching Robert’s eye through the darkness and holding his gaze. “Hey, this is me, remember?” He sounded so soft, so gentle, and the weight on his chest eased a fraction, though there was now an ache in its place, a dull throb which urged him to confess.

“I’m fine. Really,” he said automatically, dropping his eyes to the floor.

“Yeah, course you are. And drinking in the dark in the middle of the day is totally normal as well, is it?” Aaron replied, voice more clipped than usual. It set Robert’s teeth on edge.

“Would you just leave it? Christ, who asked you, anyway?”

“I don’t need to be asked,” Aaron retorted. “Something’s happened, and I want to know what it is.”

His head was thumping now, the alcohol still surging through him at an impossible rate. He felt weak and numb and frightened, every ounce of control slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep fighting this.

“I saw Andy.” He hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t wanted to. But now it was out there, and there was no taking it back.

“Your brother?”

Robert nodded reluctantly. “Yeah.”

“And it didn’t go well?”

He thought about what an understatement that was and stifled a sharp, broken laugh. “No.”

Aaron paused, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth as he pulled on a bit of skin. “Okay. Well, you knew it might take a bit of time. I mean, you had to seriously go some to get Vic on side, so chances are you’ll need to maybe put in some effort with Andy as well. He’ll forgive you eventually, Robert.”

Diane’s words echoed in his head: But you’ll have to put a bit more effort in if you want us to welcome you back with open arms. Why was it always him having to put in the extra work? Why was it always him forced to hold out the olive branch or wave the white flag in defeat? He was so sick of bending over backwards for everyone else, compromising at every turn, twisting himself inside out just to be in with a shot at being forgiven. When was someone going to do the same for him?

“What the Hell would you know about it?” he spat, hands balled into fists by his sides. The heat to his words sizzled and crackled in the space between them, and even though Aaron was barely a silhouette in front of him, Robert knew he was taken aback.

“Robert-”

“You don’t have any family,” he forced out, ignoring the slight waver that had been present in Aaron’s voice. “You’ve got no idea what this is like!”

“I do have family,” Aaron said quietly, and the guilt only hardened Robert further, even if his insides were being ripped to shreds.

“No, you’ve got a bunch of thieves and thugs who don’t even know you exist. Not the same, not even close.”

He could feel himself losing it. Losing control. Losing hope. But there was nothing he could do. It was like he was driving off the edge of a cliff and all he could do was watch as he plummeted towards the rocks below.

“Well, if you were like this with Andy then no wonder he told you where to go.”

Aaron’s voice snapped him out of his downward spiral and his jaw tensed. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, that you’re being a serious dick right now and I’m not surprised he didn’t put out the 'welcome home' banner,” he said coldly, and Robert took a faltering step backwards. “You can’t just expect him to forgive and forget because you’ve finally showed your face.”

“Why do you think you get a say in any of this? This has nothing to do with you,” Robert managed, but there was a lump in his throat and the words came out breathy and feeble.

“It does when you’re taking it out on me!” Aaron exclaimed. “It’s not my fault you’re too much of a prat to go say you’re sorry.”

“And why should I? I’m not the only one who was in the wrong.”

“Well, you must’ve done something pretty bad if it took Vic a whole year to even think about speaking to you again. Why can’t you just tell him you were an idiot and that you want to make amends? Why is that so hard?”

And there it was. The thing he’d feared would happen since day one. He couldn’t quite believe it had come true.

“I knew it,” he muttered, eyelids dipping closed for a second as the shock settled inside him.

“Knew what?”

“I knew you’d take his side,” he said calmly, too numb to feel anything at all. “Everyone does, I was stupid to think you’d be any different.”

“I’m not taking sides!” Aaron half-shouted, sounding more exasperated than angry. “I’m just saying-”

“You’re all the same. Every one of you, always choosing him over me. No matter what I do, it’s never enough,” Robert continued, ignoring Aaron’s urgent shake of his head. Rage quivered inside him, ready to take flight at any moment. “Always have to do more, do better… be better. It’s never fucking enough.”

“Robert…” Aaron reached out to take Robert’s hand, but it was too late. Robert was too far gone.

“Don’t touch me!” he snapped, pulling back and glaring at Aaron through the darkness. “You think I want your pity? Jesus, that’s a fucking joke. The prostitute being the one to feel sorry for someone else. You need to take a look in the mirror, mate.”

The words made his mouth dry, every cell in his body rejecting what he’d just said. You’ve lost him, he thought, and it was true. He had lost him.

“I’m not gonna stand here and listen to this,” Aaron snarled, almost by way of confirmation, and Robert felt himself shrug, even though he was barely registering anything beyond his own rapid, stuttering pulse.

“Go on, then. Leave. Only, it’s not like you’ve got anywhere to go, is it?” he said, and waited for Aaron to concede. Waited for them to both admit defeat, fall back into each others arms, murmur soft, urgent apologies as they kissed away the pain. Let me have that, please, he prayed, even as he felt the dream retreating into the silence.

“I do, actually. Mum said I can stay with her.”

For a second, Robert was sure he’d heard him wrong. But there was something in Aaron’s stance, a confidence, a certainty which hadn’t been there in all the time Robert had known him, which made him reconsider.

“What?” he asked, arms going limp.

“Yeah, that’s right. I would have told you, only you were a bit busy going off on one. Spoke to her today, cleared the air a bit. And she said I could go live with her if I fancied it. I said no, obviously, but maybe it’s not such a bad idea.”

No. Please, please, don’t say this is happening. It was like someone had brought his nightmare to life in vivid technicolour, and had strapped him in a chair just so he could watch it all play out in front of him.

“Fine. Go. Stay. All the same to me.” He didn’t even know what he was saying, felt his tongue forming around the words with no real idea of what they meant. Only that whatever he said now, it was just going to make things worse, and there was no way of stopping it.

“Right you are.” Aaron sounded so unmoved, as if they could easily have been talking about the weather or the football. But his shoulders were just a sharp, black outline and there was a glint in his eyes which Robert tried to convince himself wasn’t the first sting of tears. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would make it better, but Aaron had already grabbed his coat and was heading out to the hallway, yanking open the front door.

Robert waited. Listened. Strained his ear and pleaded with himself to just apologise, to get down on his knees if he had to. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, and it was only when he heard the door slam shut that he realised what he’d done.

The flat returned to its original hush, only this time it was suffocating, the darkness tightening around Robert like a straightjacket. He couldn’t breathe, the fear pummelling him so that his skin felt bruised and swollen. His eyes slid to the whisky bottle and he gave a choked noise, grabbing at the glass neck and unscrewing the cap with trembling fingers before pouring what remained into his open mouth. It scalded his throat, seared his insides, and he coughed violently before necking the rest.

He’s gone.

It was all he could think as he sank to the floor, still clutching the now empty bottle as he furiously staved off the tears he knew were coming. The alcohol made his head swim, and he slipped a little further, back pressed painfully against the fridge door, chin tucked into his neck as he bit down hard on his trembling bottom lip.

He’s gone, and it’s your fault.

The first sob broke through his teeth and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stop the rest, even as his lashes were soaked with tears. He let them fall silently against his cheeks, curling into himself as the bottle dropped from his hand, smacking off the hard, slate floor and rolling to a stop by his feet. He had never felt so alone, and it pushed down on him from all sides till he felt his muscles spasm with pain. And at the back of his mind, one thought rung out, clear as a bell.

Well done, Robert. You’ve fucked it up again.

Chapter Text

Chintz.

That was the first thing he saw when his eyes cracked open. Floral, chintz curtains pulled tight against the weak, January sunlight. It felt a little like being in an old folk’s home, and the quilted bedspread weighing heavily against his ankles was doing nothing to dissuade him of that idea.

He hadn’t slept well. Tossed and turned most of the night, unable to close his eyes without the feel of Robert’s warm body pressed up against his back. He needed him, and that was an unnerving prospect, because Aaron had got used to not needing anything or anyone. But now, it seemed, he wasn’t even able to go one night alone. He wondered, briefly, if Robert was struggling equally with the separation. He’d probably passed out on the floor, or maybe gone into town to continue drinking. Maybe he’d hooked up with someone. Maybe he’d taken them back to the flat, fucked on their bed. Maybe Robert was currently sleeping up against someone else this very second…

The covers pushed down on him and he shoved them off, shivering as he got up and grabbed his jeans from the floor. The image of Robert and some other guy kept churning round inside his head, even if the likelihood of it happening was slim. He hoped.

There was a clatter downstairs and Aaron tugged his belt round his narrow hips, fastening it tight before opening the door onto the landing of the pub. His mum had given him a quick tour yesterday, nervously pointing out the bathroom, her room, Doug and Diane’s room, linen cupboard… He hadn’t paid much attention, just nodded at regular intervals to convince her he was listening, but his mind had been entirely occupied on Robert.

“Things not going well?” she’d asked over dinner, eyeing him through thick, black lashes as they both picked at their lasagne.

“Why d’you say that?” he’d responded, trying not to sound defensive but failing miserably. He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice, and she had immediately shrugged, gaze sliding from his face back down to her full plate.

“No reason. Just… well, didn’t think you’d want to stop over here, what with you staying with him.”

She’d refused to say his name thus far, just called Robert ‘him’ with the barest hint of something to her voice which was too elusive for Aaron to catch. But he could guess. She was itching to say I told you so but she wasn’t quite sure whether that would rock the boat too much, so she’d decided to stay quiet. It was a wise move.

“He’s working late, that’s all. Thought I’d give him some space to finish.” The excuse had been well below par and he knew she hadn’t bought it, but the silence continued, both of them determined to keep the water calm rather than risk drowning in less forgiving currents.

That being said, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t start up again this morning. More questions, more looks which dug deep under Aaron’s skin. He blew out a breath through his nose, braced himself for a possible interrogation, and descended the creaky staircase two at a time.

He was about to launch into yet more excuses as to why he wasn’t going home for breakfast when he realised it wasn’t his mum making all the racket.

“Hello, love,” Diane said, laying cutlery at three set places around the table. “Sleep all right?”

He’d met her yesterday, having been brought through by an eager Chas who had introduced him as ‘her son’. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal for either of them, but somehow it had felt monumental, his chest heaving with something akin to pride, or hope. Diane had wrapped him in a tight, warm embrace, patted him hard on the back with a strength that had almost winded him, and then said he was welcome to stay as long as he liked.

It had felt good, despite wishing he was back with Robert, to know he wasn’t alone anymore. He had people who cared, and it wasn’t something he ever imagined he’d get used to, for however long it lasted.

“Yeah, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, standing just inside the doorway, rubbing his arm while he waited for her to invite him properly inside. After a few minutes, she glanced up again, realising that the silence wasn’t going to be broken by him.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Plates are in that cupboard. I’m doing a full English, unless you’re one of them vegetarians?”

“No,” he laughed, slipping passed her to reach the overhead cupboards.

 “Good. Looks like you could do with feeding up an’ all.” She glanced at the ratty t-shirt pulled taut across his narrow waist and he instinctively wrapped an arm around himself.

“How many you needing?” he asked as a way to distract her, gesturing to the stack of plates piled high inside. Her eyes flicked upwards. “Three. Doug’s up and out, so it’s just me, you and your mum.”

He nodded, carefully carrying them over to the table and setting them at the places Diane had arranged. It felt surreal in the sense that this was normal, this was the domestic, settled routine which he’d always dreamed of but had never envisaged happening: helping set the table, sitting down to breakfast with his mum, putting up with the usual concerned questions about if he was eating all right. Except, of course, they weren’t usual. No part of this had ever been a feature in his dysfunctional, disjointed life.

“Chas tells me you’ve been staying with Robert, is that right?”

He snapped out of his thoughts and was met with Diane’s expectant stare which he immediately shied away from.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

“That’s some coincidence, the two of you meeting up outside the village,” she continued, now distracted by the frying bacon sizzling in the pan.

“I suppose so. We just… bumped into each other.” He almost smiled, remembering the nature of their first meeting, the bonnet of Robert’s car slamming into his side and sending him flying onto the rough, wet tarmac. Best thing that had ever happened to him.

“Robert’s not usually the sort to… make friends easily.”

Aaron bristled, gripping the back of the chair too hard. “Well, we get on. He’s a good mate,” he replied with just a hint of warning to his tone. No matter what had happened last night, Aaron wasn’t about to let anyone rip into Robert, not without him there to defend himself.

“Glad to hear it.” She gave him a smile, but her expression was still marred by concern, and he knew more was coming.

“Just try not to rely on him too much, will you, pet? He’s a good lad, but he doesn’t half make trouble for himself, sometimes. And you don’t want to get caught up in that.”

“What kind of trouble?” he found himself asking, and Diane’s skittish gaze only increased his curiosity. “Anything illegal?”

“Oh no… well, not really. He’s just got a habit of saying the wrong thing. Likes winding people up, pushing their buttons. Him and his brother… well, I’m sure he’s told you himself.”

Aaron shrugged. “A bit. They don’t get on, that’s about all I know.”

Diane sighed, grabbing one of the plates and placing it on the worktop. “I could knock their heads together sometimes, not that it’d do either of them any good. Always been at each others' throats, since they were kids.”

“That’s brothers though, innit? Always getting into scraps-”

“Not like this,” Diane cut him off, dropping three rashers of bacon onto the plate. “There’s a reason Robert left, let’s put it that way. I wonder if it might have been better all round if he’d just… stayed away.”

Aaron scowled, now wondering if Robert had been right all along about his family. Maybe everyone really did take Andy’s side over his.

“You’re not glad he’s home?” he pushed, the surprise evident in his voice.

Diane shook her head sadly. “If I thought he was here to make amends, then I’d love nothing more than to see him back where he belongs. But Robert has a nasty habit of hurting people, even when he doesn’t mean to. Victoria was so upset last time… I’m not sure any of us could go through it again.”

“What did he do that was so bad?” There was a part of him that didn’t want to ask, a part of him that kept whispering: this isn’t any of your business. But he drowned it out, his need to know more outweighing Robert’s right to privacy.

For a second, Aaron was sure Diane was going to tell him to keep his nose out. But then her shoulders dropped, she switched the gas off, and gave him a reluctant but no-less defeated look.

“Has he said anything about Katie? Andy’s wife?”

Aaron shook his head, searching through the limited conversations he and Robert had had about his past. They hadn’t extended to anyone outside of Robert’s brother, sister and father.

Diane nodded, not in the least shocked. “She and Robert used to be… an item. Years ago now, all ancient history. She was married to Andy back then, and she and Robert had an affair. It was painful for everyone, but no one more than Andy. He was broken-hearted.”

Aaron chewed on the inside of his cheek, mind screaming with questions. He knew Robert had slept with women as well, he’d told him as much one night when Aaron had been brave enough to ask about Robert’s sexuality. But he’d definitely never mentioned anything about sleeping with his brother’s wife.

“And him and Andy haven’t got on ever since?”

“They didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye before that, but yes, after it all came out there was even more reason for them to hate each other.”

Aaron nodded, before realising that didn’t answer why Robert had left the village last year. “So him ending up in Leeds… that had something to do with Andy’s wife?”

Diane took the other two plates off the table to pile on the rest of the food. “Robert coming back was such a shock, none of us knew why he’d decided to show up after all those years of being away. And I think we all walked on eggshells for a bit, even him, trying to keep things civil. Victoria was so glad to have him home, she’d missed him, and the odd birthday and Christmas card just hadn’t been enough.”

Aaron took the laden plates from her hands and placed them down at either end of the table before taking a seat. He couldn’t believe how much Robert had failed to tell him, how much of his past had remained entirely unknown to him until now.

“He hadn’t been back long when things started getting difficult,” she continued, grabbing the salt from the centre of the table and shaking it generously over her food. “Him and Andy started bickering, Robert kept having a go at Katie, couldn’t help himself making digs, reminding them both of what happened in the past. And then, on their wedding day, it turned out Robert had gotten the rings inscribed… Well, I won’t tell you what they said, but I bet you can imagine.”

Aaron couldn’t, but he knew better than to ask. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to know.

“He said he was sorry, but Katie wouldn’t forgive him and everything got out of hand. Neither of them could let it go, always rowing about one thing or another and with poor Andy stuck in the middle. But something happened, I don’t know what, and Robert crossed the line. He said some truly terrible things, and after that it just didn’t seem like there was much hope. So he left.”

“She must have done something, though, to make him snap like that?” Aaron pushed, not buying the idea that Robert was the only guilty party in all this.

Diane frowned, buttering a slice of bread. “I’m sure it wasn’t all black and white, and no doubt she wound him up just as much, but Robert… he takes it too far, every time.”

The door opened just as he was about to ask another question and his mum appeared, a clipboard tucked under her arm.

“You’re up!” she exclaimed, startled as her gaze shifted from Aaron to Diane and back again.

“Shouldn’t I be?” he asked, shoving a mouthful of bacon and beans into his mouth before grabbing the bottle of ketchup from the table.

Chas tucked an errant curl behind her ear and came to sit next to him, passing the clipboard over to Diane who glanced at it briefly before stretching over to place it on the counter.

“No, just thought you’d fancy a lie-in. It’s not even nine.”

He shrugged. “Never been one to sleep in.”

“God, well you used to sleep like the dead. Could never drag you out of bed in the morning,” she joked, picking up her knife and fork to tuck into her breakfast. Aaron remained mute, deciding not to remind them both that it had been a long time since those ‘golden’ days.

“You two got much planned today? I can manage behind the bar if you want to head off?” Diane asked, perhaps noticing the tension which made Aaron’s shoulders rigid.

Chas glanced at him hopefully, and he placed his fork down onto his plate where it half-slid into the remaining beans now congealing in their sauce.

“It’s all right, I’ll have to head back in a bit, anyway.”

“You can stay for lunch, though? Marlon can make us a proper slap-up meal. Think he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

Aaron couldn’t remember Marlon at all, other than that he’d seemed like a giant when he was a kid. The idea of being paraded around, though, forced to make small talk with more and more distant relatives made his heart stammer and he quickly ducked his head.

“How many people have you told... about me being back?” he asked hesitantly.

She swallowed hard. “Just a couple for now. Marlon and Charity… and Cain.”

Aaron looked up. “Cain knows?”

“Yeah. Said he’d try and pop round sometime, although he’s working flat out at the garage what with Debbie being off on holiday with the kids.”

Debbie. He’d almost forgotten about her. Last time Aaron had laid eyes on her, she’d been a gobby teenager with far too many problems of her own to bother with him. Now she was working with her dad at the garage. And she had kids. He wondered for a moment if she’d tried to get her baby back, if she’d regretted her decision enough to change her mind. Unlike his own mum.

“No rush, is there? He can come round whenever he’s free. Don’t have to see everyone in one go.”

Chas glanced at Diane and then back to him. “Not if you don’t want to?”

“Just whenever they’ve got time, that’s fine with me. Like I said, not planning on going anywhere soon.” Of course, that wasn’t strictly true. If things didn’t calm down with Robert, Aaron would have to decide whether to live at the pub with Chas, or risk Ronnie’s fury by moving back to Leeds. Neither prospect seemed exactly appealing.

His mum seemed to soften at the idea of him staying put, and she gave him a glowing smile. “Well, then, we won’t rush it. Just Marlon today, eh?”

He nodded despite himself and finished off the last of his breakfast in order to stop them from talking anymore about his extended family. Diane cleared her plate and, after taking Aaron’s as well, she popped them in the dishwasher and made herself scarce.

“Take your time. It won’t start to get busy till lunchtime, and I can get Victoria if I need a hand,” she said as a parting comment before she slipped through the door, leaving Chas and Aaron to themselves.

He knew the silence was deafening to them both. Yesterday had been a whirlwind of confusion and elation as he explained his need to stay over for the night, but now they were left with the dizzying reality that they were going to have to talk. And neither had any idea of where to start.

“You spoken to him yet?” she asked, cutting up the final baked tomato on her plate. It was said innocently enough, but Aaron caught the tail-end of her scowl and it made his skin prickle.

“No,” he replied, grabbing his glass and going up to refill it with water. He kept his back to her, not that that was going to stop whatever was coming.

“You’ve not had a falling out or anything?”

He rolled his eyes skyward, and wondered again why he thought it would ever have been a better idea to stay here than put up with a drunken, abusive Robert.

“No,” he said again, now turning to face her with a look that said leave it in bold, capital letters.

“Just… a bit odd, you needing to stay here when you’ve got your own room over the road?”

“Saying you want me gone?”

“No!” she exclaimed, knife smacking down onto the plate. “I’ve loved having you over.”

“Right. Then what’s the problem?”

“I just don’t want him hurting you, that’s all. If he’s done something-”

“He hasn’t done anything,” he interjected, knowing this was going to escalate well beyond what it needed to if he let her carry on. “Look, he’s stressed with work, needed a bit of a breather, so I suggested I stay here for the night to let him catch up. That’s all it is.”

He was surprised how easily the lie came to him. Robert must have been rubbing off on him more than he thought. It was an uncomfortable idea to accept. 

Chas, placated, gave a sigh. “All right. Well, I’ll say no more about it, then.”

“Good. Now, I should go get a shower, if that’s fine with you?”

“Go ahead. Use all the hot water you need.” She gave him another smile, slightly forced but still bright enough that it made his heart quiver, and he returned it with one of his own, if infinitely more subdued.

He got to the door before he turned, just a quick glance, and caught his mum watching him with wide eyes. Almost like she couldn’t believe he was there at all.

“It really is good to have you back, son,” she said, voice weaker than before. She sounded genuine, and it chiselled away at the carefully constructed barriers that had shielded him for so long. He’d imagined her saying those words in his dreams, imagined her smile when he finally came home. But even then he had always known it would never be more than a figment of his imagination. It still took the breath from him that he was standing before her now.

“Thanks,” he replied before slipping back out into the narrow hallway.

***

He took his time getting ready, not wanting to go back downstairs too soon, knowing that once he did, there would be no escaping another conversation with his mum. It wasn’t that he minded talking to her. A bit weird, definitely, but it was manageable in small doses. But he’d already started to get tired of the long, lingering glances that made him shrink into himself, or the incessant questions about his past. He’d avoided them as much as possible, but he knew he couldn’t do that forever. They’d been apart for ten years, and she seemed desperate to know every little detail of the decade he’d been away.

When he did eventually go downstairs, though, he found the backroom empty. He could hear his mum chatting through at the bar and he followed her voice, only to be met with Vic in her starched, white chef’s outfit and a bloke that Aaron recognised but couldn’t place.

“Wait… this is Aaron?” the guy asked as soon as he appeared from the back of the pub. “Oh, mate, you should have said! And here was me offering you directions.”

It clicked, then. It was the man who’d stopped him in the street, the first day he’d saw his mum at The Woolpack. The overly-friendly retriever.

“No worries,” he returned, noting with a little surprise that the guy had his hand on Vic’s lower back. “Didn’t catch your name?”

“This is Adam,” Victoria chimed in, now snaking her arm round Adam’s waist. “My husband.”

They smiled down at each other and Aaron tried hard not to dry-heave while Chas looked on with an amused smile.

“Look, babe, I’ve got to get going. Mum needs me up at the farm, it’s all hands on deck,” Adam said, leaning down to press his lips against hers. Vic nodded reluctantly, untangling herself from his side.

“Andy going up as well?”

Adam nodded. “We’re needing everyone right now, just until this order’s finished.”

He waved to the three of them before heading back outside, and then Vic’s bright, green eyes swivelled back towards Aaron with an unnerving speed.

“And how come this is the first time I’m hearing about you sleeping at the pub?” she asked, the accusation clear in her tone.

He sighed, shoving his hands into the stiff pockets of his jeans. “Didn’t realise I needed to run it passed you first?”

“Well, what’s happened with you and Robert? Why aren’t you still staying with him?” she continued, her voice becoming more insistent as she put her hands on her hips. If he didn’t know how truly terrifying she could be, Aaron might have laughed.

“I am! Jesus, I just stayed here for one night to give him a bit of space,” he explained, hoping it might calm her down a bit.

Vic gave him a dejected look, arms falling by her sides. “Oh God, I knew him and Andy talking wouldn’t end well. What happened?”

Aaron glanced over at his mum who was now listening intently to their conversation while pretending to be doing something with the till, and he steered Victoria away towards the end of the bar, hoping Chas wouldn’t be able to hear.

“How do you know they spoke?” he asked quietly, and Vic seemed to catch on because she lowered her voice as well.

“Bumped into Katie yesterday. She said him and Andy had had words, but she didn’t know what about, though. So?”

“So?” he repeated, waiting for her to finish.

“Tell me!” she exclaimed pleadingly, and Aaron shushed her, his eyes flicking over to his mum who was still pretending like she wasn’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“How would I know. Look, he had a bit of work to do last night, so I thought it’d be easier if I stayed here.”

Victoria took a step back, eyebrows raised, and then scoffed loudly. “You don’t actually think I’m gonna buy that, do you?”

“Not my problem,” he said with a nonchalant shrug which only seemed to irk her more.

“Aaron!”

“Vic, if you want to know what went on, go speak to your brother. Either of them. It’s nothing to do with me,” he replied firmly, staring her down until she eventually looked away, lips pouting in a way that Aaron had only associated with Robert before now.

“Fat lot of help you are,” she muttered, sighing.

“I’m not going behind his back,” he explained softly, before nudging her arm. “You wouldn’t want me to, either.”

“I just want him to stay this time. That’s all.” Her green eyes had gone impossibly large as she stared up at him and he found his strength wavering, his determination to remain steadfast quaking as he lost himself in those doe-eyes.

“Then leave them to work it out themselves. Stop poking your nose in,” he said, but gave her a warm smile just to show her he wasn’t being totally serious. She nodded, looking slightly deflated.

“You’re right. It’s just… they’re family, and I want them to get on.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen overnight. Just give it time.” He squeezed her arm, and suddenly wondered when he and Vic had got so miraculously close. She had been the bane of his and Robert’s lives not a week ago, and now he was offering her comfort and advice. 

“When did you get so wise?” she asked jokingly, giving his own arm a slight prod. Aaron grinned, running a hand through his still-damp hair.

“Not hard, compared to you.”

“Oi!” she exclaimed, but the two of them were laughing, Victoria’s plaited bun bobbing up and down as they giggled quietly.

“Look, it’ll be fine. Robert will calm down, eventually. Think he just needed a breather, that’s all.”

Vic nodded, sighing again. “You know, I’m really glad he has you. Andy can talk to us, and he’s got Katie, but Rob… he never seems to open up to anyone. You’re the only friend he’s got.”

Aaron gulped, reminded of their conversation last night, how quickly it had deteriorated into shouting and insults. He wasn’t sure Robert saw Aaron as a friend anymore, if he ever had. Maybe all they had in common was sex, maybe that’s all it could ever be.

She gave him another smile, wearier this time, and then headed back into the kitchen, leaving him to stand awkwardly, awaiting his mum’s imminent input.

“You and Vic all right?” she asked, pouring a bag of change into one of the sections of the till drawer. She wasn’t looking at him, but the tension along her back said she was listening intently for his answer.

“Yeah, fine.” He made no move to go into further detail, and after a few seconds Chas turned to face him.

“Andy and Robert have had words, then?”

He refrained from rolling his eyes, but his nostrils flared and he ground his teeth together. “Didn’t realise you were listening in.”

“I wasn’t,” she denied, before her holier-than-thou expression fell when she realised it wasn’t going to wash with him. “Well… not really. And anyway, Katie told me Andy was upset last night.”

Katie, again, he thought, almost impressed by how quickly she’d managed to get round the whole village in a bid to tarnish Robert’s name.

“Seems like she’s been shooting her mouth off to everyone,” he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. Chas gave him a warning look.

“She’s got every right to hate him after what he said.” There was a bite to her words which he hadn’t heard for a while, not since he was a child, and he took an involuntary step back.

“You and her friends, are you?”

“We are, yeah,” Chas replied immediately. “And she’s a good person, unlike someone else I could mention.”

“Can we not go into this again?”

“I’m not. I won’t. I just think you need to go into this with your eyes open. Robert’s a nasty piece of work, always has been. But what he said to Katie… Well, it’s no wonder she can’t stand him.”

He felt his hackles rising again and he shook his head, determined not to hear anymore of this bullshit.

“What, and he was the only one to blame, was he?”

Chas took a step forwards, dipping her head so as not to alert any of the other customers to their conversation.

“He threatened to kill her, Aaron. He laughed about it, thought it was funny. That’s who you’re living with.”

No. The refusal pounded inside his head, and he stared blankly at her, unable to believe what was being said. Robert wouldn’t have done something like that. He could be horrible, Aaron had seen that first hand, but there was a big gap between being occasionally cruel and this.

“There’s no way he said that.”

Chas gave him a knowing smile, as if she’d been anticipating his rejection of her words. “She recorded it on her phone. I’ll get you a copy if you don’t believe me. Diane and Victoria wouldn’t have just turned their backs on him for no reason. He pushed them to it.”

Just at that moment, his phone vibrated and he pulled it from his jeans pocket, heart slamming against his chest as he saw it was a text from Robert.

Can we talk?

That’s all it said. No apology, no explanation. Just three words and he expected Aaron to come running.

“I’ve got to go.” The words were out of his mouth before he’d even had a chance to fully think it through. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, mind already wandering to what Robert was going to say to him, or what he was going to say to Robert.

“What? Why?” Chas questioned, panic shooting across her face.

“I just do.”

“But we were going to have lunch,” she pleaded, “and Marlon-”

“I’m sure Marlon’ll cope. And we can do lunch some other time,” he snapped, before realising that he’d been too short with her. “I’ll come round tomorrow, yeah?”

Chas seemed to stifle another protest and instead gave a reluctant nod. “Well… all right, then. I suppose.”

“Thanks.”

He suddenly felt a pang of reluctance to leave her, and he thought about letting Robert sweat for a little while longer, spend the day with his mum instead. But he had already moved to the opposite side of the bar, zipped up his hoodie, and there was an urgency to his steps which confirmed what he was already feelings:

He needed to go home. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure that’s where he belonged anymore…

Chapter Text

He would have texted Aaron sooner, but he’d spent the majority of his morning sat in the shower, water beating down on his shoulders, desperately trying not to pass out or throw up. He could handle his drink, his tolerance having been built up over several years of wanting to feel nothing, of wanting to not exist for as long as possible without doing permanent damage. But yesterday had been the first time in quite a while that he’d almost drowned himself in whisky, and his body had been rejecting the effects with a ferocity which still had him quivering, breath coming out in shallow rasps.

His phone hadn’t buzzed with a reply yet. In truth, he hadn’t expected Aaron to respond immediately. Maybe not at all, if his hazy memory of the previous night was anything to go by. He could recall what he’d said, maybe not verbatim, but the message he’d sent out was pretty clear. Robert had practically forced Aaron out the door, and now he’d have to live with the consequences, even if those consequences involved Aaron not returning, unless it was to pick up his few belongings.

The idea had been pummelling his brain for the passed hour, an incessant drum beat which made it impossible to think clearly. What if he doesn’t even say goodbye? What if he just decides to stay at The Woolpack? What if he doesn’t even bother to tell you he’s not coming home?

The screen lit up suddenly and Robert grabbed it, quickly unlocking the phone before cursing viciously as an email came through from work:

Robert,

Not sure what the Hell is going on with you. I know you said there was some kind of family emergency, but I’d appreciate a call if you decide not to show up at the office. I’m hoping the three reports I gave you are almost done. Tell me now if you can’t do them, otherwise I expect to have them finished and sent back to me by this evening.

Regards,

Oliver

Robert hissed another series of fucks before placing the phone face down on the table. He’d promised he’d come into the Leeds office this morning to hand over his findings for the new Harley & Coburn contract he’d been working on for months. And he’d forgotten. It should have been done weeks ago, in all honesty, but he’d not exactly anticipated taking in a stray prostitute, never mind everything that had come afterwards.

He glanced reluctantly at his Macbook which he could just see on the desk in his office, or ‘Aaron’s bedroom’ as was its formal title. Not that Aaron had ever slept there… not that he could sleep there considering it didn’t have a proper bed. Just a rickety fold-up frame and a mattress currently shoved behind the filing cabinet which Robert had bought simply to cover his own back if anyone came snooping. So far, though, he had managed to avoid the worst excesses of such awkward conversations, considering he was on Diane and Andy’s blacklists, and Victoria was going to think whatever she wanted, with or without proof. She didn’t need him to confirm or deny anything.

Then again, maybe there wasn’t anything for her to find out about now. It should have felt more like a relief, not having to lie to her anymore or hide a part of his life. It didn’t. If anything, it just made the regret harder to bear, knowing there wasn’t even the smallest of compensations for losing Aaron.

Something slammed outside, possibly just an open window rattling off its hinges with the wind, but more likely a door. There were other tenants. One of them had probably just come back from the shops, or popped home for their lunch. Still, he leaned forwards in his seat, elbows propped on the table as his eyes fixed on the door, willing it to open.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the entrance hallway, and then they stopped. Please, Robert prayed, just about to get up when the handle suddenly twisted and the door swung open. Aaron, with his black hoodie zipped up against the chill and a dusting of snow melting in his dark hair, cautiously stepped inside. Robert felt a sharp tug on his heart and he willed himself to move, pushing against the table to make it easier to stand. His legs were almost cemented to the floor but he straightened them all the same, blinking through the dizziness and nausea until his stomach stopped somersaulting.

“Didn’t think you’d come,” he heard himself say, and Aaron turned, startled at hearing Robert’s voice, before taking a few hesitant steps until he reached the entrance to the kitchen. He looked tired. That was the first thing Robert thought as Aaron halted just under one of the ceiling lights. Heavy shadows hung beneath his eyes, his skin was pale despite the flash of scarlet emblazoned on his cheeks from the shrill wind outside, and Robert could clearly see the red tears his teeth had made against his lower lip.

He didn’t want to feel glad, but it was a comfort to know that last night had not just been horrific for him.

“Thought I’d have you wait a while… but it didn’t seem worth it. Might as well get this over with.”

Aaron could do that, Robert had found: build his hopes one minute, and knock them down in another. He likely didn’t do it deliberately, probably didn’t think about it at all, but to Robert it was a steel-capped boot to his teeth.

“Right. Okay.” He felt the weight of defeat settle into his bones, and he bowed his head, telling himself he was ready for what was coming even while his whole body quivered with the realisation he had lost.

“You calmed down since yesterday?”

Robert thought about it for a second. There was still a restless energy inside him, but it was dulled now without the alcohol, and even more diluted still with Aaron here.

“Yeah. I’m better now. Sorry.” It wasn’t nearly enough, he knew that. As did Aaron apparently, who gave a disbelieving scoff.

“Don’t hold back now. Anyone would think you meant it,” he said acerbically, and there was something else to his voice which Robert hadn’t heard before. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but an alarm bell started ringing in the back of his head. Warning him to tread carefully. DANGER AHEAD is what it sounded like.

“I do mean it. I should never have gone off at you.”

“Still did, though.”

“Yeah, I still did,” Robert conceded, sighing. There was no use trying to defend himself. He knew he’d been shit.

“It’s funny, cause it’d be easy enough to forgive you if it was just that. I mean, I’d make you grovel first, have you put in some effort-”

“What do you mean, if it was just that? What else have I done?” Robert interjected, glancing up to meet Aaron’s steely expression.

“Good question.”

The tone was back again, the one that had goosebumps rising against the back of Robert’s arms. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what yet, but he had an instinctive sense that he should be gearing up for battle.

“Aaron…” he began, but got no further, halted by Aaron shaking his head.

“I’m not an idiot, Robert. I knew there had to be a reason you never went back home. Why Vic didn’t want to speak to you until now.”

“Wh- What? Where is this coming from?” Robert stammered, and now his head was pounding for a very different reason. This couldn’t happen now, not when he was already making such a mess of everything. He couldn't have Aaron knowing this as well.

“Turns out, a lot of people are more than happy to fill me in on the stuff you forgot to mention. Mum, especially.”

Well, that shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Chas had never been his biggest advocate, always standing up for Katie whenever they had descended into another row. But poisoning Aaron against him? He didn’t realise she hated him that much.

“What did she say?” he asked, still desperately trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe she’d told him about the rings, or setting the caravan on fire, or all the little digs he’d got in while he was still in the village. Maybe she wouldn’t have told him everything.

Aaron shoved his hands into his pockets, shoulders straightening out as he stood an inch or so taller than before. It wasn’t confidence he was exuding, Robert wasn’t sure he could muster that, but there was an edge to him now that he wasn’t sure he liked.

“Well, you and your brother don’t get on after you knocked off his wife.”

Oh. Well… that’s easy enough to explain.

“That was ages ago!” he exclaimed, relief flooding through him. “Yeah, me and her had an affair, and Andy found out. But we were kids back then, a lot’s changed since those days.”

Aaron smiled, but it was brittle as ice. “A lot has, yeah. You’ve moved on from wanting to be with her, now you apparently want to kill her!”

 No.

“Aaron-”

“Go on. I’m listening,” he cut him off, but he sounded calm, measured, reasonable. Like he genuinely would. And for Robert, who had expected the words to be sharp and barbed, hearing Aaron so sincere was worse. It was infinitely worse.

“I… I can’t.”

He didn’t look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He just stared at Robert, like he’d been expecting it.

“You’re saying you won’t tell me?” he clarified, his voice still unnervingly even. It had Robert dry-swallowing, his skin itching under Aaron’s gaze.

“I’m saying I can’t tell you,” he tried to explain, voice almost pleading. He needed to make Aaron see that this wasn’t a choice, this wasn’t something he could go into willingly. The past is a foreign country, that’s how it went, wasn’t it? Well, it had never felt truer to him. His past was not a place he ever wanted to revisit again, and especially not with Aaron dragged along behind him.

“Why?”

He shook his head, stomach cartwheeling as his hangover magnified tenfold. “You wouldn’t understand,” he murmured, and braced himself for what he knew was coming.

 “I can, but I don’t want more of the same bullshit, Robert. Do you honestly hate her that much that you wanted her dead?” Aaron responded, his voice now strained as he inched a little closer. Robert took an involuntary step back.

“That’s not what it was like. I didn’t mean…” He paused, wondering what he actually planned on saying. Had he meant to threaten Katie? Yes, yes he had. She’d been venomous that day, more so than he’d ever witnessed previously. Spewing her nasty diatribe at him with that malicious grin which told him she was winning, and she knew it. God, he had wanted to kill her then. He’d wanted to slam her back against the wall, choke that pretty neck of hers till she stopped smiling. Go on, Robert, tell him that. Tell Aaron what you wanted to do to her. I’m sure he’ll understand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finished, the sound of Katie’s laughter infiltrating his thoughts. Even in his head, she was mocking him. Still managing to fuck up his life, despite not being in the room.

“Don’t do that. You always do that. Just tell me. Christ, it can’t be any worse than what I’m thinking.”

Yes, it can, Robert thought immediately, but didn’t say it. He couldn’t have Aaron’s imagination becoming anymore vivid than it already was. God knows what was already going through his head.

He let out a breath, weak and shallow, before he met Aaron’s pleading stare. “I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, deciding not to add: Because you’ll hate me if I do.

Aaron raised his arms out by his sides before letting them drop again. “So, what do we do, then? Do I just forget about it? Pretend like you didn’t threaten to kill your brother’s wife?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly. He wasn’t sure what they did now, but he knew for sure that he couldn’t explain. If Aaron wasn’t about to leave him already, he certainly would after that confession.

“You have to trust me, Robert.” Aaron had moved closer without him realizing, and his voice was softer this time, encouraging. A siren’s call beckoning him out to sea, luring him into a trap.

“I can’t.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and stepped back again, only the distance seemed so much greater than just a few feet.

“Then why am I here?” he demanded, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Why did you ask me here to talk if you don’t want to say anything?”

“I wanted to apologise.” That wasn’t strictly true. He’d texted on the pretext of apologising, but really he’d just wanted to see him. He’d missed him. And more than that, he was scared of being without him. Scared of who he would revert back to if Aaron wasn’t there to ground him, keep him sane, keep him whole.

“I don’t want an apology. You can say you were drunk or you didn’t mean it-”

“I didn’t mean it,” Robert reiterated, but he could tell the words weren’t getting through. Nothing was getting through.

“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s not the problem right now. The problem is you keep lying to me, or keeping stuff from me. I had to hear about Katie from Diane! We’re supposed to be- I don’t know, we’re supposed to know things about each other, but I don’t know anything about you!”

“You can’t just expect me to tell you everything about myself all in one go,” he said, even though he didn’t want to tell Aaron anything about himself, far less the entire, unfiltered autobiography of his miserable life.

Aaron sighed, wiping the sleeve of his hoodie across his forehead where some of the melted snow was now dripping from his ungelled hair. “I don’t. But something like that? Yeah, I expect you to tell me something like that.”

“You’d have run a mile.”

“What, with my past?” Aaron replied immediately, and Robert met his gaze with one of utter confusion.

“That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Of course it does!” Aaron exclaimed. “You think I ever imagined being with someone like you? Ever? You think I ever dreamed about living in a nice flat, with my family just round the corner, settled and happy? You honestly think I’d have run from that?”

A thought struck him, unwarranted and entirely unwelcome, but it burrowed deep into his brain until he couldn’t help but say it aloud.

“So… you’re saying that it doesn’t matter what I do, you’re going to stay anyway? Because this is better than the alternative?”

It took a second for Aaron to replay what Robert had just said, before his jaw set into an angular line. “Don’t twist my words.”

“You just made me sound like your meal ticket, Aaron. I’m not twisting anything!” he retorted, panic threatening to take hold if he didn’t quash it immediately. Was this why Aaron was really with him? Because he was grateful to Robert for taking him in? Because any life, even one spent with Robert, was better than going back to his pimp?

Aaron was looking at him incredulously, like he thought this conversation had reached new levels of absurdity. “I’m saying that I wouldn’t give this up unless I had to, unless you pushed me too far, like you’re doing now. I wouldn’t have bolted just because you fucked up in the past!”

Except that wasn’t true, because Aaron had left him alone last night over some stupid row. If he’d found out about Katie, or worse, if Robert had told him what he’d been thinking that day, there was no way Aaron would have stayed. It had just been too big a risk to take.

“So threatening to kill someone is okay in your book, but the fact that I lied about it is what you’re struggling with? That’s some seriously messed up logic, you know.”

It hurt. Robert could see how his words punctured Aaron’s armour, found the weakest link and slipped between his defenses like an arrow. He was terrifyingly good at it, to the point where he didn’t even need to think about it anymore. It was instinctive, automatic.

“Why are you doing this? Why can’t you just tell me-?”

“Because I can’t!” Robert yelled, and another wave of panic overtook him, made his heart clench violently. “What do you want me to say, Aaron? You want me to say I regret what I did? I don’t. She’s a vindictive little bitch and I wish to God I’d gone through with it when I had the chance!”

Well, there goes any hope you had of reconciling, now. Congratulations, you’re still just as utterly, fucking stupid as you always were.

“Jesus, Robert…” Aaron whispered shakily, eyes wide with something that Robert reluctantly labelled as ‘terror’.

“You see, this is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about this,” he said, forcing himself to seem calm even if he was almost convulsing on the inside. He wanted to take it back, to rewind, to sit Aaron down and explain it all from his point of view. But it was too late for that. He’d said too much, and now he was going to watch as the future he’d built in his head exploded right in front of him.

“What, because you didn’t want to admit that you wished you’d murdered someone in cold blood?”

Aaron looked stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe what Robert was saying, but he was starting to accept it all the same.

“Now who’s twisting whose words,” he snapped, all that fear and bitterness twisting and knotting inside him till he felt sick with it, till it was crawling up his throat and into his mouth. He swallowed it back down again.

“I’m not twisting anything.”

“I don’t know what else I can say.”

Aaron’s eyes bulged and he ran a hand through his hair. “Plenty. You can say plenty.”

Except he could think of nothing which would change it now. He’d done the worst of the damage himself, and saying anything more would only speed up the process. He’d already shot himself in the foot, he wasn’t about to place the gun against his head as well.

“No.”

Aaron stared at him for a second, letting the word sink in, allowing the refusal to drop like a stone in water till all that was left were the ripples stretching out between them.

“So, that’s it, then? Instead of just telling me the truth, you’ll let me think you wanted to kill someone?”

“What if that is the truth?” He’d never meant to say it. It was just a question for him to torture himself with when Aaron had eventually gone, imagining the scenario where Robert was finally honest with someone. He’d never intended on asking it aloud.

“Is it?” Aaron queried, and his voice quivered at the end. He sounded afraid. Afraid of Robert.

“I can’t do this.”

“You have to. Otherwise this can’t work.”

“Why not?” He knew why, it was stupid to even ask. But he needed Aaron to spell it out, needed to make sure there was no hope.

“Seriously? You can ask that?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not what I want to hear. Right now all I’ve got is what other people have told me. I want to know your version. It’s the only one I’m interested in.”

He was so good. Robert was alarmed by it, how pure he was, how willing he was to trust despite everything he’d been told to the contrary. Everyone had warned him off Robert, but here he was anyway, ready to listen.  

“And I’ve already told you I can’t,” he replied vehemently, and Katie’s laughter was back now, reverberating inside his head like a music box that just kept going.

Aaron slumped, the fight gone out of him. I’ve done that, Robert thought, but there was no emotion attached to the words. Just cold, numb acceptance.

“Then you’ve as good as said it’s over.”

His tongue felt thick and swollen, pressed against his teeth as he tried hard to find the words that would make this better.

“Aaron…”

“I need to know who I’m with, Robert. I’ve gone years sleeping next to strangers, never knowing if I was safe with them. I won’t feel like that again. I won’t.”

It had never occurred to him, not in the all time he’d known Aaron. It had never once crossed his mind how much of a leap of faith he’d taken in being with Robert. How much of a trust fall it had been to stay, to follow him back here. And how all of that was now cast into doubt.

“You… God, you don’t have to worry about that. I’d never-”

“But I don’t know that, that’s the problem,” Aaron cut him off, blue eyes glinting like frost. “You’ve just said you wished you’d killed her. And maybe you meant it, maybe you didn’t, but I won’t ever know because you won’t tell me.”

“What is it that you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me what happened. I want you to explain what drove you to it. All I want is to understand.”

I could make you understand. I could tell you all of it, go right back to the beginning, to when dad was still alive and when Katie was someone I thought I could love. But understanding doesn’t mean you’d stay. Understanding means you’d never see me the same.

“You’ve got no idea what I was like back then. You wouldn’t even have recognised me,” he said instead, and it felt like dipping his toe in the water, testing for sharks.

“Good. Because that means you’ve changed. It means you’re not the same person you were then. Just tell me, Robert. Please.”

I am the same person, though. He is me and I am him. I don’t like him, half the time I’m too scared to even think about him, but he’s still me. He’ll always be me.

“You’re better off not knowing,” he answered, and it was so accurate it hurt. A physical pain which felt like a fist curled tight around his heart.

“I can’t just let this go.”

“I know.”

“Then what can I do? What can I say that’ll change your mind?” Aaron asked, and he was back to inching closer, lashes flickering and chapped lips glistening as he repeatedly licked them. A nervous tick, Robert thought, and wished he didn’t know such things about him.

“Nothing. You can’t say anything.”

He was waving a white flag, surrendering to inevitability. He should have seen it coming, it was naïve to assume he could keep Aaron ensconced in their happy, little bubble forever. He should have known they’d never let him keep someone so good.

“I need to get some work done,” he managed, though God knows he would never be able to finish the reports now. “There should be food in the fridge, if you want anything for lunch.”

He made his way towards the office door, disbelief chilling his bones. He needed to lock himself away, close his eyes, slip into nothingness.

“End of discussion, then?” he heard Aaron call, and he stopped in the doorway, hand gripping the wooden frame.

“Yeah. End of discussion.”

***

He had never realized how much like a prison cell the box room seemed until the door was firmly shut behind him. The tiny window above the desk showed only dark skies and tangled oak branches, nothing that could keep him distracted for more than a few seconds. He spent the best part of an hour hunched in the swivel chair, forehead pressed against the closed lid of his laptop, praying for his mind to shut down and for his body to follow suit. Then the front door had slammed, and the finality of it had sent him into a spiral from which there was no escape.

So he’d worked instead. Ignored the confirmation of Aaron’s departure by burying himself in so much work that he couldn’t see straight. He hammered his fingers against the keyboard, smashed out page after page of business jargon that was so convoluted he almost rolled his eyes. But Oliver would love it, and that determination to have even one thing go right for him today drove him forwards.

By the time he had all three reports done, it was gone eight in the evening, his stomach was growling with hunger, and the village had disappeared into darkness. He sent off an email to Oliver, three apologetic paragraphs with the reports attached, and then braced himself for the sight of a cold and empty flat and opened the door.

“Done avoiding me, then?”

Aaron was sat at the kitchen counter, flicking through his phone, and Robert backed into the doorframe so hard he felt the wooden edge leave a dent in his spine.

“I heard you leave,” he replied incredulously, unable to do much more than stare and wonder if he had finally cracked.

Aaron looked up then, but only for a moment, before returning to his phone. “I did. Went for a walk to clear my head. Then I grabbed some lunch from Bob’s. Then I came back here.”

“Why?”

“I live here, don’t I?”

Not anymore, Robert thought, but he didn’t dare say it in case Aaron suddenly agreed.

“Yeah. But-”

“I thought about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve already had mum pecking my head saying I should just stay with her. Not like I’m short on other offers.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but Aaron still wasn’t making any movement to leave, and Robert wanted to focus on that.

“But my scintillating conversation is too good to resist?” he tried, offering up a hesitant smile which Aaron met with a look of admonishment.

“More like: I’m a glutton for punishment and too stubborn by halves,” he corrected, and Robert refrained from nodding at the accuracy of such a statement.

“Not giving up, then?”

Aaron finally put his phone down before he focused his gaze on Robert. “No. Not until you’ve told me your side.”

“Aaron-”

“I’m not leaving till you do.”

“Then surely it’s in my best interests not to tell you?” Robert countered and Aaron smiled, surprised at having been so easily trapped in his own words. He felt the pain in his chest ease a little.

“I need to know. Especially when I’m going to have every villager poking their nose in, telling me what a nutter you are and that I should steer clear. How am I supposed to ignore them when I don’t know if they’re wrong?”

“I’m not… a nutter,” he said, already making a list of villagers who would disagree with him on that score.

Aaron sighed. “Then what are you? Someone with a grudge? Someone who just can’t stand his family? Someone who really likes threatening women?”

“God, you make me sound like a psychopath!” Robert exclaimed, feeling very vulnerable under Aaron’s gaze.

“No, everyone else has made you sound like that. I’m over here still waiting for you to prove them wrong. Only you’ve decided the silent treatment is a better option.”

Except he wasn’t giving Aaron the silent treatment. He was protecting him. Protecting him from Robert.

“Why do we have to rake over it?” he asked wearily. “Why can’t you just trust me when I say it’s not as simple as everyone’s made it out to be?”

“Because you haven’t shown me anything that backs that up!”

“You shouldn’t need proof, Aaron, you should just trust me!” he exclaimed, even though he knew how ridiculous that sounded. As if anyone would trust him.

“What, like you trust me?”

Robert’s brain juddered to a halt, stuttering over Aaron’s words. What the Hell was that supposed to mean?

“I… I do,” he said, voice wavering as he furrowed his brows in confusion.

“No, you don’t!” Aaron bit back, cheeks flushed with anger. “It doesn’t matter what I say, you still keep me at arms length, never letting me in. That’s not what couples do, Robert!”

Couples. Couples. Couples. Couples. Couples. Couples.

“Say that again?”

It was Aaron’s turn to look confused, the anger in his eyes fading. “What?”

“You said we were a couple,” Robert explained, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

“No, I didn’t.” Except he didn’t sound sure, gaze flitting from Robert to the floor, head ducked low.

“Yes, Aaron, you did,” Robert pushed firmly. “Just now.”

He watched Aaron continue to squirm in front of him, shoulders hunched forwards, shrinking further into himself, like he wanted the world to swallow him whole. His heart felt heavy and swollen, thudding against his ribcage.

“Well… is that wrong?” Aaron murmured almost inaudibly. “I mean, isn’t that what we are?”

No. It was automatic, the rejection coursing through his veins, screaming inside his head. They weren’t a couple. They were just… them.

“Forget about it,” Aaron muttered, turning his face to the side as he stepped back into the shadows nearer to the door. Robert stepped forwards, hand outstretched.

“Aaron-”

“No, no, what to do I know about any of this?” he said, voice tight and strained. “Up until a few weeks ago, I was selling myself on street corners. I’ve never done this before; I don’t even know what this is. I’ve never had a proper relationship, never had anyone I could trust. What the Hell would I know about love?”

Love. Neither of them had ever said anything about love.

“What are you-”

“Let’s just leave it,” Aaron cut him off, already moving passed Robert towards the door. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Let’s just leave it for tonight, yeah?”

He couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. He was just staring blankly at the back of Aaron’s head, wondering how this had all spiralled so quickly. One minute they were rowing about Katie, and the next… He didn’t know. He had no idea what had just happened.

“Yeah. All right. We’ll leave it,” he heard himself say, forcing his feet to move as he followed Aaron through to their bedroom.

***

He was too warm and too cold, one leg stuck out from under the duvet and the other trapped beneath Aaron’s feet. It had to be well after midnight by now, but he couldn’t sleep. Everything Aaron had said kept fighting against his exhaustion, forcing him to relive every terrifying second of it.

How had Aaron got to this point without saying anything? How had Robert never questioned it before? And why was there a lump in his throat every time he replayed Aaron saying the word ‘love’.

He pushed his face into the pillow, biting down on the cotton material till his teeth hurt before turning back to face Aaron who was curled tightly in on himself. Robert wanted to trace his fingers along his nose, across the dip of his Cupid’s Bow, down the sharp line of his stubbled jaw. He wanted to lean in and kiss him, to show Aaron that they had no use for words when this could say so much more. But instead he stayed silent, just as he always did.

If you love me, wake up. Open your eyes and I’ll know.

It was ridiculous, he knew that. He didn’t believe in destiny or signs or the stars aligning. It was all nonsense and nothing to do with the real world. But he waited all the same, counting the seconds and watching as Aaron’s breathing remained deep and even.  

If you love me, move. Wrinkle your nose, turn your head, do anything and I’ll know.

He scanned his eyes over Aaron’s body, ready to notice even the slightest change in movement. He studied his face, his arms, the rise and fall of his shoulders. Nothing. He didn’t move a muscle.

If you love me, don’t do anything at all. Don’t move, don’t make a sound. If you love me, stay exactly as you are.

Robert held his breath, wondering if fate was about to screw him over yet again. He waited, bottom lip caught between his teeth, repeating a silent prayer which held no words, only hope. Aaron slept on, peaceful and undisturbed, and Robert let out a sigh which trembled in his throat.

You love me, he thought, and only wished it were true.

Chapter Text

They’d forgotten to shut the curtains. Aaron’s thoughts had been rattling too hard against his skull and Robert… well, God knows what Robert had been thinking. So they’d slid under the covers, as far from each other as they could, and screwed their eyes tight shut until eventually unconsciousness claimed them.

Now, though, strips of white sunlight had bleached warm lines across their bed, tingling against the bare skin of Aaron’s forearm and blinding him as he prised his eyelashes apart. There was no familiarly solid presence at his back, and while he hated the idea of finding the bed empty, he turned all the same.

But Robert was asleep beside him. Well… not beside him: he was perched on the very edge of the bed, face half-pushed into the pillow, hair flattened against his forehead. He looked uncomfortable, his shoulders almost touching his ears and a deep line between his eyebrows as he glared, closed-eyed, at the space between them, as if he hated the distance even while he dreamt. A streak of sunlight lit up his face, the freckles scattered across his cheeks now a burnished bronze, and the tips of his eyelashes molten gold. Aaron had thought it before, and the same notion came to mind now as his gaze slid across Robert’s face: a fallen angel.

But then, that’s what the Devil was, as well. Aaron could vaguely remember one of his teachers, waspish and frothing at the mouth, telling the wide-eyed children in her charge about God’s son, who had rebelled against his father and was then cast to Earth as punishment.

And now he’s lying next to me, Aaron thought absent-mindedly, finger stroking the sleep-warm sheet, the cotton soft against his hardened skin. Robert’s breath came in hushed gusts that tickled Aaron’s cheeks, pink lips parted almost petulantly. He looked so much younger when he was asleep, stripped of his defences. But there was also something lost about him, like his dreams had lured not just his mind into another world, but a part of his soul as well. The idea struck him hard and Aaron shifted closer, reassured by the warmth radiating off of Robert’s skin that he was, indeed, still there, still present.

He was vaguely aware of a low buzzing sound coming from somewhere in the room and he tore his gaze from Robert’s sleeping form to twist round, scanning the bedside table and chest of drawers for his phone. The vibrations had stopped but Aaron could see the flashing notification light blinking at him from the pocket of his balled-up jeans. He groaned quietly, reluctant to leave the folds of duvet wrapped tightly around him, before stretching across the carpet to grab his mobile, legs determinedly staying put under the covers.

Marlon’s putting on a spread at the pub. Fancy popping round at 12?

He sighed, pressing the phone to his forehead before almost dropping it when it buzzed again.

Or whenever suits. Let me know xx

She was trying. He knew that, said it to himself even as his skin prickled with irritation. She’s your mum, and she’s trying to make amends. Except her efforts were entirely unwelcome at the moment, considering the unfinished argument still brewing with Robert. And ‘putting on a spread’ had an ominous meaning which suggested lunch wasn’t just being prepared for the two of them. He had a flashing image of the entire Dingle clan, all 900 of them, looming down on him as they had done when he was small. Even then he’d felt intimidated by them, and that was before he had anything to hide. They’d see right through him in a heartbeat.

Sorry, something came up. Can we do it another day?

He watched the cursor pulsate in time with his heartbeat, and then deleted the message.

See you soon.

He sent it off before he could change his mind. It would do him some good to be away from Robert, away from the reminder of what he’d done, or wanted to do. She’s a vindictive little bitch and I wish to God I’d gone through with it when I had the chance. That’s what he’d yelled at Aaron, fury straining against his tightly-held composure like a dog pulling at its lead. He’d been so close to losing it, a red flush crawling up his neck, eyes bulging, teeth bared as if ready to bite. And it reminded him so much of those other men, the ones who hated what they were, who took out their anger on Aaron because he was there and couldn’t fight back. They had pummeled the loathing from their veins till their knuckles bloomed indigo, until there was no feeling left in his jaw and just the taste of warm metal dripping down his throat.

Robert’s not like that, he thought instinctively, eyes drifting back across the bed. But there was the fragment of something embedded deep into his subconscious, a thought which had his belief faltering. He’s not like that, he said to himself again, but it sounded less sure than before, and now he felt the question mark on his tongue, sharp and determined. Is he?

The shower was calling his name and he padded across to the door, fingers curling around the cold handle as his gaze drifted back to Robert. The duvet had slid down during the night and his back was almost entirely exposed, the dips and ridges of his spine like a stone skipping across water. Aaron wanted to taste the warmth of his skin on his lips, slide his tongue into the dimples puncturing his lower back, close off the part of him which questioned their life by burying himself in Robert’s touch. He felt as if his anchor had been ripped from the seabed and now he was just floating, dragged along by unforgiving currents that pulled him further and further from the shore. Untethered, that’s what he was. And it scared him, because that feeling had been his closest companion at one point, and he’d just about convinced himself that he’d never need to feel it again.

That’s what you get for hoping, he thought before he slipped out into the freezing hallway, a shiver ghosting up his arms.

***

The guilt he felt at leaving Robert still asleep was only muted by his terror at coming face-to-face with at least one member of his estranged family. The treck up to the pub was somehow shorter than he remembered, the Woolpack coming into view much sooner than he had anticipated. Despite the frosted air making his breath whirl upwards like steam, the back of his head was almost uncomfortably warm from the sunshine slanting down on him. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and rubbed his frozen, dripping nose on his shoulder before stepping inside the warmth of the inner door. He smoothed out his hair, a sheen of gel sticking to his palm, and gave one final, shaky breath before stepping properly inside.

WELCOME HOME!

The banner hung lopsided across the back wall of the pub, the painted letters slapdash and dripping down the off-white sheet. His mother was pinning balloons to the bar, her mouth full of tacs which she proceeded to spill onto the floor when he entered.

“You’re early!” she exclaimed before glancing behind her as something clattered in the kitchen. Aaron felt his stomach drop and fixed her with a questioning stare.

“What’s all this?” he asked, now taking in the streamers and buffet complete with a cake which had his smiling, six-year-old face on top. He resisted the urge to be sick.

Chas picked up the scattered pins and dropped them back into the box before stepping closer. “I know you said you didn’t want a fuss-”

“Yeah, I did,” he cut in, every syllable ground out as if it was an effort just to breathe. He needed to stay calm, even if he would quite happily have taken a baseball bat to every confetti-laden surface.

She gave a guilty whine before taking her warm hand in his cold one. “Come on, love. I’m just happy your home. Can’t I be happy?”

He pulled away from her. “Happy’s fine, but not this. I never wanted this.”

“But everyone’s dead chuffed you’re back. All they want is to come say hello, and it’s a bit late to cancel now. Surely you want to see them all again? Proper catch up?”

Except catching up meant questions. Questions he didn’t know how to answer. Where have you been? Why didn’t you come home sooner? What have you been doing all these years? What happened with your dad? How did you end up staying with Robert Sugden? You got a girlfriend, then?

And what would he do when they had him surrounded, all of them impatient to know more about his past, and somehow feeling entitled to any information at all about his personal life. He was seething already and they hadn’t even arrived, so he turned it all on his mum.

“I told you I didn’t want to do this. Not yet. I said I’d meet Marlon, but no one else. And you said that was fine. Just yesterday you said that was all right. And now I come over to a bloody party?” he hissed, throat aching as he pushed down the fear. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be here for this.

She obviously sensed his panic because her fingers encircled his wrist, dark eyes suddenly determined. “They just want to see you. That’s all, just to say hello. See how you are.”

And how am I? he thought bitterly, his life flickering before his eyes like an old-fashioned reel of film. He tugged his hand free again but stopped short of taking a step backwards towards the door, the guilt jabbing him between the ribs as he saw her face fall.

“You should have told me,” he said quietly, fingers curling into the sleeves of his hoodie.

“I know. I just didn’t want you not to come. They really are excited to see you. You were still a kid last time you were here.”

He sighed, dipping his chin into the thick folds of his hoodie, mouth pressed against the cold zip as he let out a sigh. It wasn’t as though he had much of a choice. They’d be arriving any minute, and it wasn’t like he was in any hurry to get back to Robert. Not when he knew what would be waiting for him; more of the same weighted silence which said far more than was likely intended. Not to mention the memory of Robert’s stunned face when Aaron had dropped the word ‘love’ into the conversation. That wasn’t something he wanted to relive in a hurry.

“Suppose I should help you put these balloons up, then… since I’m stopping.” He gave her a smile, a smile that said I’m trying, but go easy. And she grinned back, no doubt having registered the first part and let the latter pass her by entirely. She’d never been very good at reading him.

He helped pick up the pins and grabbed an armful of blown-up balloons, working his way along the front of the bar in silence. He could sense her watching him but he didn’t look up, not wanting to hear whatever question was poised on her tongue. In fact, he was so determined not to meet her gaze that he didn’t even notice the lanky beanpole stood next to the wall of spirit bottles, feet shuffling restlessly.

“Hiya.”

Aaron’s head shot up, startled to have someone standing not three feet faway without him realising, and then even more startled when his eyes kept having to slide upwards. Still ridiculously tall, then, he thought, his gaze finally halting on Marlon’s nervously cheerful face.

“Hi,” he answered gruffly, pushing the final pin into the wood before taking a necessary step back so he didn’t have to crane his neck. Marlon was glancing between him and Chas, who was giving them both an encouraging smile as if to say: go on.

Marlon gave one final, panicked look towards her before clearing his throat. “It’s… it’s good to see you,” he admitted awkwardly, offering a genuine smile which Aaron could only nod at.

“Thanks. It’s good being back.” It wasn’t. But being here was better than the alternative... any of the alternatives. Still, the lie sat heavily in his stomach and he wondered whether Marlon could see through him. What hope did he have of convincing the rest of the Dingles if he couldn’t even lie to the most gullible member of the family?

Marlon nodded eagerly, gaze flicking over Aaron’s shoulder for a second before focusing back on him. “And Chas says you’re staying a while?”

He could almost sense his mother mouthing something from behind him and he gritted his teeth, wishing he had left when he had the chance. This was bloody excruciating.

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I think so. No fixed plans.”

“Right. Good. That’s… good.”

Aaron rolled his eyes at Marlon’s evident unease and then went over to the array of food piled high on the table that stretched along the centre of the room. He deliberately avoided looking at the cake with his boyish face grinning back at him. Why couldn’t she have just got him a normal fucking cake from Tesco’s?

“Would it have killed you to hug him?” he heard Chas hiss and Aaron focused his full attention on straightening the stack of paper plates. Marlon sputtered and then sighed before his footsteps retreated, no doubt back into the safety of the kitchen.

“Sorry about him, love. He’s never been all that good with new people.”

New people. Charming, he thought, still refusing to turn around. He just gave the briefest of nods to acknowledge he’d actually heard her.

“No… no, I didn’t mean new people. Well, you know what I meant,” she stammered, before clapping her hands together and making Aaron almost jump out of his skin. “Right, why don’t I get you a pint, eh? Start off the celebrations!”

He followed her over to the bar, elbows rested on the polished, wooden counter as he watched her fill a glass with the frothing, amber liquid. He accepted it without thanks, somehow feeling it was the least she owed him considering he’d basically been trapped into his own, worst nightmare. He swallowed a generous mouthful, licking the foam from his upper lip and set it down on the coaster she had placed in front of him.

The first flakes of snow were falling outside, clinging to the window frame before being tugged off again by the wind. Aaron watched them for a moment before he felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of his head and he turned, raising his eyebrow at Chas questioningly.

“I still can’t believe you’re here, you know,” she said softly, the corners of her mouth quirked upwards into a quivering smile. For a second he was terrified she was about to start crying and he stood a little straighter, eyes skidding to a halt on the kitchen door, pleading with Marlon to somehow sense that his mum needed comforting. The clattering inside continued, and Aaron almost growled. Bloody useless oaf, he thought.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, hoping just hearing him speak might be enough to call off the waterworks.

She sniffed, leaning across the bar to squeeze his shoulder. “It seems like just yesterday-”

She got no further, the pub door swinging open suddenly and a crowd of people all bustling through into the warmth, shaking off the peppering of snow which was already melting from the heat inside.

Aaron felt his mouth go instantly dry and he took a half-step backwards, hands falling to his sides as he waited for them to register he was there.

Lisa was the first to look up, shrugging off her winter coat and passing it to Zak who was busy shaking droplets of water from his threadbare cap. Her face was as warm and kind as he remembered, her hair still wild and coarse if greyer than before. She gave a small gasp before clutching at Zak’s arm, her open mouth suddenly splitting into a wide smile.

“Oh, Zak. Look!” she exclaimed gently, and now Aaron felt his legs buckle a little, because they were all suddenly staring at him – Zak, Lisa, Belle, Sam… and behind all of them, Cain.

“Well, come here, then,” Lisa said, laughing breathlessly as she beckoned him forwards. He did as he was told, still not entirely sure if he could properly stand without the support of the bar to keep him upright, but was soon enveloped in her strong, warm arms. He rested his chin on her shoulder and hesitantly brought his own arms around her. When they pulled back, he could feel his mouth tugging into a relieved smile.

“Right, don’t smother the lad,” came Zak’s gruff voice from behind her and she stepped aside to let him in. Aaron bit the inside of his cheek, wondering what response he’d get from the Head of the Dingle family.

“All right, son?” he asked, and Aaron nodded just before Zak’s hand clapped him hard on the shoulder, almost knocking him off balance. “Glad to hear it.  Right, well, I better do the honours, hadn’t I? Belle?”

Zak twisted back round to where his daughter was standing awkwardly to one side, but now she came forwards, blonde ponytail swinging behind her as she moved.

“Hi Belle,” Aaron said quietly, still marvelling at how much she’d grown. God, where had that little girl gone?

“Hi… Aaron. Good to see you,” she replied, and he smiled, relieved to find her voice hadn’t altered as much as her appearance. It was something at least. Something which didn’t remind him of how much time had passed without him being here to see the changes.

“Yeah, and you.”

“Remember me?” Sam was suddenly beside her, lopsided grin just as familiar as ever as he towered over them all.

“Course, Sammy. You all right?”

“Yeah, good, thanks. Couldn’t believe it when our Chas said you were back. Thought you were gone for good, we all did.”

“No, we didn’t!” Chas piped in, already moving round the bar as if gearing up to throw Sam out. Aaron tried not to dig his nails into the stiff fabric of his jeans.

“Yeah, thought it was about time I came back,” he said weakly, wondering again why he hadn’t made a run for it when he had the chance. Now he was well and truly stuck.

“What, and it only dawned on you now that it might be an idea to show your face?”

Aaron had almost forgotten Cain was there, but now their eyes locked and he shrunk into himself a little more.

“Cain,” Zak warned, a low growl which emanated from the base of his throat.

“He needs telling,” his uncle continued firmly, staring Zak down before fixing Aaron with the same withering glare. “You didn’t think about maybe picking up the phone, telling your mum to stop worrying herself sick? What have you been doing for the past ten years that meant you couldn’t once come and see her?”

The guilt was only marginally less acute than the anger burning like a solar flare in his chest. He didn’t deserve this. None of it. He wasn’t the one who’d upped and left first chance he’d got, abandoning an eight-year old boy to-

“I don’t have to take this,” he muttered, zipping his hoodie back up and shouldering past Cain towards the door. That was until his wrist was ensnared in his uncle’s grip, refusing to let him get any further.

“You’re going nowhere, sunshine,” Cain said, curling his fingers just a little tighter to show he was being serious. Aaron was about to take a swing at him when Chas suddenly stood between them, ripping Aaron free from her brother’s grasp.

“That is enough,” she shouted, coming to stand in front of Aaron like… like she was defending him. “Don’t you dare turn that round on him. We’ve already talked about this, Cain, and you promised me you’d leave it. This was supposed to be a nice, family get-together and I won’t have you spoiling that."

Cain gave Aaron another accusatory look, as if to say: See what you’ve done now? You’ve made her angry with me! Aaron refrained from smiling smugly at him, knowing full well that that would likely result in a fist fight, and one he wasn’t sure he’d win.

“Chas is right,” Lisa said gently, coming to lay a hand on Cain’s arm. “We’re all here to see Aaron, not start any rows. Now, why don’t we go get some food and we can all have a sit down.”

They all made their way over to the widest booth behind the buffet table where Aaron was immediately sandwiched in between Sam and Belle. The latter gave him a few shy smiles before quickly going back to her phone, and Aaron almost wished he had the excuse of being a teenager as well so he could do the same. Instead, he turned to his right and racked his brain for anything that could start off a less awkward conversation.

“How’s… Samson doing?” he asked as Lisa and Chas were busy piling on food to various plates before passing them along the semi-circle of Dingles. Aaron thanked Zak when he placed one in front of him on the table, despite knowing his stomach was far too knotted to even contemplate eating.

“He’s great, thanks,” Sam said cheerfully, already stuffing a strange smelling vol au vent into his mouth. “He’s at school right now. Goes everyday an’ all, much brighter than me.”

“Yeah, like that’d be hard,” Cain muttered into his pint and received a smack across the head from Lisa. He took it without complaint, and Aaron wondered if he’d have been so forgiving if it had been Aaron delivering the blow. Probably not.

“Good. Glad he’s doing well. And Alice?” he continued, picking at a stray thread unravelling from his sleeve. He only looked up when he realised the entire table had gone silent. Sam wasn’t look at him now, gaze lowered towards his lap as his hands clasped and unclasped under the table.

“Oh. Erm… she’s… well, she’s not… here anymore,” he stammered, and Aaron realised he’d massively put his foot in it. How could anyone have left Sam, lease of all Alice? As far as he could remember, she’d been one of the kindest people he’d ever met.

“Oh. Sorry, Sammy,” he mumbled, now turning back to the rest of the family, knowing the discussion was well and truly closed.

Lisa reached across and gently tapped him on the arm. He brought his eyes up to meet hers and found her giving him a sad, sympathetic look. “Alice died, love. Cancer,” she whispered, though no doubt Sam heard every word. Aaron felt his stomach freefall and his mouth dropped open, unable to take in the news.

“Shit. God, I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, well, if you’d bothered to pick up a phone, you might have found out,” Cain cut him off, and Aaron was too stunned to say anything back. He was right, in any case. If he’d come back sooner, if he’d known…

“Knock it off, Cain. I’m serious,” Chas snarled, coming to sit beside him where she gave his arm a good jab with her pointed elbow. Aaron kept his head down, suddenly feeling like a complete outsider with Sam now distancing himself from everyone and Belle still lost in the bright screen of her phone. God, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He’d happily take Robert’s stonewalling a million times over if it meant leaving this car crash of a gathering behind him. Hell, he’d even take Ronnie kicking the shit into him over this.

“Are we expecting anyone else?” Lisa asked eventually, evidently deciding that the silence had gone on long enough.

Chas wiped a few crumbs from the corner of her mouth and nodded. “Charity said she’d pop round if she could.”

Charity. He’d heard her name in passing when he was younger, had possibly even met her on one occasion if he thought back far enough. All he could truly remember was that no one ever seemed to have a good word to say about her.

“What about Del?” he asked, his memories of his last visit to the village suddenly springing back on him with startling clarity. Chas gave a sharp laugh and shook her head.

“God, I keep forgetting how long it’s been! No, she left a while back. Sloped off with £20,000 in her back pocket, living it up in America now.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows at that, but ultimately he was glad. She’d been good to him, listened when his mum had been too busy thinking about herself and that boyfriend of hers. At least she’d chucked him in.

“And grandad? Thought he’d be the first one through the door. Never one to pass up a proper Dingle gathering, not when free booze is involved,” he said, thinking one small joke might lighten the mood a fraction.

Chas blanched, as did Zak and Lisa, and he knew. He didn’t need them to say it.

“No…”

“God, Aaron, I’m sorry,” his mum said, slightly breathless. “I didn’t… I’m sorry. I should have told you before.”

Cain scoffed. “How could you have? He’s not been here.”

“Can you lay off for five seconds!” Aaron snapped before turning back to his mum. “How?”

“How do you think?” his uncle answered for her. “Daft bastard dropped his beers in the river and decided to go in after them.”

Aaron felt blood rush to his head and he gripped the cushioned seat hard, wondering if he was about to pass out or be sick.

“When?” he murmured, staring intently at his plate of food and ignoring the static fizzling inside his head.

“It’ll be six years ago now,” Chas said quietly, reaching under the table to squeeze his hand. He wanted to pull away but didn’t. He wasn’t about to start yet another row. And anyway, her touch was about the only thing keeping him from bolting for the door.

He swallowed hard, let his eyes flutter shut for a moment, and then nodded. Acceptance numbed him right to the bone, and it almost worried him how little he actually felt about the knowledge that his grandfather was dead. It had been too long, the gap between then and now too great. He didn’t feel a connection to that time anymore. It was like another world.

“He’d be glad to know you came home, son,” Zak said, his voice warm and thick like treacle. He wasn’t sure if it was just a dream he’d had, but there was some faint, faded memory tucked away in the back of his mind which sounded a lot like Zak reading him a bedtime story. Out of the egg came a tiny and very hungry caterpillar. He started to look for some food. On Monday, he ate through one apple but he was still hungry...

“Thanks,” he mumbled, picking at a few of the crisps bordering his plate. He knew they were looking at him, knew all of them were searching for something to say which would make up for the revelation that one of his closest relatives was dead and no one had bothered to tell him. And he hadn’t bothered to ask before now. What kind of a grandson did that make him?

The rest of the lunch, such as it was, passed slowly and with only the barest amount of conversation. Sam excused himself as soon as he was finished his food, saying he was needed back up at Home Farm, and didn’t even say goodbye to Aaron, not that he blamed him. Zak and Lisa asked a series of vague, open-ended questions about what he’d got up to over the past few years, and his answers had been equally as unspecific.

“Nothing much. Went travelling for a bit,” he improvised, then almost kicked himself because, naturally, the next question was: Oh, whereabouts did you go? He had no answer, so quickly made up a lie about visiting a mate in France and getting some work out there. Belle asked if he knew any French and he immediately replied that he didn’t, which seemed to disappoint her for all of about two seconds before she went back to texting.

Thankfully, no one brought up Robert. He wondered whether Chas had even told them about his living arrangements, or if they were under the impression he was staying at the pub. Whatever their reason, he wasn’t complaining. It was one less lie he’d have to tell.

He offered to clear up, mainly so he could get a bit of space, and quickly hurried through to the kitchen where Marlon was flitting around like a moth against a lightbulb.

“Everything okay?” he asked when the door swung shut behind Aaron.

“Fine, yeah. Just… catching up.”

Marlon nodded, watching as Aaron placed the empty glasses next to the sink. “Must be a bit much, after all this time.”

“Yeah. A bit,” he admitted, feeling it was a safe enough response.

Marlon’s big, watery eyes turned understanding. “Don’t let Cain give you a hard time. He’s all talk, mostly. And Chas’ll soon sort him.”

“So he’s been having a go about me to you, too?” Aaron asked, leaning back against the cold, metal counter and folding his arms across his chest. Of course Cain had been talking about him behind his back. The man didn’t know when to let it go.

“It’s Cain. He’s never happier than when he’s mouthing off about someone. Chances are it’ll all be water under the bridge in a few days.”

Aaron doubted that very much. He was fairly certain his uncle could hold a grudge better than anyone. “Great. Looking forward to it.”

Marlon smiled, taking a roll of cling-film out of its box and unwinding a long, filmy sheet before wrapping it around a creamy, foul-smelling dish.

“We’re all really glad to have you home,” he said as he tore off another section to place on top of another, equally disgusting looking meal. “Your mum especially. You should have seen her this morning. Couldn’t stop smiling.”

It made his gut twist and he looked down, unable to even acknowledge what Marlon had said.

“I should probably get back,” he muttered, already moving back towards the door. Marlon nodded, balancing the two dishes in his hands.

“Yeah, you go on. I’ll come out in a minute, just need to put all this in the freezer first. Can’t have my seafood hotch-potch ruined!”

Aaron forced himself not to grimace. “Suppose not.”

He gave one last nod to Marlon before he went back through to the bar where Lisa and Zak were chatting with Belle and Cain was getting an earful from Chas. Aaron hung back, waiting for them to finish, before he cleared his throat.

“All right, love? You didn’t have to clear everything away yourself,” she said, too cheerful even for her. He shrugged.

“It’s fine. Least I could do.”

She nodded, glancing back over to her brother before she gestured towards the kitchen. “I’ll just… see how Marlon’s getting on,” she said before hurrying off. Aaron rolled his eyes to the ceiling and then headed in the direction of Cain, who his mum evidently wanted him to make peace with.

“Your mum’s had a word. Says I should apologise,” Cain said first, though he was staring down at his pint as if Aaron wasn’t even there. He almost rolled his eyes again.

“Right. Go on, then,” he said, voice clipped and impatient. If his uncle wasn’t going to make this easy, then neither was he. Two could play at that game.

Cain looked up, dark eyes wide with something akin to surprise, before he smirked. “Still a cheeky little sod, aren’t you?”

“Least I’m not a psycho,” Aaron retorted, though less audibly than before. He wasn’t that brave.

“What was that?” Cain asked, and the surprise was gone, replaced with something that now bordered on fury.

“Think you heard.”

He stared for a moment longer than Aaron thought he could bear, the beat of his pulse rapidly increasing with every silent second. But then he let out a short, bemused laugh and swallowed the remaining quarter of his pint before slamming it back down on the counter. Aaron couldn’t help but flinch.

“Tell you what, kid, you’ve got one Hell of a mouth on you. No one could say you’re not a Dingle.”

“Pretty sure you were saying that not ten minutes ago.”

Cain shook his head. “Nah. Might not like that you went AWOL, but you’re still one of us. Can’t do a runner on your family. Not for long, anyway.”

It sounded like he was speaking from experience, and Aaron had the sudden urge to ask him about his life, about all the times he’d fucked up and how he’d managed to put them right. Maybe he could get some pointers.

“Still not hearing you saying you’re sorry,” he said instead. He’d had more than enough awkward, intrusive conversations today as it was. That one could wait till later, preferably when he had had more than just one pint inside him.

“Not likely to, either. But we won’t tell our Chas that, eh?”

Aaron furrowed his brows, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And I’m doing you a favour because…?”

“Because I’m gonna be paying you your wages from now on, so I think I’ve earned this little, white lie.”

Wages? When the Hell had they started talking about wages?

“What you on about?”

Cain sighed, picking at the corner of the sodden coaster underneath his pint glass, before giving Aaron an exasperated look. “Debbie’s off with the kids in France, so you’re going to be stepping in at the garage. Unless you’ve already got a job, that is?”

A mechanic? He didn’t know a thing about cars. He didn’t know a thing about… anything. Unless it was sex. He knew far too much about sex. Not that he intended on telling his uncle that. He hardly thought it would be a wise move to put that under Skillset on his CV.

“No. I don’t,” he answered warily, still wondering where the catch was. Or the hidden cameras.

“Didn’t think so. Right, then, tomorrow suit you?”

“What?”

“Good,” Cain carried on, slipping off the bar stool and pushing his wallet into the back pocket of his trousers. “Come by at nine and I’ll show you the ropes. Not that you’ll be doing much more than making a brew for the first couple of weeks. Can’t be letting you loose on the cars until I know you won’t cut the brake cables by accident.”

“I haven’t said yes, yet,” Aaron reminded him as he was heading towards the door.

“Then you better hurry up, unless you fancy staying skint.”

It was strange. Money had always been the only thing he cared about, in the sense that it was the only thing keeping him from starving. But living with Robert, he’d stopped focusing his every waking second on making enough to survive on. It might be nice, though, to be able to pay his own way a bit, not have to rely on Robert so much for handouts. And it wasn’t like it would be the worst job he’d ever done. Not by a long shot.

“Suppose you’re right,” he admitted, still somewhat reluctantly.

Cain flashed him a sharp smirk. “That’s the spirit. And don’t say I’m not good to you.”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh, but it came easier to him, his chest no longer feeling like a bloody great boulder had landed on it. “Oh, yeah, you’re all heart,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

Cain’s expression hardened, but there was still the glint of amusement in his eyes, and it was the only thing that stopped Aaron from running in the opposite direction.

“That’s one thing that’ll have to stop now. No way are you giving me lip while I’m at work. Just remember I’m your boss. Got that?”

Aaron bit back a smile and nodded instead. “Yeah.”

“Yes, what?”

Are you serious? he wanted to say, but didn’t. Because he knew Cain was. “Yes… boss,” he replied through gritted teeth and his uncle grinned triumphantly, shrugging on his jacket.

“Good lad. Least you’re a fast learner,” he said, then gave a nod of farewell to him before saying goodbye to Zak, Lisa and Belle. Aaron smiled, watching Cain through the window as he pulled up the collar of his coat against the flurry of snow circling around him.

Well, that’s progress of sorts, he thought, before he came round to the other side of the bar to join his family.

Chapter Text

There was sunlight on his face and a chill creeping up his bare back when he finally mustered up enough energy to wake fully. His face was pressed into a pillow that smelled of skin and sweat and home, arms splayed out across the warm mattress, hair in is eyes that tickled his skin and had him brushing it away with a slow, heavy hand. The room was too quiet, he thought, his own muffled breaths amplified against the deafening hush.

Aaron was gone, he didn’t need to open his eyes to know that, and he pushed his nose further into the pillow, chasing the last remnants of Aaron’s scent which still clung to the cotton. He inhaled deeply till his lungs were bursting before he pushed himself up onto his knees, the duvet slipping from around his waist and pooling about his feet.

The whole room was bathed in gold, the white walls stained multi-coloured where the sunlight refracted through the half-empty glass of water on the bedside table. He watched the rainbow shimmer for a moment before rubbing a hand over his eyes. He was knackered, even though he was fairly certain it was already approaching early afternoon. He’d barely got to sleep the night before, clawing his way out of dreams that felt like he was falling, only to be sucker punched by the sight of Aaron’s rigid body as far from him as possible. Just one nightmare after another, he remembered thinking at the time, barely lucid as he stared into the darkness and waited for another wave of exhaustion to take hold.

His stomach gave a low whine of hunger and he sighed, sliding off the bed and padding through to the kitchen to fix himself breakfast. Late breakfast, he corrected as his eyes grazed over the time on the cooker – 12:37. Fuck, he had never slept in this late, not since he was a sleep-deprived loner with a tendency to replace eight hours of sweet, uninterrupted unconsciousness with copious amounts of spirits.

The cornflakes, which had been bought mainly for Aaron who was apparently sick of eating Robert’s granary bread, tasted like ash in his mouth and he barely swallowed a few mouthfuls before he had to push the bowl away. He downed an entire cup of black coffee like it was the only thing between him and an early grave, revelling in the shiver of caffeine which went straight through his system, taking the edge off his exhaustion at least enough for him to stand without the whole room swaying in front of him. He rinsed out his bowl, placed it on the rack to dry, and then went back through to the bedroom. It smelled of them, rather than just him, and he couldn’t help but linger in the doorway just taking it in. Aaron’s t-shirt was hanging on one of the dresser handles, ratty and torn but soft from years of wear. He wore it to bed most nights unless he was sleeping naked, and Robert knew it was one of the few items of clothing he felt utterly comfortable in. Sometimes Robert forgot just how tense Aaron was all the time; he’d gotten so used to the hard lines of his body that he almost did a double take whenever Aaron actually relaxed. He hated himself for that, for forgetting when Aaron couldn’t. It made him want to try harder, to be better, and that was a foreign concept for Robert who had long since given up trying for anyone else.

The wardrobe doors were open and he ran a hand over his row of shirts, pulling out a pale blue one which he’d noticed made Aaron’s eyes crease at the edges and his mouth flicker into a smile. There was an empty hanger at the end of the rail where a black hoodie should have been and Robert stared at it for a good ten seconds, wishing it didn’t hurt as much as it did to have another reminder that Aaron was gone. For now, he wanted to add, but couldn’t bring himself to be that optimistic.

He could feel a thin sheen of sweat clinging to his too-warm skin and he shuffled through to the bathroom, immediately hit with the fading smell of mint and tea-tree which came from Aaron’s shower gel. Can you not give me a fucking break? he thought angrily as he slipped off his black boxers and stepped into the shower, twisting the dial to hot. It burned his back but he didn’t make any move to turn around or switch the water to a cooler setting, just let the skin redden around his shoulders and almost blister from the heat. It took another few, almost unbearable minutes before he couldn’t stand it any longer and he pressed his back into the cool tiles, sighing as the steam fogged up his senses and made it impossible to think clearly. He grabbed blindly until his fingers caught on the dripping bottle of shower gel which wasn’t his and lathered a generous amount across his torso, up his neck and along his arms. The cooling scent had his muscles easing and he stayed leaning against the back wall, eyes closed to the water and steam for a long time, just breathing it in like it was better than air. At this point, it was better than air.

By the time he’d finished, dried himself with quick, rough strokes and dressed in the blue shirt and a pair of dark, denim jeans it was almost half-one. Aaron had been gone for at least two hours and he had made no signs of returning any time soon; Robert would know, he’d checked his phone every five minutes, had even taken it into the bathroom with him while he was shaving just in case. He was fully aware that, at this stage, he was bordering on pathetic. He had never acted like this, had never openly pined for someone, had never had to fight the urge to bury his face into another person’s t-shirt just to feel a little closer to them. His behaviour was nothing short of sad and if he wasn’t so strung out with fear, he’d probably have hated himself a lot more.

As it was, he just paced up and down the length of the flat, moving from one room to another before back into the hallway, glancing at the front door as if it would magically open and reveal Aaron in a halo of light. He knew he should get some work done – Oliver had suggested in a slightly curt email that Robert take the weekend off to ‘get himself together’ and come in on Monday – and Robert knew he needed to prove himself, show he wasn’t just the young wannabe who had hit the big time too soon. He could do this job, had been doing it well for almost a year now, and he wanted Ollie and every other partner to know he was still on top form. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to go into his makeshift office. It felt like admitting defeat, like giving up. So instead he found himself throwing on his jacket, which infuriatingly smelled of Aaron as well, and left the flat.

Despite the warmth of the sun high above him, it was still bitterly cold and Robert folded his arms across his chest as he pushed himself towards the centre of the village. He could hear laughter further up the street and halted just as the road tipped upwards, watching as Zak, Lisa and Belle were all herded outside by Chas. Belle was begrudgingly carrying a balloon which was being buffeted aggressively by a sharp gust of wind, and Chas was laughing shrilly as she waved them off. He stared at her, teeth gripping the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek until eventually she disappeared back into the Woolpack. He didn’t know how he knew, but he felt a tug in his chest that signalled Aaron was close, like a string pulling taut. His feet started to move again, hesitant at first but surer as he quickened the pace, refusing to glance to his left or right as he pushed his chin into the collar of his coat. Once he’d got closer, a thin buzz of conversation could be heard from behind the closed inner-door, Chas’s squawk followed by a heavy bass line which Robert knew instinctively had to have come from Aaron. His hand was on the handle before he knew what he was doing, and the warm blast of air hit him square in the face as he stepped inside.

Aaron was sat at the bar nursing a pint, two hands wrapped around the glass and shoulders hunched up to his ears, while Chas nattered on about something as she stacked up paper plates. They both swivelled when they heard the door swing shut behind him, and Aaron’s stunned expression had him relaxing and tensing in one breath.

“What you doing here?” It was Chas speaking, coming out from behind the bar like a lioness defending her cub. Bit fucking late for that, Robert thought but didn’t dare let it show on his face. That wouldn’t have earned him any brownie points.

“Not a crime to have a drink in my local, is it?” he said, eyes on Aaron who didn’t seem to know where to look. Look at me, Robert thought and mentally slapped himself in the face. He stalked over to the bar, far enough from Aaron that he didn’t get spooked, but close enough so he could feel the warmth radiating off his arm.

Chas gave him a knowing look, and the memory of the last time he’d seen her hit him hard. She’s been standing near to where she was now, he’d had his back to the door and Katie was playing the recording for everyone to hear. He’d felt cornered then as well, too exposed and too vulnerable to fight back. No way to defend himself against the onslaught. He hoped history wasn’t about to repeat itself.

“Pint, then?” she asked sharply, back round to her side of the bar and staring him down like he should be scared. But Aaron was here and Robert wasn’t about to bolt just because Chas had unearthed her more maternal instincts.

He gave her his most charming smile, knowing it would make little difference other than to rile her further, and nodded. “Sounds good.”

Aaron had gone spiky beside him, the barriers now three-inch thick steel plates with cut glass sticking out of them and barbed-wire coiled along the top. He refused to look up, just staring at his pint and didn’t even flinch when Chas slammed a glass down in front of Robert, beer almost spilling over the top. She glared at him, safe in the knowledge her son wasn’t watching closely, and then stalked back over to the half-eaten buffet table.

“She doesn’t like me any better than before,” Robert joked, but his voice was weaker than normal and he was sure Aaron had heard the quiver to his words. He’d never felt so transparent, like all Aaron had to do was catch his eye and every one of his secrets would just come pouring out. It scared him even more to know there was a part of him that was desperate for that to happen.

“What d’you expect,” Aaron said quietly, still not lifting his gaze. Robert sighed, inching just a little closer so his arm was lined up perfectly beside Aaron’s on the bar.

“And you?” He was being careful now, keeping his voice as low as possible so only Aaron would hear. He didn’t want this particular conversation overheard by anyone, but least of all by Aaron’s personal shadow who was lurking just at the edge of his peripheral vision.

Aaron gave an imperceptible shrug and sniffed. “What about me?”

So we’re doing this the hard way, then, he thought before edging round on his stool so he could lean in a bit closer. “You still like me?”

He genuinely hadn’t meant it to come off as flirtatious, had been aiming more for something in the realms of puppy-dog, but Aaron huffed out a breath and Robert saw him trying not to break down into a smile. I’ve got you on the ropes now, Dingle.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” he replied coolly, but he looked up as he said it and Robert felt like he’d just had the air knocked out of him. God those blue eyes were lethal when Aaron was holding out on him.

Robert nodded, slightly breathless, and took a long gulp of his pint to steady himself a little. He was just tired, he thought, and the weakness in his limbs was exhaustion rather than because there was a flush creeping up Aaron’s neck that made him squirm in his seat. But even as he chanced another look to his right, he knew he was a fucking liar.

“So… you were out early this morning.”

Aaron scrunched up his eyebrows and Robert had a sudden, almost violent desire to see a photo of Aaron doing the same thing as a kid. He no doubt would have looked adorable then as well.

“Hardly,” he replied, rounding on him now. “Not my fault if you can’t get up at a normal time.”

Robert thought about telling him how badly he’d slept, how it had been almost as bad as those nights when he had to go for a drive at two in the morning, circling the streets around his flat for hours until he felt the heavy weight of exhaustion push down on him, or until he found an off-licence still open that would take his money. Instead he brushed off the comment and shifted them away from the topic of his severely sleep-deprived state of mind.

“Where’d you get to, then?”

“Here, wasn’t I? Meeting the folks,” Aaron said, having evidently not noticed the shift of topic, glancing back towards his mum who was pretending to be busy tidying the tables, even though her ears were visibly pricking up every time either one of them spoke.

Robert whistled quietly. “What, all of them? Jesus, I’m surprised they didn’t eat you alive.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“They make my lot look sane,” he retorted immediately, chancing a sly grin which Aaron returned with one of his own.

“Your lot are sane, it’s you who’s off the rails.”

He wasn’t being nasty, in fact there was no bite at all to his words, but they still sunk into Robert’s skin like they had teeth, like they were intended to draw blood. Robert brushed it aside again, hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt him that night when he found himself staring up at the ceiling.

“So this was a proper Dingle gathering?” he asked, steering them away again. “Welcome you back into the fold? I hear you’re supposed to drink from a wellie or something like that.”

Aaron snorted, giving him a sceptical look. “Pretty sure someone was having you on with that.”

“You can never really tell with the Dingles,” Robert muttered, and received a sharp jab to his rib with the edge of Aaron’s elbow. He was just glad they hadn’t lost this, that he hadn’t fucked up every part of them.

“Oi, I’m one of them now, you can’t go slagging them off.”

Robert grinned even as his heart jack-hammered. One of them. It ricocheted off his skull and he pushed down the fear for the umpteenth time that day. He could remember, suddenly and with a startling amount of clarity, his father’s advice to him when his knees had been mud-spattered and he’d been looking into the jaws of the abattoir years before.

“Drive through the fear, son,” he’d said, strong hand on his shoulder as he led him inside. He’d ran out two minutes later, sobbing, and his mum had gone ballistic when he told her later that day. His dad had apologised, but he’d done it through gritted teeth and he’d never tried to teach Robert anything to do with farming again.

“So they were all right, then?” Robert asked, veering away from the image of his father’s tight and sour face glaring at him, and softened his voice so Aaron knew he was being serious. Aaron always seemed to respond better when he adopted a gentler tone, more receptive somehow. Robert wondered when he’d realised that. He wondered when he realised a lot of things about Aaron.

“Yeah, they were fine. You’ll never guess what Cain did, though,” he replied, before launching into the shorter version of what Robert imagined was a much longer story which ended with Aaron working at the garage, starting tomorrow.

“You don’t need to work, though,” was the first thing Robert could think to say, pulse stuttering again like before.

“Course I do. Can’t keep sponging off of you forever,” he answered with a smile, not that it softened the blow any, before dipping his head a little and lowering his voice. “Plus, it might be nice to have a proper job, not like I’ve ever had that before.”

The only reason Robert didn’t push it was because Aaron looked happy. It likely wouldn’t have been all that noticeable to anyone else, but Robert saw the lightness in his expression, how open he suddenly seemed, like he wasn’t drawing into himself as much. He wanted to say: But I can look after us, just like I’ve done up until now. You don’t need Cain, you don’t need any of them. You’ve got me to look out for you. But he knew how that would sound, and he knew how Aaron would twist it, so that it came off like Robert saw him as some kind of charity-case. He didn’t want an argument like that, and especially not here, not with Chas ready to wade in at any second.

“Well… that’s great, then. Course, I can teach you a thing or two about cars. I used to be a mechanic.”

Aaron scoffed before realising Robert was serious, and eventually they were back into safer territory, Robert reeling off a list of basic facts from oil changes to fan belts, Aaron drinking it in like he thought there would be a quiz at the end. Robert wanted to kiss him then and there just for how utterly wide-eyed and adorable he looked, but that was too far beyond him. The conversation eased off eventually, the two of them draining their pints in quick succession, and Aaron zipped up his hoodie like he was ready to leave.

“Heading off?”

“Thought we might, yeah. Think I’ve had enough of family bonding for one day,” he said with a slight smirk, and Robert tried not to let himself get too caught up on the we part of that sentence. He nodded, slipping off the stool and making for the door when Aaron suddenly halted.

“All right?” he asked hesitantly, wondering how he could possibly have messed up just by standing.

Aaron was biting his lip like he was afraid to say something, and Robert braced himself for what could be about to come next. This isn’t working. We’re over. It’s not you, it’s me… No, actually, it is you.

“I thought I should say… I’m gonna leave you be from now on.”

No. No, don’t say that. Why are you leaving me? Why would you say that?

“Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” he stammered, trying to do as his father had told him all those years ago and failing miserably… just like he had all those years ago as well.

Aaron pushed his hands into the sleeves of his hoodie. “The thing… about Katie. I’m dropping it, backing off. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Thank fuck for that.

Fuck .

“Right,” he said, because his brain was short-circuiting and he didn’t quite know how to stop it.

“I just thought you should know,” Aaron said and before Robert could answer, he’d turned his back and was calling to his mum. “We’re gonna head off home.”

Robert latched onto the last word, unable to stop the torrent of thoughts pressing down on his shoulders. It’s still home for you, then? I was starting to wonder if…

Chas wheeled round, startled and then disappointed. “Oh, all right. Thought you could spend a bit longer this time, maybe stay for dinner?”

Robert’s stomach dropped a few inches before settling again as Aaron shook his head. “Not today. I’ll come by soon though, yeah?” Robert didn’t like that any better, but at least it wasn’t today. That would have to do.

Chas nodded, lips pursed but evidently not about to argue. “Okay. Text me when you’re free and we can do something. Could show you some of Hotten if you fancied it?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll let you know.”

Robert watched Aaron turn back towards him, unable to read his expression this time, before he followed him outside. The dusting of snow was already melting off the wooden tables from the white glare of the sun and Robert was glad to see the back of it, wanting to be safely ensconced in the darkness of their flat.

They kept a fairly even pace down the gentle slope passed David’s, but all the while Aaron was quiet and Robert just kept churning over what he’d said, like a thread he was desperate to pull even though he was sure it would mean everything unravelling.

“What if I’m never ready,” he said without warning, not entirely sure why he’d felt the need to actually voice that concern, or if he was even strictly talking about Katie anymore. Aaron’s footsteps faltered, the beat of his boots cutting off before starting back up again a few seconds later.

“Well… we haven’t really been plain sailing so far, have we? Why change now?” he replied, and there was a softness to his eyes which made Robert want to collapse. They had reached Mill Cottage and Aaron turned away, fishing for his keys. He pushed them into the lock and then turned back, giving a light shrug of his shoulders. “And I’m not going anywhere, so there’s that.”

He said it like it was an afterthought, like it was no big deal, like he hadn’t just handed Robert a lifebelt when his head was slipping beneath the water. He couldn’t do anything but stand, watching as the front door swung open and Aaron entered, flicking through the keys until he found the one for their flat, and Robert forced himself to move because otherwise Aaron was going to ask what was wrong, and he had no idea how to answer that question.

The flat was dark when they stepped inside, almost like it was just waiting for the two of them to start talking or fighting or kissing so it could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Robert knew the feeling.

“Aaron-”

“Thought we could get in a couple episodes of Game of Thrones if you fancy it?” Aaron said hurriedly, heeling off his trainers and kicking them into the corner of the kitchen. “Unless you have work to do?” He sounded so… normal, like everything that had been said the previous day was suddenly irrelevant, or more precisely, like it had never happened at all.

“No, I can… Yeah, sounds good,” he answered warily, going back through to hallway to unlace his shoes and place them beneath the coat rack along with the three other pairs he wore daily. His eyes glanced sharply towards the tatty, greying Nike’s still languishing in the kitchen and wondered what it would look like to have them included in the neat row of shoes by the door.

“Great, I’ll go stick it on, then.” Aaron was passed him and through to the living-room before Robert had a chance to protest, to say: Shouldn’t we talk about this? He was highly aware of the irony of the situation – yesterday it had been him avoiding the topic altogether, and now it seemed Aaron was taking up the proverbial baton.

When he followed through in his socks, toes a little numb from the cold outside, Aaron was just sticking in the next DVD before diving back onto the sofa, tucking his legs underneath him. He did that more and more, Robert had found, and it had his chest simultaneously tightening and expanding at the same time. He slid down next to him, far enough away that there was still a sizeable gap between them, but Aaron immediately shifted closer. Robert couldn’t remember feeling more grateful.

“I don’t remember which one we were… on,” Aaron said, pausing a few seconds before he suddenly pushed his freezing nose into Robert’s neck. He hissed but didn’t pull away, too surprised by the touch to do anything other than stay very still, like there was a wasp in the room.

“You used my shower gel,” Aaron eventually explained, sniffing Robert’s skin again before leaning back to give a slightly bemused look.

“That a problem?”

Aaron chewed on his bottom lip. “No. Just… you don’t smell like you,” he answered, eyes still searching Robert’s as if he was missing something. Robert dropped his gaze, heat creeping up his neck without his permission.

“Maybe I wanted to smell like you,” he admitted quietly, embarrassment colouring his cheeks even more. God, he hated himself so much.

Aaron ducked his own head before shifting forwards again, fingers fluttering just above Robert’s wrist. “That your way of saying you missed me?”

He shrugged, sharp and fast because Aaron was so close now and he felt like sheer desperation was seeping out of his pores.

Aaron huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“You,” Aaron replied immediately, mouth quirked into a half-smile. Robert wasn’t getting the joke.

“What about me?”

That elicited an eye roll. “It wouldn’t kill you, you know… to say what you actually think.”

Robert tried to smile, wanted desperately to keep it light, but he knew he was slipping back into himself, head bowed so his hair flopped forwards over his forehead.

“I’ve never been good at that,” he murmured, reminded of every time he’d held his tongue, beat down the words his brain had fought so hard to vocalise. No, he’d never been very good at saying what he thought, not when it mattered, at least.

“Well, try it now,” Aaron pushed, his thumb rubbing dizzying circles against the side of Robert’s wrist. “Go on, you had one whole morning without me – I bet you loved every second of it.” He flashed Robert a startlingly bright smile, blue eyes sparking with amusement. He looked so young.

“It was…” Hell. “I don’t know, it was…” Hell. “Hell,” he finished, exhausted.

“Now I know you’re lying.”

“I didn’t sleep the whole night,” Robert countered, slightly defensive. “Just walked round the flat this morning like a zombie. Didn’t know what to do.”

“Were you awake when I left?” Aaron asked, eyes wider now. Robert shook his head. If I’d been awake when you left, I’d have asked you not to go.

“No, think I drifted off after about six. Didn’t wake up till gone twelve.”

Aaron’s face softened, the smile returning, and Robert let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “So you really did miss me, then.”

He thought about lying, playing it down, but there didn’t seem much point, and especially not when Aaron was looking at him like that. “Yeah. I did,” he conceded, biting down on his own smile.

“Good.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “Glad about that, are you?”

“Glad you admitted it,” Aaron returned, staring him down. “Don’t know if anyone’s ever told you, but you’re not all that good at opening up.”

He ducked his head again. “Might have been mentioned before.”

“That figures,” Aaron muttered, smirking as he reached for the remote. Robert caught his arm and stopped him, sliding his gaze upwards till it rested just below Aaron’s eyes. He found he couldn’t look directly at him all of a sudden.

“I do want to tell you… about all of it.” He wasn’t sure what had prompted this sudden display of honesty. Maybe it was because they’d been avoiding talking about it, maybe it was because Aaron was being so good when Robert didn’t deserve it. Maybe he just felt too fucking tired to keep up the pretence any longer.

Aaron dropped the remote back onto the arm of the sofa. “I’ve already said, I’m backing off. You don’t have to feel like-”

“I know, but I want to tell you. I just… I know what’ll happen when I do.”

Robert watched the recognition dawn on Aaron’s face, the slow drip of realisation as his words sunk in.

“You think I’ll run,” he said, resigned, and Robert nodded, because it was true. He did think that, he knew that. Everyone always ran.

Aaron shuffled forwards till their knees bumped off each other and took Robert’s hand in his. Their fingers laced together immediately and Robert just stared down at them, Aaron’s smaller palm engulfed by Robert’s, warm skin pressed together. He struggled to remember the last time they had done this, or even if they had ever done this. Maybe Robert hadn’t wanted to because it felt too much like something a boyfriend would do. He honestly didn’t care now.

“I’m not gonna run. I promise,” Aaron said gently, squeezing a little just to add a bit of extra reassurance. Robert didn’t feel able to squeeze back.

“You can’t make that kind of promise.”

He was expecting exasperation, but instead Aaron seemed to soften even further, shoulders sloped downwards, cheeks rosy, eyes so large Robert could quite happily drown in them.

“Yes, Robert. I can.” He sounded so sure, like he’d stared into a crystal ball and was foretelling the future. Maybe he would stay. Maybe this time…

His other hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans and he retrieved his phone, ignoring Aaron’s confused stare so he could focus on flicking through his texts till he found the one he wanted.

“Katie sent me this just after I left. Said it was a parting gift, to remind me of what I’d done… what I’d lost because of it.” He remembered that night far too well, or the early part of it at least. He’d been in a crappy Premier Inn in Hotten, not having unpacked because he was still half-hoping the fuss would die down, and when he got that text… Well, there was a reason he only remembered the first part of that night.

“She sounds like a fucking nightmare,” Aaron ground out, sounding almost protective. Robert wanted to bury his face in Aaron’s chest, forget all about it, just lose himself in what they had now. He didn’t want to taint this.

“She was that day,” he answered truthfully, thumb hovering over the recording which was attached to Katie’s text. “I could play it for you… what happened that day.”

Aaron gave him a dubious look, like he wasn’t quite sure himself. One of us has to be brave, Robert thought, terrified at the prospect that it might have to be him.

“You don’t have to…”

“If I don’t, someone else will. And at least this way I get to explain my side. No one else is going to do that.”

He sounded calm, far more so than he felt, and he waited until Aaron nodded before playing the audio clip. The first few seconds were just excruciating silence, but then something crackled and fizzed and he braced himself for what was coming next.

“Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me!” His voice echoed through the speaker, followed by pounding footsteps which reverberated around the living-room. Aaron was still close, but more distant than before, eyes focused solely on the mobile in Robert’s hands.

“I’ll do what I want. And this is my property, Robert so-” Katie’s voice was cut off as as something slammed, and Robert hated the way Aaron flinched, even though he didn’t blame him. He remembered how Katie had done the same thing when his fist had almost gone straight through the wall beside her head, how her eyes had gone impossibly large, staring at him like he was insane. He had been then.

“Scared? You should be,” the voice said, the one that he knew was his even though it sounded nothing like him. It was too hollow, too cold, and it sent a shiver up his spine to hear it again. “You’ve got no idea… no idea what I could do to you if I wanted. Hear those floorboards? Hm? You know it wouldn’t take much for them to cave in.”

He’d listened to the recording so many times now, could recite it backwards if he wanted, and at some point he’d almost managed to convince himself that it was just actors on a stage rather than him and Katie. Just a string of dialogue. But now, with Aaron listening to every word, it took on a sharper and more visceral edge.

“What are you saying?” Katie asked, weaker than she’d actually been. He remembered her watching him, eyes daring him to keep going, to say more. He’d fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

“Poor little Katie, just a tragic accident. Must have lost her footing and fell through the floor. Couldn’t do anything, no one’s fault.”

Even now, he wasn’t sure why he’d said it like that. He hadn’t meant it even at the time, hadn’t felt a damn thing while he was pushing further into her space. It had been so quiet inside his head, so empty. He was sure that had scared him more than anything else.

“Robert, stop it.” He flicked his eyes back to the phone, Katie’s words forceful. No one could deny she put on a good show. But if they’d been there… if they’d seen her… She’d been in her element, winding him up like a fucking clockwork toy and watching with glee as she let him go.

“Don’t push me,” the voice growled, hoarse and rasping like he was choking on gravel. “Because if you do, I’ll push back harder… and you don’t want that. Trust me, you really don’t want that.”

She’d swallowed at that, the first time she had genuinely looked anything other than elated. “Are you threatening me?” she’d asked, perhaps surprised that her plan had worked so well. Maybe even she hadn’t realised how much she’d pushed his buttons.

“No, because you know what I’m saying. It’s not a warning, it’s a guarantee. Keep going the way you are, and I’ll make sure you regret it.” He couldn’t remember saying that. His tone had changed as well, one even line of nothing as if he’d switched to automatic.

He listened as there was another creak and footsteps receding, his own he recalled. He’d been walking away, wanted to leave it at that. He’d said more than enough and he’d felt sick with it. He’d just wanted to get out of there.

“You’re evil, you know that?” Katie shouted, the speakers crackling as her voice fought against the low-quality audio. There were more footsteps, this time getting stronger the closer they got, and then an eerie silence before the voice spoke again, the one that was his and yet not his.

“If I am, then it’s all the more reason for you to back off. I mean it, keep the Hell away from me. One more wrong move and… well, like I said, these floorboards really are pretty weak. Anyone could take a tumble.”

The audio whirred for a few more seconds, just Katie’s breathing and the faint creak of the building, before it clicked off and Robert was dropped back into the living-room with Aaron. The silence was terrible, far worse than if Aaron had got up to leave the minute Katie had stopped talking. He was just staring down, hands clasped so tightly together his fingerprints were likely leaving bruises. Robert gripped the phone a little tighter before slipping it back into his pocket, determined not to have a physical reminder of what they’d just had to listen to.

“You can stop looking at me like that, I’m not gonna bolt,” Aaron said after Robert has been staring at him for a good few minutes. He jerked his head away, too afraid to argue.

“I’m sorry.”

“I thought mum must have been exaggerating. Didn’t think you’d have actually… Fuck, Robert, you were practically threatening to throw her through the floor!” He didn’t sound angry, which was a surprise because Robert had been expecting him to yell. Instead he just looked… freaked out.

“I know,” he murmured, shoulders rolled forwards. He didn’t know what to say, how to make it better.

Aaron rubbed a hand over his eyes and leaned forwards, elbows pressed into his knees. “Why? Jesus, what the Hell did she do that would-”

“More than was on that recording, believe me,” Robert cut in, unable to help himself. He knew where Aaron was heading with that train of thought, the same way everyone else had gone, and he couldn’t listen to that again. “She timed it perfectly – made sure she got the part where I lost it, but didn’t record anything from before when she was goading me. She had it all planned, Aaron, lured me up to Wiley’s pretending like she wanted to make peace, put it all behind us. Then I got there and she just… She brought up everything – mum, dad, Andy, Max…”

“Max?”

Robert swallowed hard, already tasting the acrid smoke at the back of his throat like he’d suddenly been transported back to that day when he was nineteen and scared out of his mind.

“You remember me saying that me and Andy were in a car accident just before I left the first time?” he asked wearily, and Aaron nodded. “Max... our friend, was in the car with him. We were playing chicken along one of the back roads near Wilson’s field, and when Andy’s car overturned, I pulled him out first. I was going to go back for Max but… it just burst into flames, exploded right in front of me. There was nothing I could do.”

He’d thought a lot about that day, about how he always seemed to lose people to fires. He’d wondered, sat in a petrol station with nothing but a denim jacket to keep him warm, whether he was cursed. Maybe that’s why mum died. Maybe it was your fault, just like Max. He’d sat in his car, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth, and just sobbed against the steering-wheel. You’re on your own, son. He’d never been able to escape his dad’s voice, then or now. It was always there, just lurking in the back of his mind.

“Jesus,” Aaron whispered, forcing him back to reality. Probably the only person who could at this point.

“And she brought it all up again,” Robert continued, knowing he had to finish what he’d started. “You should have heard her, Aaron, she was loving it. Loving every second, just ripping into me like it was nothing. I know you probably don’t recognise me from that recording, but I barely recognised her either. That wasn’t the girl I knew – she just twisted everything round on me, said all this… stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like… God, I don’t even know where to start. She told me that my whole family was better off without me, that everyone was so much happier with me gone. She said my… my dad had never asked for me, never talked about me after I left… which is fucking stupid because she was long gone at that point so how the fuck would she know something like that?” He had to stop, his voice so tight and high that he knew if he kept going he’d just crumble. He blew out a breath, steadied himself, and then carried on. “She said it was a good job mum couldn’t see me now because God only knew what she’d make of her son… It just went on and on, and I just wanted her to stop. That’s all I wanted, just to scare her enough to shut her up.”

In the end, he’d scared himself far more than he seemed to have scared her. He’d gone back to Vic’s, because at that point he’d been dossing in her spare bedroom much to the annoyance of her husband, and sat for a good half an hour just staring at himself in the mirror, wondering how the Hell he’d managed to lose control that much. He’d had to press his hands between his thighs because they’d been shaking so badly, and then he’d pulled the half-bottle of whisky from beneath the bed and taken a swig which burned down his throat. He’d only just started drinking at that point, hadn’t built up a resistance to it. He’d gotten a lot better, or worse depending on your perspective, once he wound up alone in his flat in Leeds, once his whole life had been destroyed.

“What happened when she played it?”

He felt the dread twist in his stomach, clenching down until he had to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Andy phoned me later that evening, telling me to head to the pub. I knew she’d have told him everything, but at that point I thought I could talk my way out of it. Then I got there and Vic and Diane were standing with Andy and Katie, the four of them like a proper family, and me on my own. She didn’t even say anything, just played it for the whole pub to hear.”

He remembered how sick he’d felt, the blood draining from his face as everyone within hearing distance listened to him threatening to kill Katie. He’d stepped back as it played, losing his balance for a second like he was going to pass out, and his eyes had never left hers.

“What did they do?” Aaron asked, persistence making him sound impatient. Robert shrunk from it.

“Vic burst into tears and Andy went to her, calmed her down. Diane couldn’t even look at me, and Katie… she had this smile on her face like she’d won. She was so fucking… she was just so smug.”

Aaron sighed, still not looking at him. “You lost it again?” he said, though it sounded less like a question and more like a statement.

“Thought about it,” he admitted, because frankly he didn’t see how this could get any worse for him now. “Thought about tearing into her, showing them that what they heard was only the half of it, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. None of them would believe me, not when she had that kind of proof. I just left. Went back to Keeper’s, got my stuff and drove off. I tried phoning Vic the next day but I got no answer. She texted me that night and told me I wasn’t to call her again, that she didn’t want to hear from me, that none of them did. Said I wasn’t welcome anymore.” His throat was thick with tears now and he coughed to clear it, only to have the lump return immediately.

“God, Robert.”

He ignored the look of pity in Aaron’s eyes, squared his shoulders like a soldier, and forced himself to keep going. Not much further, he said to himself, like he was on the last mile of a marathon.

“I had money, I still had a job at that point… Stayed in a few different hotels, bounced around from place to place until I got to Leeds and then I stopped working altogether. Drank and slept and just stewed on it all for weeks. Then I got chatting to an old friend, the one who was doing up those flats, and I invested because I didn’t have anything else to do. It paid off, I got one of the apartments, and I started a new job with Ollie. I was made partner after seven months.” He said it like it was something to be proud of, and at the time he had been, but everything he’d done back then was soured by the knowledge that there was no one to see it, no one to celebrate his achievements. Just him, on his own. Like always.

“Then you met me.” Aaron said it so quietly that Robert almost wondered if he’d heard wrong. But they caught each other’s eye and he knew he hadn’t.

“Yeah. Then I met you,” he replied, remembering the moment he’d got out of the car that night, rain pattering against the tarmac, Aaron’s thin, hunched body curled into itself further up the road. You came out of the darkness like a ghost, he thought, and you’ve been haunting me ever since.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave,” he said eventually, his own hands clasped now as if in prayer. Bit late for that, his father’s voice said to him, and he shook it from his head.

Aaron shifted in his seat, twisting round to face Robert. He still didn’t look up.

“I’m not gonna leave.” Robert wanted to believe him. He sounded so sure, so unwavering, but he knew better than to believe it. No one ever stayed. No one.

“I’m just saying-”

“Yeah, and I’m just saying as well,” Aaron interrupted firmly. “I’m not leaving. All I wanted was to know what happened and you’ve told me.”

Robert couldn’t help but look up at that, and found Aaron staring back at him, eyes never straying for a minute.  

“You believe me?” he breathed, not sure what was happening anymore or why Aaron was smiling.

“You saying I shouldn’t?”

“Most people don’t.”

Aaron’s jaw locked for a moment before relaxing. “Well, good job I’m not most people, then.”

He couldn’t make sense of it. He’d been so ready to be left alone, had already started preparing the groundwork himself, almost encouraging Aaron to leave. It was a good way of convincing himself later that it had been his decision and not someone else’s. You haven’t been left, Robert, you told them to go, he’d say when he was enveloped in all that silence. But Aaron wasn’t leaving, in fact he had wrapped his fingers up in Robert’s like he never wanted to let go.

“I promised, didn’t I? I wouldn’t go back on that.”

Robert shook his head. He had to try again, he had to. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay… just because you said you would.”

“Robert, just listen to me, will you?” Aaron snapped, exasperated but still smiling. God, how was he still smiling? “I’m not going anywhere, and it’s got nothing to do with what I said. I’m staying cause I want to, all right? I don’t need another reason than that.”

He could feel his heart in his throat, every beat a heavy thud against his Adam’s apple, and he tried hard to inhale, to get some oxygen to his deprived lungs.

“Yeah?” There was too much blood rushing through his ears, roaring hot and fierce so that he barely heard Aaron’s answer, just the nod that accompanied it. His chest tightened painfully and he placed a hand against Aaron’s cheek, waiting for him to pull away. He didn’t, and it was as if the whole world had gone quiet, holding its breath.

Robert let his fingers slide a little back into Aaron’s hair and pulled him forwards, slowly, tentatively, until Aaron’s hands were braced on Robert’s thighs, his lips so close all he had to do was reach out and touch them.

I love you.

He almost froze, breath coming in shallow rasps as Aaron leaned in a little more, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. He hadn’t meant to think it, didn’t realise he’d even been feeling it until the words reverberated inside his head.

I love you, he thought again, this time deliberately, slipping his tongue into Aaron’s mouth and arching back, dragging him forwards by his narrow waist until he was straddling Robert’s thighs. He wondered if Aaron could feel the change in him, if there had been some physical shift which would alert him to what had just happened. But Aaron was greedily unbuttoning the front of Robert’s shirt, moaning a little as his hand slid along Robert’s chest, thumb rubbing against his nipple. He choked on a groan, deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arm tighter around Aaron’s waist, his jeans already much tighter than before.

“Bed,” he managed to say as they took a breath, his voice coarse with need.

Aaron grinned, blue eyes sparkling. “It’s not even five o’clock,” he said even as he unhooked his leg from Robert’s lap and got to his feet.

“I wasn’t planning on sleeping,” Robert answered, taking Aaron’s hand and leading him through the dark hallway and into their bedroom. Aaron was laughing, low and sweet in the back of his throat, and Robert pulled him closer once more, crushing their mouths together. Aaron’s tongue slid against his and Robert tilted his head to the right, pushing deeper as Aaron did the same. He stumbled back a little until his back hit the wall and soon felt his shirt slipping from his shoulders, dropping onto the carpet without a sound. Robert shivered as Aaron traced the curve of his biceps with warm, calloused fingertips, before pressing their foreheads together, Aaron’s hands dropping to unbuckle Robert’s belt.

“If I’d known this is what would happen when I told you, I think I’d have done it sooner,” he murmured into Aaron’s neck as his jeans were pushed down over his hips and thighs. He nipped a path along Aaron’s jaw, tongue rubbing against his stubble and revelling in the roughness along with the taste of sweat and skin. Aaron pressed a little closer, hands roaming over Robert’s back before sliding beneath the waistband of his boxers and squeezing his arse. His hips jolted forwards and they grinned, Robert making quick work of discarding Aaron’s hoodie and t-shirt.

Met with the sheer expanse of skin on offer, Robert lunged forwards, latching onto Aaron’s bared, sharp collarbone without mercy. He laved his tongue into the hollow, feeling Aaron’s heartbeat pulsate against his lips, and kissed a line across his chest before travelling up the length of his neck.

“Do you know how good you taste?” he said, tugging off Aaron’s belt with eager hands as he walked them forwards. Everything was going too slowly, the pace an endless torture and Robert shoved Aaron back onto the bed, tugging off his jeans with a harsh yank which had Aaron’s hips slipping a little on the sheet. Robert couldn’t help but touch himself at just the sight of Aaron laid almost bare in front of him, those lean thighs covered in soft, dark hair and spread out wide just for him.

The gift that keeps on giving, Robert thought with a grin that ached in his cheeks, before kneeling up on the bed and pressing his thumb into Aaron’s thigh. He whimpered a little at the touch, straining his neck back into the mattress, and Robert dug his nail in just a little harder till Aaron reached a hand down to push his boxers over his hips.

“Eager?” Robert asked, although his own cock was now so painfully hard it could have been a fucking coat hook. He slipped off his own boxers and walked his hands down until they were rested at either side of Aaron’s head, his hips bucking into Aaron’s thigh as his chest prickled with heat. He was almost shaking, arms trembling as he dipped his head to place a kiss against Aaron’s mouth, warm and tender. Aaron’s fingers wound into Robert’s hair, tight and insistent, and before he knew it he was on his back, the full, familiar weight of Aaron’s body pressing down on him.

He wasn’t entirely sure he was breathing properly, chest unable to rise and fall like normal with Aaron so close against him. The very air around him was thicker and warmer than before, tinged with mint and sweat and anticipation which just made his head spin. It was glorious. Every second felt like being pulled further under, like he was drowning, and he wrapped his arms around Aaron to pull him closer, feel their skin meld together as one. He kissed him hard and mercilessly, no tongue but the scrape of teeth which had them both aching for more. Robert could feel how hard Aaron was and he bucked his hips again, the hunger now clawing its way up his throat.

Aaron’s pupils had blown wide, the blue of his eyes reduced to just a thin, azure outline. He looked ravenous, like he could devour Robert whole, and Robert knew he would let him. God, he would let him do whatever he wanted.

There was barely any light coming in through the window now, but Robert could just make out the cage of ribs beneath Aaron’s translucent skin as he heaved another breath. He placed a hand against Aaron’s side, caressed the soft, tender skin along his sternum, and then pushed his hips up firmly. Aaron let out a series of ‘fuck’s before he ground down on Robert’s cock, bottom lip disappearing into his mouth as he bit down hard to stop himself from shouting. And Robert wanted more. He wanted everything.

“Aaron,” he breathed, pulling him down again for another kiss. His pulse was throbbing in the base of his cock, heat pooling low in his stomach, and he wasn’t going to last. He couldn’t wait much longer. “I need you.”

Aaron drew a thumb across Robert’s mouth and smiled. “Think you’ve got me already, or were you not paying attention?” he said, laughing breathlessly. But Robert couldn’t laugh, couldn’t breathe, just rubbed his hand against Aaron’s thigh as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and pressed his mouth to Aaron’s ear.

“I need you… inside me.” It felt almost like a confession, something which he’d wanted to utter aloud for so long without knowing. Aaron’s legs tightened around him, his expression unreadable, and Robert wrapped his fingers around his wrist to stop him bolting.

“Aaron?”

“We’ve… we’ve never… done that before,” he said hesitantly, questioningly. Robert swallowed.

“I know,” he breathed, hand sliding up his arm to squeeze Aaron’s shoulder. “I know, but I want you. I want all of you.”

He felt drunk with desire, with just the idea of Aaron buried deep inside him. How he’d be stretched open for Aaron to push into, how hot and full he’d feel, how utterly maddening just the thought of it was to him.

Aaron was staring at him with such fear, such confusion though that Robert snapped himself out of his dream and drew himself up, brushing their noses together.

“We don’t have to,” he whispered, the darkness making him brave. “We don’t have to, not if-”

“No, it’s just…” Aaron began but couldn’t seem to finish, ducking his head into the side of Robert’s neck before pulling back again. “It’s just… I only ever did… that… with clients. I don’t know… I don’t know how it would feel… with you.”

He’d never realised, not in the all time they’d been together. He’d never once questioned it. Robert had always topped and Aaron had never complained, never seemed to want to change roles, and so Robert hadn’t thought about it. But now… God, now it was all he could think.

“Why didn’t you say?” he asked, crowding Aaron with his arms and legs just to keep him close, keep him steady. And Aaron shrugged, half-there half-not in the shadows, before kissing the corner of Robert’s mouth with the lightest of touches.

“I do want to. I want to know… what it’d feel like.”

Robert almost came with just those words, felt his cock dripping at the admission, and pressed his mouth against Aaron’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Aaron,” he moaned, eyes screwed shut, and he felt Aaron’s hand against his chest pushing him backwards onto the crumpled pillows. There was a knee between his legs, nudging them apart which he did without protest, and then Aaron was on top of him, hands everywhere and lips wet and hot against his stomach. He arched into it, just wanting more, and he thought he heard Aaron murmur the word ‘patience’ into his skin but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t be sure of anything other than the noise of a drawer being pulled open and the wet, sticky sound of Aaron rubbing lube onto his fingers.

Robert almost whimpered with anticipation, mouth gone bone dry, and spread his legs wider.

“Please,” he pleaded, too far gone to feel at all ashamed, and Aaron made a noise in the back of his throat like he was trying not to growl. He lifted his lower half off the bed a little as Aaron shifted forwards, tightening his legs around Aaron’s hips, and then there was a wet finger tracing up his thigh and he shivered.

“Oh, fuck,” he said as he felt Aaron circle his entrance, so slow and languid that Robert was certain he’d go insane with it. His eyes lost focus, the whole room disappearing into nothing but a block of pale grey, before sharpening as Aaron’s index finger breached the ring of muscles.

His mouth wasn’t functioning so the stream of expletives came out as an indefinable moan. It burned, so much so that Robert wasn’t sure he wanted to carry on, but then Aaron pushed a little deeper and suddenly his body took over, arching into the touch with everything he had. How did I not know I needed this? God, this is everything I could ever want.

“All right?” he heard Aaron ask from above him and he nodded quickly, baring down on his finger again just to feel it push deeper. Aaron’s lips were at his throat now, and then he felt himself being stretched as another finger slid inside.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t done this before. He’d tried everything at least once, and this far more than that. And it wasn’t that Aaron was doing it any better than the myriad of faceless guys who’d worked into him when he needed out of his head for a little while. But it was somehow more with him, and Robert could only think it was because he knew Aaron, because he wanted him with everything he had, felt every cell in his body sparking with need for him. That’s why it felt so good, why he couldn’t get enough of it.

He felt a little light-headed as Aaron worked into him, the whole room filled with just those slick fingers pushing in and pulling out to a fast rhythm. Robert reached down and stroked his cock, just enough to relieve some of the ache that had built up, before he went back to just taking it, his muscles pulled taut like a wire. He was just about to beg Aaron for more when suddenly the fingers slid out and Robert gasped, too empty as he shuddered from the loss of contact.

But then he watched as Aaron tore at the square, silvery packet with his teeth and rolled on a condom, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before focusing on Robert with such intensity that all Robert could do was stare back.

“Ready?” Aaron asked, lifting Robert’s legs back up to his hips and positioning himself just close enough so Robert could feel the head of his cock against his arse.

“God, yes,” he breathed, not daring to break eye contact as Aaron pushed forwards just a little.

Heaven. There was nothing he could say or do other than give himself over as Aaron pushed all the way inside him in one sure stroke. He was so thick and warm, stretching him wider than Robert was sure he’d ever felt before, and pulled in air like he was dying, like any second now he would turn to ashes and just float away on the wind.

“Aaron.” He said his name like it was the first time he’d ever heard it and now it was the only thing he wanted to say. His fingernails dug hard into the mattress just to find some purchase as he felt Aaron pull out a little before thrusting back in, sending a shock of pleasure up his spine. He shuddered with it, trying desperately to arch further into Aaron’s cock but his hip was soon pressed into the mattress to stop him.

“I’m close,” Aaron said, weak and breathy as he leaned forward to press in deeper still, and Robert wrapped his thighs around Aaron’s hips, pulling him in as tight as he could.

“God, Robert, so close,” Aaron said again, voice almost strangled, and he knew they couldn’t go much further. They were hurtling towards the edge, too desperate to slow down now.

“I love you.”

He’d said them before, out of obligation or loyalty or as a way of an apology, but not like this. Not like he was surrendering a part of himself, like it was the only thing he had left to give. With the others, there had been nothing behind those words, just them alone. But he could feel it sitting heavy in his stomach, the weight of it pinning him to the bed, and he felt sick. Sick with longing, with dread, with hope. He meant it this time. God, he meant it this time.   

“I love you,” he cried out again, and found it was the only words his mouth knew how to say. He arched into Aaron’s touch, panting hard as the thrusts shortened, faster and more shallow as they both sprinted for the finish line. Not long, he thought as his head spaced a little, floated off into the darkness before coming back as he felt warm fingertips against his shoulder. And then he was saying it again, like he couldn’t quite help himself. I love you, I love you, I love you. Over and over till his tongue stiffened, till the whole room was just filled with his voice saying those three words. Had them spilling from between his red, swollen lips even as he felt Aaron’s cock stutter inside him as he came, even as he followed straight after with an almost pained sound. I love you, he thought when his lungs were too heavy to speak.

I love you.

Chapter Text

There’s a tap-tap-tap, rhythmic and echoing, and Aaron only realises its his shoes against the concrete floor when he stops walking. The boxing club has never looked so vacant, just a hollow, frozen box with broken shards of light coming through the half-boarded up windows. There are crates stacked in the back corner covered in polythene, his bed in the beginning before Ronnie realised he was sleeping in the club because he had nowhere else to go. Then he’d upgraded to a sleeping-bag in the supplies cupboard, which was marginally warmer and had less chance of being woken up by a curious rodent.

Ronnie’s office is closed, and Aaron turns his attention to the boxing ring itself. It isn’t much, not like the local council was ever going to fund a pimp’s bare-knuckle fighting enterprise. The platform is just a raised slab of cement covered with a threadbare mat, and the ropes connected between the posts are frayed and worn. Aaron moves towards it, reaching out his hand to wrap his fingers round the blue cord. It feels rougher than he remembers, not worn smooth as he’s sure it had been before, and there’s a blackening stain embedded into the strands which feels sticky to the touch. Oil, Aaron thinks first before shaking his head: blood.

He hears the wind whistling in through the cracked window to his right and shivers even though he doesn’t feel cold. He swore he had a hoodie but now he’s in his t-shirt and boxers… his boots are gone, too. Hadn’t he been wearing them just a few seconds ago?

“You getting in, or what?”

Aaron hisses in shock as he steps backwards, eyes taking in Ronnie who is standing in the ring, taping up his hands. The top half of his blue overalls are tied around his waist and his fingers are smeared in ink or oil, Aaron can’t be sure.

“Drop your elbows! Keep those fists raised!”

He’s standing opposite Ronnie, gloves on, bouncing back on his heels as he dodges a right-hook. He’s not sure when he made the decision to duck under the ropes or start sparring with his former pimp, but now he’s suddenly slipping back into old habits like it’s nothing.  He dodges another blow and when he comes back up again, ready to take a swing, it’s his mum staring back at him.

“M-mum?” he stammers, fists dropping as he takes her in. Her hoop earrings jangle like wind-chimes, and her fringe hangs low over her eyes, poker straight and flat against her forehead. She looks harder, glaring at him as she pulls back her arm.

“But now I do know you… You know what, you’re still a stranger. And I don’t like you. How sad’s that, eh? I don’t even like my own child.”

He’s only just aware that the voice sounds faint, echoing around the walls, when her fist slams into his jaw and he stumbles back into the corner of the ring. He can taste the blood in his mouth and there’s a sharp sting to his eyes which he blinks away furiously. He can’t see, everything a hazy shimmer, but he turns all the same, a question poised on his tongue.

Ronnie is laughing at him. His knuckles are bruised, the tape having disappeared, and he’s clapping.

“You’re a fucking waste of space, aren’t you, lad?” he says, striding over and ruffling Aaron’s hair before tightening his grip on the strands at the nape of his neck, yanking him back up so their face-to-face.

“Fucking nobody,” he spits, and there’s a hand at his throat. Ronnie’s disappeared, and this man… this man Aaron hasn’t seen in years. Greying hair, strong arms, disgust curling his upper-lip. He’s got one hand still on Aaron’s neck and the other is unbuckling his belt.

“Please… stop,” he whimpers, trying to pull back, but the man kicks out his legs and suddenly he’s on his back, something soft underneath him. A duvet? The gloves are gone now and his fingers are clawing at the man’s arm, trying to stop him as he pulls the belt free of his jeans. And out of the corner of his eye, a bedside table is just out of reach in the middle of the ring, a lamp flickering on top.

“Stay still,” Aaron hears him whisper, low and warm and insistent against his ear, and Aaron makes a grab for the lamp, legs still pinned down beneath the heavy weight of the man on top of him. He grips the wooden base and swings round, the crack deafening in the hollow silence of the boxing club. He goes down like a fallen tree and Aaron recoils from him, cowering back into the corner, shaking as he brings his knees up to his chest. He can’t close his eyes, the fear so thick in the back of his throat that he struggles to breathe, but there’s something green shining to his left and he turns. A neon EXIT sign hangs just below the door, fizzing with electricity, and Aaron wonders when Ronnie installed that.

The man splutters and Aaron twists back round, bracing himself for… but it’s not him. His shirt has gone from a crisp white to a pale-blue paisley pattern, and his hair isn’t grey. It’s blonde.

“Robert?” His voice is barely audible, and Aaron almost wonders if he’s thought it rather than spoken his name aloud. But then Robert pushes himself up onto his feet, swaying slightly as he faces Aaron. His eyes are unfocused, and in his right hand is a roll of money.  

 “You’re not done until I say you are. Call that a down-payment… for what’s coming,” he snarls, but the thud on the mat isn’t crumpled notes but a white package wrapped in plastic. Aaron knows what it is, can hardly deny the familiarity of this particular scenario, and lets his eyes slide up till they meet the gaze of Jay McFarlane.

“Don’t screw this up,” he says, smile sharp as a razor, and Aaron grips the package tighter to his chest. He’s standing, but he doesn’t remember getting up, and Jay is much closer than he was two seconds ago. He smells of tobacco and his silver filling glints against the overhead lights when he chuckles.

“You know, you could make it with us if you stopped being the little runt, scared of his own shadow. Why don’t you start being a man, eh?” He’s still smiling, and he slips something into Aaron’s hand. A switch blade, cold and metallic against his palm, and Jay winks at him like they’ve just struck a deal. Aaron feels the nausea heavy in his stomach.

“I can’t… Not this. I can’t,” he tries, but Jay has turned his back, he’s walking away from him like that’s them done, nothing more to be said. Aaron shouts after him but he can’t get his feet to move quick enough and the package is still in his hand, heavy and soft and dangerous. He shouts for Jay to come back but the words won’t come, so he reaches out a hand, makes a grab for his shoulder, and when he turns…

 “Why can you never just do as your told!” his dad yells, face contorted in anger, and every light in the building goes out with a crack. It feels as though the air has been sucked from the room, it’s too warm and too cold and all he can see are those eyes staring at him through the murky shadows.

“Always have to keep pushing it, don’t you? Can never leave well enough alone!” he growls, his fingers digging into Aaron’s arms. He wants to run but he can’t feel his legs anymore, and there’s no EXIT sign above the door to light his way now. The package is still in his hand, but it doesn’t feel as heavy as before, and it’s softer, not wrapped in plastic. He can’t see it clearly through the darkness but he has a sinking feeling that he knows what it is.

“Get upstairs! Go on, go to your room. I’ll be up in a minute.”

He’s going to be sick. He can feel it burning in his throat and without his dad’s hand on his arm, he stumbles into the taut rope, clambering under it because it’s too high up to climb over now. And then he’s running. Running like someone’s chasing him, even if it’s just his memories. Running like he wishes he had all those times before. Running till the tears force him to stand still. And then he’s on his knees, shivering as he buries his face into the teddy bear he’s clutching in his hands. And he doesn’t stop until the darkness has swallowed him whole.

His arms were wrapped round his pillow, clutching it so tightly his nails had actually ripped through the fabric. It took him a second to realise where he was, that it had been a dream, that none of it had been real. Then came the overwhelming desire to cry which he fought back with everything he had, pushing the pillow onto the carpet so he had a chance to breathe in clean air. He could feel himself shaking, saw his fingers trembling against the mattress, and he stared at them hard until the tremors subsided a little.

He hadn’t had a dream like that in months, and even then it hadn’t been anything like that. He could still taste the bile in his mouth, bitter against his tongue, and despite knowing he needed to sit up, breathe deeper, he was fairly certain if he did he’d end up having to run to the bathroom to wretch into the sink.

Sweat prickled against the back of his neck and along his shoulder blades, his hair damp where it stuck to his forehead, and every part of him was too warm, like he was running a fever. He kicked off the duvet before freezing, wondering if he’d woke Robert up, but when he twisted round he was alone. And it was a relief.

There was still a part of him which was sure everything that had happened yesterday was just another dream. Robert coming to find him, telling him about Katie, the recording, the two of them suddenly grappling with clothes and laughing, breathless as they stumbled into bed… Robert wanting Aaron to take control… Aaron agreeing despite every beat of his heart telling him not to… Robert saying the one thing no other person had ever said to him before…

He shivered again, pushing himself upright and curling his toes into the carpet. His muscles ached and he dug the pads of his fingers into his shoulder, pushing out the tension only to have it coil back tighter as soon as he released his hold. It was only 07:40, he had plenty of time before he had to be at the garage for his first day at work, but even the prospect of making small-talk with Cain made him want to hide under the duvet again. Everything felt too close still, like the nightmare had its claws dug deep into his skin and he couldn’t shake it off. And there was a niggling feeling deep in his gut, a question he didn’t want to think about, far less answer. But he couldn’t help himself, it persisted despite his stubborn refusal to listen, until eventually he didn’t have the strength to fight it.

Why did you dream about all that last night, of all nights?

And the problem was, the answer sprung out at him unbidden and entirely unwelcome. He knew why, had known when he went to sleep that he was too tense, too terrified to slip into unconsciousness. How could he possibly leave what Robert had said behind him, how could he not pick over it like a carcass, analysing every detail of the before, during and after? Was it any wonder, really, that his dreams had revolved around the very people in his life who had supposedly cared about him, only to abandon or hurt him when things got difficult? Was it really a surprise that he had such doubts that Robert would do the same?

His legs felt shaky and he had to keep a hand on the bedside table to stop himself tipping forwards. He dragged open the curtains and found the sky was still an inky smudge across the village, pinpricks of gold set against a navy backdrop where the first early-risers were beginning to stir. He pressed his forehead to the window, the chill seeping into his bones and clearing his thoughts just enough for him to form some kind of functioning plan.

Shower. Get dressed. Breakfast. Go to work.

He could do it. He had to do it, had to keep moving even though it was an effort just to put one foot in front of the other. But he’d done it before, pushed himself when everything was falling down around his ears. Keep going, the voice inside his head said, small but determined. Just keep fucking going.

There was something uncomfortable about stripping off his clothes in the bathroom, as though he was laying himself open to an attack, and he hurriedly switched on the shower just so he could duck inside. The water ran frozen then scalding before dipping into a more tolerable region, but Aaron immediately turned it back towards cold, the temperature shocking him out of the last remnants of the nightmare. He hauled in one breath after another, dipping his head beneath the jet until he was shaking, goosebumps peppering his arms. He turned the notch back round to warm and quickly worked some shampoo into his hair, feeling the better for being clean. He stood beneath the water for another ten minutes, letting his eyes fall shut for a moment before flying open again when the memory of the dream returned with full force. It still clung to him like a shadow, haunting him even now that he was awake.

Once he was done, he dressed with the pain-staking precision of someone intent on focusing on the mundane, his brain working over each piece of clothing like it was a mathematical problem to be solved. The flat was still silent and Aaron wondered whether Robert had gone into the office early, even though he’d said before that he wouldn’t be going back in until tomorrow.

He checked the kitchen first, just in case Robert was having breakfast, but it was empty. Both their keys were in the bowl though, and his coat was on the hook in the hallway. Aaron padded back along till he reached the living-room and peaked his head round the door. A mass of limbs was curled up on the sofa, bare, freckled arms looking pasty with the faint, wintry light seeping in through the window. He had his back to Aaron, his face pushed into the cushions, and his hair was impossibly ruffled from sleep. It made Aaron’s chest hurt, the guilt and shame working deeper into his core, and all he could do was stare for a few seconds more, the previous night working over in his mind.

They hadn’t said much after they de-tangled their legs and arms from each other. Aaron had rolled onto his back, exhaling one shallow breath after another, his head pounding as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. And then Robert was up, saying he needed water, only he didn’t come back. When Aaron went to find him, he was typing furiously in the office in just his boxers, complaining that he needed to catch up on some work before his meeting with Ollie first thing on Monday. So Aaron had left him, cowardice and fear making him retreat back into the confines of their bedroom, and stayed there until he eventually forced himself into sleep, believing it would give him some relief from the torment of Robert’s words going round and round inside his head. He should have known it would have had the opposite effect.

He rubbed at his neck where there was a small bruise forming just at his collarbone, a gift from Robert’s insistent mouth, and then went through to the kitchen. Even the thought of food had his stomach groaning in protest so he settled for a glass of cold water to calm the dregs of bone-numbing terror still working through his system. His shoes were still in the corner of the kitchen and he pulled them on before grabbing his hoodie that had been discarded onto the floor when Robert had yanked it off his shoulders. He had been so desperate for Robert’s touch, drunk on every brush of fingertips against bare skin, and now… now he felt so cold.

It was just approaching nine and he quickly zipped up his hoodie before grabbing his keys from the bowl. He thought about taking one of Robert’s coats, knew he wouldn’t mind, but something felt off about it now, like it’d be stealing. The door unlocked with a soft click and he eased himself out, trying not to make too much noise. He wasn’t sure when Robert had fallen asleep, but chances were it must have been late if he’d decided to sleep on the sofa than drag himself back to bed.

There was a brittle frost crystallising the grass verges, Aaron noticed as he stepped outside, and his breath came out in short, sharp gusts of air that dissipated as soon as they were hit by a ray of watery sunlight. He could see the corner of the garage as he came to the crest of the hill which sloped gently onto the main street. There was the hammering of metal on metal and there was someone half-hidden under the bonnet of a BMW. Cain didn’t look up until Aaron’s trainers crunched across the gravel, and when he did his dark eyes looked him over with disinterest.

“Decided to show your face, then?” he said as Aaron drew nearer, leaning back against the car. The arms of his blue overalls were tied around his waist and Aaron was immediately struck with the image from his nightmare where Ronnie had had on the exact same outfit. His stomach somersaulted and he immediately dropped his gaze to the ground.

“I’m not late,” he replied, but his voice was hoarse and defensive and he could almost feel Cain bristle in front of him.

“All right, just making a joke. Blimey, someone got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Aaron chanced a look up only to regret it. Cain was smiling at him like the whole thing was just one big joke. Aaron wasn’t laughing.

“Just want to get on with it, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Well, if you’re that keen you can make me a brew. Kettle’s over there,” he said, slightly harder this time, less forgiving. He gestured to the work bench inside the garage where a kettle was sat alongside various tools and Aaron went inside, ignoring the burn on his neck where Cain’s eyes were currently boring into his skin.

 “You all right?” he heard him ask after several seconds of brittle silence.

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“If it’s Chas-”

“It’s not,” Aaron cut him off, not wanting to even think about his mum. Her words, another memory from his childhood which had infiltrated his nightmare, were still ringing in his ears.

“Right.” Cain didn’t sound convinced but eventually Aaron heard the hammering start up again. He focused on putting the teabag in the mug, pouring the boiling water, adding the milk and sugar after his uncle shouted the instructions from underneath the car. His head was still spinning but it didn’t seem as bad now that he had something else to occupy his thoughts.

“Here you go,” he said, handing over the mug which Cain took with another confused half-glance in his direction.

“Cheers. You not having one?”

“No, not just now,” he replied, because frankly he didn’t think he could hold it down. He felt paper-thin, too weak and fragile to withstand anything more than just staying still.

“Well, you can come over here, then, and watch me change out this fan belt. You know what one of them is?”

Aaron remembered the conversation he’d had yesterday with Robert at the bar and so he recited everything he’d managed to absorb. Cain almost looked impressed. “So there’s a brain in there somewhere. Who’d have thought it,” he joked, his tone light again. And Aaron told himself it was just that, just banter, but it grated on him and he felt his spine almost snap as he straightened up.

“You gonna get on my case every day or is this a special occasion?”

Cain looked taken aback, eyes wide before he rocked forwards on his feet, placing the mug down on the bench to his right. “Might not have to if you stopped being such a miserable git. I’m not forcing you to be here, you know.”

He had a point, Aaron knew that, and he immediately felt the guilt return, remembering that Cain had only taken him on as a favour to his mum.

“Got to work, don’t I?” he muttered, chin rubbing against the cold metal zip of his hoodie as he let his gaze sink again.

“What were you doing before you came back here?” Cain asked, now picking his tea up again and taking a long sip before wincing. Aaron mirrored the movement, but for very different reasons.

“Nothing. Odd jobs, mainly,” he lied. It wasn’t likely Cain would be all that sympathetic with having a whore as a nephew, not that Aaron would have told him even if he’d been the Dingle version of Mother Theresa.

“So it’s the money you’re after, not my winning personality,” he said with a wicked grin which had Aaron almost smirking.

“Yeah, sorry to break it to you, but your charm’s not really won me over.”

“Never had any complaints before.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Oi. Less of the cheek, got that?” Cain said sharply, but his mouth was still lifted slightly at one corner. “What did I say yesterday about being your boss?”

“Something about respect, only I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to earn that,” Aaron countered, half-enjoying himself now. He was good at this – mouthing off, cheeky, sarcastic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten to be like this, but it felt like slipping into an old skin. Like coming home.

“Respect your elders. Ever heard that one before?” Cain asked, taking another gulp of tea.

Aaron let a bubble of laughter escape from his chattering teeth. “Well you’ve got the ‘elder’ bit right,” he said, and Cain shook his head, smirking.

“Well, at least you’ve cracked a smile. Was starting to wonder if you knew how.”

“Your face’d have anyone cracking up,” Aaron replied, because he was on a roll and he was fairly certain Cain was having just as much fun as he was now.

“I can tell you’re gonna cause me no end of grief,” he said, returning to the engine of the BMW.

“Keep you on your toes, though,” Aaron muttered under his breath, shifting slightly so he could get a better look at what his uncle was doing. It all looked like hunks of metal to him, but Cain’s oil-stained fingers worked over each section like it was a map only he could read.

“Yeah, if you say so. Go on, pass us a wrench… if you know what that is, like,” he said, nodding towards the open toolbox behind Aaron. He twisted and grabbed what he was fairly certain was a wrench and passed it over.

“Here.”

Cain glanced at it for a second before nodding. “Keep this up and you might even get a gold star.”

Aaron let his eyes roll into the back of his head before he moved forwards to stand beside his uncle.

“Can’t wait.”

***

Aaron had never realised there was so much to learn about cars, or that he knew so little, but by the time it was approaching one o’ clock he felt as if he’d just gone been taught ten years’ worth of mechanic theory. He wiped his hands on the cloth Cain had chucked at his face and then went to wash up his mug. He’d managed a bit of orange juice when one of the other mechanics, Dan he’d said his name was, came in to beg Cain for the day off because his daughter or girlfriend or someone had had some kind of disaster at the salon. So far Aaron hadn’t felt the need to throw up, so he was counting it as progress.

“You brought lunch with you?” Cain asked, and Aaron shook his head. The idea of heading back home, coming face-to-face with Robert, was not something he had any intention of doing just yet. “I’ll go to the café… get us something?”

“No, Moira made me sandwiches. You go on, though, but don’t be long! Half an hour, all right?”

He nodded and headed off to Bob’s, keeping his head down as he passed Keeper’s. He ordered a bacon roll from a very smiley looking woman who quizzed him about everything and anything, but his silence coupled with his glare soon put paid to her friendliness and she immediately retreated into the back room. When she came back out with his order, he took it with a quiet ‘thanks’ and heard her say something about ‘manners’ and ‘the youth of today’ which had him grumbling as he slipped out the door.

The sandwich went almost entirely untouched as he sat on one of the rickety chairs while Cain nipped across to David’s to get himself a can of coke – “Moira’s got this idea in her head that I’ve got a sweet tooth,” he’d explained while wolfing down a Mars Bar, but Aaron had only been half-listening, most of his attention going to the missed call he had from a number he didn’t recognise. No one had contacted him on this number apart from Robert… no one knew this number apart from Robert. Who the Hell was calling him?

He was about to put it back in his pocket and ignore the dread knotting in his stomach when he felt it vibrate again, the screen lighting up as it rang. There was a part of him that knew he should reject the call, knew it was too dangerous to answer, but Aaron had never been all that good at listening to the rational side of his brain, not when it came to things which could put him at risk.

“Hello?” he said into the mobile, and immediately heard heavy breathing on the other end.

“Oh, thank God. I wasn’t sure… Hi.” The voice sounded familiar. Young, boyish… Aaron couldn’t place it.

“Hi. Who is this?”

“Shit, sorry. It’s Finn. Do… do you remember?”

Finn. How could he forget?

“Yeah, course. You all right?”

There was silence on the other end of the line and Aaron leaned forwards in his seat.

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. I’ve messed up. I’ve really messed up.” He sounded panicked, voice thready and weak.

“All right, slow down. What’s happened?”

Another pause, another series of shaky, heavy breaths. “I was with… you know, a customer, but I forgot to ask for the money up front. He’s driven off, Aaron. He just drove off and now I’ll have to tell Ronnie-”

“Okay, it’s fine,” Aaron said, even as he remembered one very similar incident where it had been him in Finn’s shoes. It definitely hadn’t been fine then. “I’ve done that before, it’ll be okay. Look, do you have Ronnie’s number?” He didn’t know what he was planning, only that he wouldn’t have this boy go through what he went through, not if he could help it.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I’m not sure you should talk to him… I mean, you’re not working for him now, are you?”

Aaron squirmed, just the idea of it making his skin crawl. “No, but he’ll take it better if it comes from me. Just give me his number and I’ll text him now.”

He heard Finn sigh. “All right. Thanks, Aaron. Really, I just… I feel like I keep messing up.”

That guilt, that need to please… it was so heartbreakingly familiar that Aaron had to take a second just to breathe, to not allow his lungs to seize up with the pain of it, the sickening nostalgia.

“You’re new, stop giving yourself a hard time. You’ll learn. Although… I mean, I know I’ve got no right to talk, but if you have other options… If you’ve got a family-?”

“No. Well, I do, but… I can’t, look this is it for me. I have to make it work,” Finn replied, sounding desperate, and Aaron knew that feeling as well. Scarily so.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. Give me his number and I’ll see what I can do.”

Finn read him out the number and Aaron wrote it down. “Right. Just get some place warm, right? Go to that café we went to last time, you remember it? Go there and I’ll text you when he’s got back to me. It’ll be fine, Finn. Trust me.”

“Thanks. I mean it… thanks.”

Aaron hung up, the tremor back in his left hand, and got to work texting Ronnie. He knew it was a bad idea, knew this would only lead to more grief than he needed right now, but he couldn’t just do nothing. Finn needed help, and he sure as Hell wasn’t going to get that from his pimp.

This is Aaron. One of your boys (Finn) didn’t get paid by a punter. Not his fault so don’t go off at him. I mean it, he did nothing wrong. He’s young and he’ll learn, so just leave him be.

It didn’t sound like enough, but it would have to do. If he pushed it any further, started throwing his weight around too much, Ronnie would likely take it out on the boy… or come after Aaron, and that wasn’t something he would let happen, not now.

He sent it off, the nausea back with a vengeance, and checked the time. He had just under ten minutes before his break ended. It was still outside but he knew the fresh air would do him good – the car fumes were starting to make him feel sick and he wanted to stretch his legs, maybe get a little distance between himself and what he’d just done.

“Going for a walk,” he called to Cain who was just heading back from the shop.

“Right. Fine,” his uncle sighed, checking his watch before passing him on the street and going back to the garage.

Aaron headed towards the church, hands pushed into the pockets of his hoodie, and felt the weight of Finn’s words sink down onto his shoulders. He’d sounded so scared, so young… so like the person Aaron used to be. He’d forgotten how scared he’d been back then, how eager he’d been to make amends to Ronnie when he’d fucked up. So ready to grovel, to apologise, to do whatever it took to get back into his good graces. And he’d still be there now if it wasn’t for Robert. He’d still be selling himself, frozen and lonely and barely holding on. But now he was home, he had his family, he had a proper job and he had… he had Robert. He had someone who was his, all his, and Robert had said he loved him. He’d actually said it.

And Aaron, like the fucking coward he knew he was, had just froze.

His fingers curled around his mobile and he pulled it out of his pocket, bringing up his contact list, thumb shaking as he pressed Robert's name and brought up a blank text message before starting to type.

Sorry I had to leave early. First day at work, didn’t want to go upsetting Cain. I’ll be back later. Thought we could have a night in? Could cook us something nice if you fancy it, or order a takeaway? Let me know xx

The kisses felt wrong and awkward, but he’d never been good at showing how he felt, didn’t know how to, but this was too important not to even try. He needed to prove that he was in this, that he wasn’t going to bolt like Robert had predicted he would. He wanted to stay, he wanted what they had for as long as they could have it… he wanted them.

His break was almost over and he headed back to the garage, the frozen air lashing at his face like a whip. When he got to the door, Cain chucked him a pair of blue overalls and he caught them just before they smacked him square in the chest.

“You can put them on before we do anymore. Wouldn’t want to get your nice, clean clothes all dirty,” he said with a smirk and Aaron feigned laughter, going through to the back so he could haul the heavy, blue material up over his jeans before tying them around his waist.

They worked on the BMW for a solid hour and a half, and then Cain took it for a spin to make sure everything was in working order. He’d just parked it back in the drive when Aaron saw someone pulling up on a quadbike. He only realised it was Adam, Vic’s husband, when he yanked off his helmet.

“You all right, mate?” he called to Aaron as he hopped off the bike and came bounding over, all smiles.

“Yeah. You?” Aaron replied, still taken aback by how genuinely friendly this guy was. He’d never met anyone so relentlessly happy before.

“Good, yeah. Mum’s sent me down with this one’s phone,” he said, pointing at Cain, “cause apparently he’s going a bit senile in his old age and forgot it this morning.” He flashed them both another grin and Aaron realised exactly why Robert’s sister had married him.

Cain came over then and grabbed the mobile from Adam’s hand. “Don’t start, I’ve already had him on at me all day without you having a go on an’ all.”

“Oh, mint!” Adam exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Now I’ve got someone on my side! I’m sick of mum bending my ear every time I make a dig.”

Aaron shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty gags left – OAP club, pensioners bus pass, wartime stories… Sure we can work on them together,” he joked, surprised at himself for being so relaxed in front of someone he barely knew.  

“Too right!” Adam laughed, low and sweet and generous. Aaron felt himself smiling even though he half-heartedly fought against it.

“Oh, brilliant, that’s all we need. Bloody Laurel and Hardy over here!” Cain shouted, having now headed back over to the car.

“Laurel and who?” Adam asked, brows scrunched together in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” Aaron replied. “Must be something he watched when he was younger… you know, fifty years ago or something, on his black and white television.”

“Oh, you’re hilarious, you are,” he heard his uncle mutter. “Think you’ll still be laughing when I sack you?”

Adam rolled his eyes, patting Aaron’s shoulder. His touch was warm, not that Aaron was in anyway surprised by that.

“Don’t panic, he’s all bark and no bite… usually,” he said with a wink, before his expression went a little more serious. “And when did you start here, anyway? You don’t waste any time, I’ll give you that.”

Aaron shrugged, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back against the work bench. “Yeah… pretty sure mum had more to do with that than my glowing CV.”

“I bet. Don’t think I’d want to go up against her. No offense, like.”

He smiled. “None taken. She’s bloody terrifying when she wants to be.”

“You said it!” Adam laughed again. “Though, my lot are probably just as bad. You should see mum when she goes off on one. Fucking mental.”

“Less of the language!” Cain yelled from underneath the bonnet.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Adam countered, grinning.

“So you work up at the farm, then?” Aaron asked, deciding it might be best to steer them away from getting in anymore jibes at Cain. He was pretty certain his uncle wouldn’t fire him on his first day, but he might come pretty close if they didn’t cut it out soon.

Adam sighed. “For now, yeah. Not much else going for someone with my record.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget why you got banged up in the first place.”

Adam’s jaw locked at Cain’s words and Aaron gave him a questioning look.

“It’s a long story,” he said quietly, but Cain was suddenly coming round from the front of the car, smirking now.

“No, it’s not. This idiot decided he’d take matters into his own hands and set the garage on fire... with me still inside. Lucky he got away with just arson.”

Aaron glanced between them, wondering what the Hell he was missing.

“Yeah, all right, I’ve said I’m sorry. It’s not like I wanted you dead. Not really, anyway,” Adam replied.

“You set this place on fire?” Aaron found himself asking incredulously.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like that. My dad… he’d just died and it was only because him,” Adam said, stopping to jab a finger towards Cain, “and mum had an affair. I was angry, that’s all.”

It sounded like a fucking mess, not that he could judge anyone on their past.

“So I missed a lot while I was away, then?”

“You don’t know the half of it, mate. I could catch you up, though, if you like? Take you to the pub, grab something to eat? Vic’s working anyway so I’ve not got much on tonight.”

He thought about it, thought about what it would be like to have an actual friend in the village, someone he could have a laugh with and relax around. He smiled. “Yeah, why not.”

“Great!” Adam said, grinning again like it was his default setting. “Meet you in there at like… six? Or will the slave-driver still be working you at that time?”

“I’ll let him go at half-five, how does that sound?” Cain offered begrudgingly, glowering at the pair of them.

Aaron nodded. “Sounds like we’ve got a plan.”

“Right, I better get back before mum starts ringing. See you tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you tonight,” he said, watching as Adam jogged back over to the quadbike, kicking it to life and waving to Aaron before he sped off up the road. Aaron was just moving back round to where Cain was tinkering with a battered Nissan when he felt his phone vibrate once, then again, and felt his stomach plummet.

Robert. He’d totally forgotten his suggestion for them to have dinner tonight, and now he’d gone and agreed to a night with Adam in the pub.

“Fuck,” he hissed, pulling out his phone and getting ready to launch into apology when he realised it wasn’t Robert who had texted.

Leave it with me. Glad to have your new number, I’d hate to lose touch with my best boy. When are you back from your roadtrip?

Just remember, puppy, you can’t run forever. I’ll catch up eventually.

Chapter Text

He doesn’t love you.

There wasn’t anything else he could think about. No other version which might distract him from the uncompromising, brutal truth. He had told Aaron he loved him… and Aaron hadn’t said it back.

He doesn’t love you.

It had taunted him the night before, mocking him. Stupid Robert, it said. Pathetic Robert. Naïve, lonely, unloved…

He’d gone into his office just so he could drown out the thoughts with a bottle of whisky. Aaron had come to the door a few minutes later, asked what he was doing, and Robert had said something about needing to finish emails for Ollie as he pushed the whisky bottle further under the desk with his foot.

He’d expected Aaron to put up a fuss. “We should talk about this,” was what he had anticipated, but there had been nothing but silence. Just endless, infinite, terrifying silence before Aaron’s soft footsteps had retreated away and Robert was left alone.

He doesn’t love you.

It just kept assaulting him, bludgeoning the hope which Aaron had coaxed out of him over the last month or so. And he hated him for it. For making him think… for making him feel like this. For pretending that they were standing on solid ground rather than sinking sand. He hated him and it hurt, it hurt so god damn much because he loved him, too. He loved him… and it seemed that wasn’t nearly enough.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers curling round the hard seam of the sofa as he tried to right himself. His balance was entirely off, the alcohol still lighting up his veins like fire, and there was an impossible weight against his chest, a heavy dread which felt akin to being buried alive. He couldn’t make it stop. That questioning, unknowing feeling which clawed against his ribs desperately, scrabbling for purchase and finding none. It made him restless, his pulse a dull echo inside his ears, against his throat, making his hands tremor with every beat. He wanted to feel numb, to sink into nothingness, to have it swallow him whole, but instead it was as though every emotion he was capable of feeling overwhelmed him in one, sickening rush.

He pulled in another breath which caught inside his throat like silk over rocks and then pushed himself to his feet. He staggered, the corner of the coffee table stabbing his shin as he almost tripped over the damned thing, hissing as he put a hand out to steady himself. His neck ached from the awkward position he’d been lying in and his whole body felt cold. He rubbed some warmth back into his arms, only to have the heat recede again once he stopped. There was a hollowness to the flat which Robert recognised – Aaron was gone.

He doesn’t love you.

It pressed into his brain as he padded down the hallway, the words like blunt fingernails digging deeper and deeper, making him bleed. The bedroom door was open, the bed crumpled and empty. Aaron’s clothes were still in the wardrobe, mercifully or not Robert couldn’t decide, but he certainly wasn’t here. He didn’t want to feel relieved by that, didn’t want to relax because he was alone, but it happened all the same. The knot in his spine loosened at the knowledge Aaron wasn’t going to appear, blue eyes refusing to look at him either through shame or guilt or pity. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want the inevitable excuses which would follow: I’m not ready… I like you, but… We’re getting along fine as we are, we don’t need to say it…

He went over to the rail and picked out a shirt. He could smell the shower even from here, mint and tea-tree thick inside his nostrils. He couldn’t do that again. He didn’t want to be enveloped in Aaron’s scent, didn’t want to have it clinging to his skin. Instead, he doused himself in the cologne he’d brought back from Milan, the one that smelled of wealth and spices, and dressed without looking once at the empty bed behind him.

It was almost half-twelve when he yanked on his leather jacket and grabbed his keys and phone from the kitchen. His head still felt as though it had gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson but he refused to take any form of painkiller; whether out of some form of punishment for his own stupidity, or because it was the only thing keeping his terrified thoughts at bay, he couldn’t say. A little of both, probably.

The light was unforgiving as he stepped outside, a harsh glare which forced his head down and kept his eyes trained on the ground. He circled round the back of the village so as to avoid running into anyone… and then blindly just kept walking. He wanted to be as far from Aaron as possible, as far from this whole fucking, toxic place as he could physically manage. Why he had ever thought of this place as a safe haven, he would never know. It had never been that, not even when his father was still alive. In fact, there was nowhere on earth he considered as being less his home than Emmerdale. He had always been an imposter, someone on the outside looking in, and now… It just seemed all the more obvious, or perhaps he was just seeing things a little clearer.

His feet took him up onto the frosted hills, glistening like fine crystal under the late January sky. The jacket had been a bad idea, every minute shift in the wind direction managing to cut through him like a blade. His hands were almost blue, knuckles pure white as he shoved them deeper into the shallow pockets, and he pressed on, still not entirely sure where he was going. The only thing he was sure of was that the further he got from the village, the better he felt. He could breathe again, one lungful of fresh, clean air at a time, and by the time he was onto the dirt track, the stone barns and fields neatly lined up against the horizon, it was as though the arctic air had scoured his skin, cleansed him.

There was a stile further up to his left, covered in moss and lichen and frost, and with nowhere to go and no urgency to return home, Robert found himself sitting down on it, his hands sandwiched between his thighs for warmth. He hadn’t been up this way in years, even before he’d come back the last time. He remembered the shattered remnants of his childhood which were spent running across these fields, his father yelling for him to come back, his mother telling him not to go too far. He remembered how the laughter had risen high up in his throat and spilled out, arms like windmills whirling through the air as he sprinted through the waist-deep grass. In those days, his dad would hoist him up onto his shoulders and Robert would rest his chin on his threadbare cap. He could smell it now, damp tweed and fresh hay which was so intrinsically connected to his father that it almost made his stomach ache.

His phone gave a short burst of vibration against his hipbone and he leaned back so he could slip it free from his jeans pocket, glad to have been pulled out of his melancholy.

Sorry I had to leave early. First day at work, didn’t want to go upsetting Cain. I’ll be back later. Thought we could have a night in? Could cook us something nice if you fancy it, or order a takeaway? Let me know xx

He tugged his lower lip in by his teeth, refusing to let the hot flare of hope burn too long inside him. It was a peace offering, nothing more. A chance to relieve some of the awkward tension which would likely envelop them both once they were surrounded by the same four walls. But Aaron sounded… Robert didn’t know. Maybe he had just needed time to think, maybe he’d go home and they’d have dinner and… Maybe it would work out. Maybe this time it would work out all right.

His fingers were half-frozen but he managed to slowly type a reply, keeping it as casual as he could manage. His eyes scanned the message, honing in on each individual word, and he was just about to send it off when he heard the sound of a horse’s hooves echoing down to meet him.

“You can just go back the way you came.”

He looked up at the voice, locking his phone and shoving it back into his pocket before standing. Katie was slowing her mare to a stop just at the crest of the hill, her blonde hair in a loose ponytail which bounced across her shoulder as the horse took its final few steps.

“You don’t own the bloody road, you’re not Lady of the manor now,” he retorted, coming to stand in the middle of the track. She scowled, a familiar look which she only ever seemed to wear around him, and sat a little straighter in the saddle.

“This is private property, and I won’t have you coming up here stirring things and upsetting Andy again.”

He grinned, couldn’t help it. Somehow he’d actually forgotten how fun it was to wind her up. “Got under his skin, did I? Must have hit a nerve,” he laughed, and watched the corners of her mouth tighten considerably.

“Just go, Robert.”

“I’m not going anywhere, or hadn’t you heard?”

She sniffed, smirking a little. “Oh, I heard. Vic filled me in, said you were staying put. Although, she said that the last time and look what happened there.”

He felt the back of his neck prickle with rage but pushed it down. She was trying to get to him, push him over the edge, but he was wise to her now, knew her games better than he had done before. He wouldn’t fall for it a second time.

“I bet your sharpening up your pitchfork already.”  

Katie shrugged, carding her fingers through the horse’s mane. “I don’t need to. Chances are you’ll mess it up all on your own. I doubt I’ll have to lift a finger.”

He might have been able to bite back with a retort of his own but something in her voice was so solid, so sure, that he had to take a moment before he could find the words.

“No, not now. I’m going to be building bridges, not burning them,” he said, a little weaker than he had intended, but painted on his most innocent smile.

“Of course you are. Burning things was last year’s hobby, wasn’t it?” she came back instantly, and the meaning was clear. He could still hear the crackle and pop as the fire had seared through the caravan, the metal bending and creaking under the intense heat. He had watched the flames ravage it until there was nothing left but ash and ruins, and relished every second.

He snapped out of the memory and felt the twist of his gut as the bitterness corroded all rationality. “Think you might be talking to the wrong brother about that,” he said, and watched as Katie’s face contorted into a grimace.

“You’re sick, you know that?” she spat, and the horse beneath her whinnied, startled by her raised voice. She patted the side of it’s neck to settle it again, but she never took her eyes off of him.

“Just because I’m not willing to let him off the hook for everything he does, doesn’t make me a monster.”

“No, but trying to destroy our lives does.”

He laughed, low and hoarse in the back of his throat. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Katie’s jaw set hard and she gripped the reins tighter. “You threatened to kill me.”

“Yes.” The acknowledgement came automatically, and he was a little surprised by just how detached he sounded, like they’d been speaking about nothing more important than the weather.

Her brows furrowed. “You’re not denying it?”

“Why would I?” he asked, revelling in the sudden shift of power which her confusion afforded him. “You were there, and everyone else heard that recording. We all know what I said. But only you know why I said it.” 

I used to wish your mum was still alive because at least she might have got through to you. But now… it’s probably better that she’s not here. She’d hate to see how far you’ve sunk. He could still hear her voice in his head, that day up at Wiley’s when the dust was thick in every sunbeam and Katie had just been standing there, smiling and waiting for him to explode.

She scoffed now, pulling him back to the present. “Please. Anything I said to you was deserved, trust me.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing,” he muttered, his breath just tufts of white air floating up to the sky.

“You won’t wind me up, Robert. Maybe before, but I’ve learnt my lesson since then. You can’t touch us, we’re stronger now.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. She’d always been so sanctimonious, so sure of her own righteousness. “Course you are.”

“We are.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you and him will just ride off into the sunset on your tractor,” he said, smirking. He was glad this still existed within him, this ability to shoot back one retort after another, to disarm and dismantle his opponent with just words alone. He’d wondered, after being with Aaron for so long, if some of that decency had rubbed off on him. He was monumentally relieved it had not.

Katie’s eyes hardened. “You can laugh all you want, but we have each other… and you don’t have anyone.”

Evidently, Katie was still more than able to find his weaknesses as well.

“I have my family,” he responded, and knew instinctively it had been the wrong move.

“What family?” she asked, eyes wide with amusement. “Andy hates you, Diane doesn’t trust you, and the only reason Vic wants anything to do with you is because she thinks Jack would be disappointed in her if she didn’t. Thing is, I’m sure he’d actually be a Hell of a lot happier knowing his daughter was as far from you as possible.”

“You don’t know anything about it,” he snarled, a hand shooting out of his pocket to point a finger at her. It wasn’t enough. This was like being back at Wiley’s again, her taunting him and him just… taking it, because a part of him knew what she was saying was true.

“I know plenty,” she continued coldly. “You’ll break her heart, and we’ll be there when you do. We’ve all gotten wise to you, Robert, and sooner or later Vic will as well. And then you really will have no one.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

She shook her head. “Whatever you say. I’m not going to have it out with you, not when I know I can just bide my time and wait for you to destroy everything like you always do.” She coiled the reins around her wrist and nudged the horse back into a walk, turning the beast round as if to head back up the hill. She only made it a few yards though before she turned back round, and Robert simply stood and waited for her to aim and fire.

“Oh, actually I do have one more thing to say. Whatever game you’re playing with Chas’s son… you should stop now. Because the minute he gets hurt because of you, that whole family will come down on you like a tonne of bricks.”

He hadn’t expected it, but then he never really did where Katie was concerned. She’d always had a habit of sneaking up behind him, sliding the blade right between his ribs in one, sure move that left him breathless.

“I’m not playing any games. He’s just a friend,” he replied, his thoughts fogged over as the shock numbed him. How did she even know Aaron was staying with him? Had she met him? Had they talked? Or was it Chas who had sewn the seeds, determined to drag her son back into the bosom of the Dingle family?

“You don’t have friends, Robert. You use people and then you ditch them. But they won’t let you do that to Aaron, not to one of their own.”

Aaron had said the same thing, hadn’t he? I’m one of them now, that’s what he’d said in the pub. God, why did it hurt so much to hear it said again?

“I’m not like that.”

Her laugh was mocking and hostile. “Of course you are. And he’ll see it too, just like we did. I mean, there’s no way he’s going to stay with you, not once he knows what you’re like.”

Did she know? Had she worked it out somehow? Was it written all over his face that he was in love with Aaron?

“He’s fine where he is,” he bit back, but there was no venom to the words. He was a lion with its claws removed, no way of attacking without injuring himself further.

“For now, maybe. But he’s back with his family, and they’ll come first for him, just like he’ll come first for them. That’s what family is, Robert. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

It was just like before, that relentless jabbing till he couldn’t breathe with it. She knew just what to say, just where to apply the pressure. He’d been good at it too, but now he saw how weak he’d become. He had nothing, and she knew it.

“Fuck off, Katie.”

She smiled, blonde hair flicking over her shoulder again. “Gladly. I need to be getting back anyway – Vic’s coming round before work to help me plan out dinner preparations for tomorrow.”

He rolled his eyes, tongue sharpening around the retort he was about to deliver, because he was down but he wasn’t out yet.

“I wouldn’t go to any bother on Andy’s account. Pretty sure he’d be happy eating his food out of a trough.”

The dig got him a slight tightening of her jaw and it was enough to make him smile.

“You’re hilarious. No, it’s not just for Andy, though. We thought it was about time we got everyone over to Wiley’s, celebrate us finally moving in. We’ve invited the whole family.”

And just like that, the smile fell away.

The whole family.

We’ve invited the whole family.

The whole family. And that didn’t include him.

“Sounds like it’s worked out just the way you wanted it to, then.” He could barely hear his own voice, didn’t know why he’d said it because he knew exactly how she would respond. But she’d won anyway and he didn’t have enough fight left in him to keep going.

“It does, doesn’t it? And you know what the best part is?” She paused, her smile so easy as she leant forwards over her horse. “Knowing that all your little schemes failed, because we’re still together and you’re on your own. Just goes to show people really do get exactly what they deserve.”

And then she was gone, the horse galloping back up the slope, its hooves scraping across the dirt and stones as Katie disappeared over the ridge. Robert stared after her, just stared and stared with his hands limp by his sides… and felt nothing.

He only moved when he felt the soft tap of rain against his hair and shoulders. He wasn’t sure if it had been seconds or hours that had passed, but he was cold, chilled right to the bone. He ran a hand down his face, wiping the droplets from his cheeks and lashes, then he forced himself to walk. The track was slicker than before, the shower having turned the lane to sludge, and Robert kept to the grass verge, still frosted over and glittering now from the rain.

There was something lodged in his throat, a hard mass which made it difficult to swallow, and the wind beating against him felt like it was taking most of the air from his lungs. His head spun, Katie’s words splintering like shrapnel and embedding themselves deep in his mind. Nothing had changed. He still wasn’t welcome, he never would be, and this proved it. They didn’t want him. No one wanted him. Not even now, not even when he’d tried so hard to be good. He’d been honest, he’d told Aaron everything, told him he loved him and… It just wasn’t enough. None of it was good enough.

He stopped, breathing hard, and felt his legs give a little. He grabbed hold of the fence post, shards of wood stinging against his palm but he only gripped harder, bending over as he desperately scrabbled for control over his frantic heart.

In front of him, buried deep under the frost but still visible, was a stubborn flower. He focused on it until his breathing slowed, the violet petals so delicate and shrivelled from the cold, and then reached out and plucked it from the icy blades ensnared around it. He twirled the stem between his thumb and index finger, a childish gurgle of laughter bubbling in his chest as he held the flower up to his face. The petals drooped badly, barely any colour left in them at all, and Robert plucked one and held it on his fingertip.

“You love me,” he murmured, letting it fall to the ground before plucking another.

“You love me not,” he said, quieter this time. He held the petal for a heartbeat longer and then let it drop as well, this time watching it flutter down until it landed on his shoe. He repeated the process until only one remained. His cheek muscles contracted into a smile, but he was sure he felt more like crying.

“You love me not.” It was said with the weight of acceptance heavy on each word, and he dropped the stem, shivering a little as he made his way down the lane and towards the village.

***

It was just after half-five when Robert heard the footsteps crunching across the gravel. His chest tightened immediately and he dropped the knife he’d been using to chop up two red peppers. Keys jangled from outside and then the front door opened, Aaron stepping into the hallway in… in blue overalls.

“Robert?” he called, shrugging off his black hoodie. He sounded normal, like it was just any other day.

“In here,” Robert said, breath catching slightly, and when Aaron turned he couldn’t even bring himself to smile. He felt like he might pass out.

“Hey.” Aaron reached the kitchen doorway and then stopped, one shoulder leaning against the frame. His eyes were soft, forgiving, and it just made everything worse.

“Hi.”

“What’re you doing?” he asked, gesturing to the chopping board and the vegetables in various states of destruction. Robert picked up the knife again and started chopping, ignoring the way his fingers trembled slightly against the cold, metal handle.

“I went to David’s, got some stuff in for dinner. Thought I’d cook,” he explained, keeping his eyes on the peppers. His pulse punched a heavy beat against his throat and he swallowed once, then again.

“Right.” There was something in Aaron’s voice, a reluctance which made Robert look up. It was Aaron’s turn to look away.

“If you’d prefer take out-”

“No… it’s just…” He looked up then, and it was guilt Robert saw now. “Adam came by the garage today and he asked me to go to the pub with him.”

I mean, there’s no way he’s going to stay with you, not once he knows what you’re like. Katie had said it only today, and now it was coming true. Robert had shown Aaron exactly who he was, and Aaron was fucking running.

“Oh. Yeah, okay,” he forced out, pressing the blade into the soft, red skin of the pepper and slicing into the juicy flesh.

“I can tell him I’m busy.” There was that same reluctance to his tone, the one that told him Aaron had no intention of staying here when he could be out with his new best friend.

“No, don’t do that. You should go,” he replied evenly, his ribcage shattering as his heartbeat rocketed.

Aaron stepped into the kitchen, his boots heavy on the floorboards, and Robert just kept chopping the pepper into smaller and smaller pieces, refusing to look up.

“I don’t have to.” He sounded so gentle, and Robert could only imagine what those blue eyes looked like under the weight of all that guilt. Maybe they were even watering, just bright, clear pools which shimmered with an apology his tongue was evidently refusing to say. Robert wouldn’t make him say it.

“You should go,” he said, more forcefully this time, scooping up the chopped vegetables and dropping them into the pan where they immediately began to sizzle from the oil. He could only just see Aaron out of his peripheral vision, but he flinched visibly from the sudden burst of noise.

“Okay,” he replied, a little shakily. “I mean, I won’t be out long. Maybe we could have a late dinner or something? Or we could do it tomorrow?”

They wouldn’t do it tomorrow. If they had sat down tonight, talked it all through, then maybe… But that wasn’t happening, and Robert didn’t have enough strength left to hope. He’d lost him, and this was just Aaron letting him down gently.

“Yeah, exactly. We’ll do it tomorrow,” he agreed, grabbing a wooden spoon from the drawer and beginning to stir. The oil spat out at him and burnt his bare arm. He didn’t make a sound.

“Right. Great, I’m just gonna take a shower, then.” The footsteps retreated back towards the door and Robert set the spoon down, finally letting his gaze rise upwards.

“Everything all right, then?” he asked, willing Aaron to just do this for him, to give him this one sliver of acknowledgement that he wasn’t mad, he wasn’t imagining things. To tell him once and for all if they were safe… or about to fall from a precipice.

But Aaron’s face was like a startled animal frozen in the beam of a headlight, all wide eyes and rigid bones. “What?” he asked, and the fear had Robert backing down immediately. He just wasn’t brave enough to push it, not when he was fairly sure what the answer would be now.

“At the garage? Everything all right?” he amended, keeping his tone as calm as possible. He could smell the peppers and onions burning in the pan but he didn’t bother to stir them. It would all be going in the bin in a second.

“Oh. Yeah, everything was fine,” Aaron replied, shoulders relaxing as he pulled off his hoodie and slung it over the back of the chair. “Cain’s doing my head in already though.”

Robert let the corner of his mouth quirk upwards, told himself that he could hold this pretence a little longer. “I bet.”

There was a drawn out silence, Aaron shuffling in the doorway like he wanted to say something, and Robert waited. He waited and he willed Aaron to be the courageous one, to take that step, to just end this.

“Right. I’ll just go… take a shower.”

He sighed, not loud enough for Aaron to hear, but enough for his head to droop a little as he turned off the hob.

“Okay,” he replied, even as he heard footsteps further down the hallway and the bathroom door opening. He didn’t look up until it clicked shut a few seconds later and the water began to run. The vegetables were charred and black and he ran the tap under them, flooding the pan until the smoke and steam made him choke. Then he poured it away, scooped out the remnants into the bin and heaved himself into one of the chairs.

When he comes out, just say it. Tell him it’s over, tell him it’d be better if he found somewhere else to stay. Don’t let him make the first move.

He rubbed at the back of his neck, the shame and guilt and fear all working into his muscles, making them tight and sore. The dread was so heavy in his stomach that he almost wanted to be sick just to get rid of it. How could this be happening? How could any of this be happening?

Something vibrated to his right, muffled but still audible, and he flicked his gaze over to Aaron’s hoodie. No one ever texted him. Barely anyone had Aaron’s number, except Robert and possibly his mum and Cain. Maybe it was one of them, begging him for no doubt the hundredth time to pack Robert in and come live with them.

He strained an ear, listening for the sound of the shower going off but it kept going, and Robert leaned across and slipped the mobile from Aaron’s pocket and switched it on. It was a text, the only notification visible on the lock screen. He couldn’t read the full message, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to, not when the few lines he could read made him want to wretch.

FINN:

I don’t even know what to say. You’re amazing, Aaron. Really, I mean that. I don’t know what I’d have done without you...

So, Katie had been right all along. Robert really had lost him.

Chapter Text

Aaron had almost forgotten what it felt like, the slow, cold spread of paranoia which worked its way into his muscles and shook him to the bone. He had to keep his eyes open in the shower, suddenly sure that Ronnie would appear through the steam if he so much as dared to close them for a second. It was insane, he knew that. It was one text, one vaguely threatening text which he could easily ignore by deleting it and changing his number.

But this was Ronnie, and nothing was ever simple with him. The text would only be the beginning, and after that would come all manner of dangers. Half the boxing club might appear at his door within the next day or so, willing to beat the shit out of him if he didn’t come to heel. Or maybe they wouldn’t go after him. Maybe they would go after his mum, or Cain, or someone more defenceless like Belle or Sam. Or maybe they would attack Robert. After all, he was Aaron’s weakest link.

Just the thought of it made his head spin and he switched off the water, pressing a hand to the wet tiles and breathing out harshly through his nose. All he had wanted to do was protect Finn, to keep him from stumbling any further down a path Aaron knew only too well. But now he was up to his neck in something he didn’t even properly understand. The damage had already been done, and it was only a matter of waiting to see what came next.

He dressed quickly, though the last thing he wanted right now was to go and meet Adam in the pub. He wanted to hide in a dark corner and pray Ronnie didn’t find him, but that wasn’t an option. He needed to keep himself together, needed to tough it out.

Something clinked in the kitchen and Aaron followed the noise until he reached the doorway. Robert had his back to him and he was pouring a generous amount of whisky into a tumbler.

“All right?” he asked cautiously, shifting into the room and pulling on his hoodie which was still draped over the back of the chair.

Robert turned and nodded, swallowing a mouthful of the honey liquid in one fluid movement which showcased the pale stretch of his neck. “Think your phone went off,” was all he said, eyes flicking from Aaron’s down to the pocket he now had his hand in, fishing for his mobile.

It was Finn, thanking him for all he’d done. Aaron wanted to feel relieved, he wanted to be glad that he had at least helped one person, but it only served to make his pulse beat at a sickening rhythm.

“Just one of those stupid PPI messages,” he lied, deleting the text from his phone before his eyes focused in again on Ronnie’s message. The floor lurched beneath his feet and he pressed his hip into the counter to steady himself, eyes trained on the words which were already burned into his mind.

“Hate those things,” Robert murmured, and he’d turned back again, pouring a second glass. Aaron frowned, pushing his keys into his jeans pocket.

“You sure you’re all right?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. This was about last night, and about Robert’s obstinate refusal to even mention what he’d said ever since. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it, maybe he would just as soon have erased the entire thing from both their memories. But Aaron could still hear Robert’s voice ringing through their darkening bedroom, crying out the words Aaron had once longed to hear from someone, anyone, so long as they meant them. Maybe Robert regretted saying them at all.

“Yeah… it’s been a long day,” came his reply, every word stilted and drawn out. He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge Aaron’s presence at all, the message loud and clear despite the silence.

“Right. I’ll head off, then.”

He slipped back out into the hallway, tugging on his shoes and pulling open the front door. Robert was pouring a third glass and Aaron wanted to roll his eyes or throw something at his head, anything so that he would turn around. But he had so little fight left in him, and so he simply stepped out into the main entrance and let the door slam shut behind him. It echoed with a finality which had Aaron shuddering as he made his way outside into the frozen, evening air.

***

Adam was propped up at the bar when got to the pub, laughing languidly across to Vic who was wrinkling her nose at something he’d said. They looked every bit the newlyweds and Aaron’s chest ached a little for the simplicity of it all. He wasn’t sure he and Robert had ever had that level of normality, or that it was even possible for people like them.  

“You all right, mate?” Adam called over to him once he’d noticed Aaron standing awkwardly just inside the door.

“Yeah, good, thanks,” he replied, nodding to Vic who gave him a soft smile.

“No Robert?” she enquired, and Aaron should have expected it but he hadn’t, and so his tongue fumbled over yet another lie.

“He’s in the office tomorrow so he’s getting an early night.” He hated himself for it, hated how easily it came to him in the first place. He’d never been good at lying, always hesitating beforehand and looking guilty as sin straight afterwards. People saw straight through him. But apparently he was getting better, because Vic sighed and shook her head sadly.

“He should find a job closer to here,” she said, twirling a beer mat round in her hands. “That way he wouldn’t have to commute so much. He could spend more time in the village.”

“Maybe he will,” Aaron replied, despite the fact he had no idea whether that was something Robert wanted, or if he intended to stay in Emmerdale long enough for that to be an option. They hadn’t talked about the future, not even in passing, not even after Robert had said he loved him.

Aaron quickly ordered a pint from his mum to stop his mind lingering any longer on Robert’s soft, lean body beneath his, those strong hands gripping his hips as they arched into each other. It was like a dream, a distant, faded thing which Aaron couldn’t quite connect to anymore. Just a fantasy.

“Right, lad, let’s get sat down,” Adam said once they had both got their drinks and a couple of menus. Vic kissed him quickly on the cheek before heading back through to the kitchen, and Adam and Aaron found a corner booth near the back of the pub. Aaron could sense his mum watching him from the bar, grinning like all her numbers had come up on the lottery. He rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to Adam who had already set his menu down.

“So, how did the rest of your day go at the garage? Bet Cain was on at you about all them jokes?” Adam laughed as soon as they were settled.

Aaron forced himself to smile, to relax. “He was all right, think he gave up to be honest. Knows I’d beat him hands down,” he replied, keeping his voice low so Cain, who had just entered the pub and currently talking to Chas, wouldn't overhear. He could talk big, but he didn’t fancy having it out with his uncle and especially not in the pub.

Adam let out another laugh, smacking his hand down onto the table. Aaron forced himself not to jump.

“You and me are gonna be friends, I can tell. Anyone who likes winding Cain up is all right in my book,” he said, downing a good quarter of his pint before wiping the foam from his upper lip.

“You’re easily pleased.”

Adam beamed. “Yeah, Vic says that an’ all,” he replied then gave Aaron a sly wink which had him rolling his eyes.

“You two been together long, then?”

“On and off for a while, but we got married last June,” he explained, leaning forwards as if eager to talk more about her. Aaron couldn’t help but find it endearing, and a relief to know that Vic had someone so utterly besotted with her. She deserved that.

“You seeing anyone?”

Aaron almost choked on his pint, his thoughts immediately halting on the image of Robert, stretched bare on the bed with Aaron straddled across his soft, freckled hips.

“No, not really,” he said, trying to be as vague as he possibly could. He’d never intended for this conversation to turn back on himself.

“Well, there’s not a load of young people round here, big shocker I know. But I’m sure I can be your wing man if you want to head into Hotten one night. Sure we can find you one girl who’s half-blind.”

Aaron forced a smirk even as he inwardly sighed, reminded again of how many times he would need to have this conversation in order to set the record straight.

“Not really my area, mate,” he said, and waited a few beats before it seemed to dawn on Adam what he meant.

“Right! Well, not sure I’d be as good a wingman for… that, but I could give it my best shot!” he exclaimed, grinning again, and now Aaron couldn’t help but laugh, the relief exuding from his very pores. He had never met someone so relentlessly easygoing, so accepting when others would have judged or ridiculed. With anyone else, Aaron might have questioned that constant cheerfulness, that inability to look at anything in a negative light, but with Adam it just seemed… genuine. He was just so utterly sincere.

“Don’t think you could handle it,” he joked, giving him a sly grin which made Adam raise his eyebrows.

“Oh, yeah? Maybe you’re just worried all the blokes would be after me and not you,” he countered, flexing his arm as if by way of proof. Aaron rolled his eyes.

“Really doubt I need to be worrying on that front,” he replied and then received a gentle kick in the shin which only made him laugh harder. He wasn’t sure when he’d laughed this much. Probably because he never had.

They settled back a little, slipping into a comfortable silence. Aaron was just about to ask what was going on up at the farm when he felt a shadow loom across his shoulder and he turned just as Adam heaved a sigh.

Cain was leaning against their booth, arms folded across his chest and a smirk on his face. “Not interrupting, am I?” he asked, and Aaron rolled his eyes.

“As it goes, yeah, you are,” Adam returned, but then softened as a woman came to stand beside Cain, her curly, dark hair falling in waves around her face.

“I hope you boys are behaving,” she said, her Scottish accent surprising Aaron as she flicked her gaze between Adam and Cain before resting back on him. “You must be the famous Aaron?”

“Uh… yeah,” he stumbled, nodding awkwardly before looking away.

“I’m Moira, Adam’s mum… and Cain’s wife.”

That, Aaron had not been expecting. No wonder the two of them didn’t get on, not when Adam’s mum had gone and married Cain after her husband died. He really had missed a lot.

“You gonna leave us in peace, then?” Adam piped up just as Marlon came over to take their orders. Aaron and Adam both ordered the same thing – a cheeseburger – and Marlon huffed, muttering that no one appreciated his ‘culinary expertise’ and that his seasonal, winter risotto was wasted on all of them.

“Thought we would come and join you,” Cain answered once Marlon had disappeared back into the kitchen, already shoving Aaron to budge down so he could sit. Moira did the same to Adam, though much gentler, and suddenly their casual dinner had turned into a very strange, family meal.

“Cain’s been telling me you’re working at the garage. Is it going well? I hope he’s not been too hard on you,” Moira said, shrugging off her jacket.

Aaron was keenly aware of his uncle sitting very close next to him and stifled the answer he’d been intending to give. “No, he was fine.”

Cain smirked, triumphant. “See, told you I went easy on him.”

“Aye, and I know your version of ‘easy’ and mine are very different,” she replied, scowling at him before her gaze softened.  “Glad he wasn’t too hard on you, Aaron. I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time.” Her dark eyes were soft and warm, melting beneath the ceiling lights, and Aaron no longer had any trouble understanding why Adam was the way he was, not when he had a mother like that.

“As long as he listens and does everything I tell him, he should be all right,” Cain said for him, and Aaron rolled his eyes.

Adam grinned. “Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t taken the job now, eh?”

“Something like that,” he muttered in response and received a punch to the shoulder from his uncle.

“Cain,” Moira warned, and surprisingly his uncle subsided. Aaron liked Moira more and more.

 “You know, you should pack it in now while you still can,” Adam continued, as if nothing had happened. “Come help me up at the farm. Or the two of us could set up on our own.”

“Doing what?” Cain laughed harshly. “You two haven’t got a brain cell between you.”

“Cain!” Moira exclaimed, but turned to her son with a reluctant frown. “Love, I’m not sure-”

“We could do it, couldn’t we?” Adam cut in, suddenly looking intensely at Aaron. He wasn’t sure how they had entered into this discussion, or why he was even being included, but it seemed there was no way to back out now.

He swallowed hard, giving Adam a confused look. “I don’t know…”

“We could! A taxi firm or something. We could totally start up a business, just a couple of cabs to start of with and then-”

“Already tried it,” Chas said, appearing at their booth carrying a pint and a glass of white wine for Moira and Cain who had evidently ordered before they came over to join Adam and Aaron.

Aaron furrowed his brows, wondering when his mum had set up her own business, but didn’t have the chance to ask before she headed back towards the bar to serve a new customer.

“All right,” Adam conceded somewhat begrudgingly. “Something else then. We could do it though, if we came up with a good idea.” He was smiling now, grinning even, and Aaron felt a bubble of excitement swell in his stomach despite knowing how utterly insane it was.

“As if the pair of you could come up with anything decent. Stick to the garage, lad, at least you’ll have a regular pay cheque coming in,” Cain said, and Aaron wanted to agree, he did. But Adam was still grinning at him and… he liked the possibility of something more, something better just on the horizon.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know anything,” Adam said, glaring at Cain before turning back to Aaron. “What d’you say? At least think about it. Could be mint, especially if we hit on a goldmine.”

Aaron laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t even know me.”

Adam shrugged. “What’s there to know? Anyway, Vic says you’re the best and she’s right about everything. Go on, say you’ll think about it!”

He looked so eager, practically jumping in his seat as he smiled, and Aaron found himself nodding despite himself.

“Right, fine. I’ll think about it.”

He felt Cain twist in his seat and didn’t need to look round to know he was glaring at him. “Oh, well, you just let me know when you plan on sacking in your perfectly good job with me, eh? I was only a stop gap, apparently.”

“I’m only thinking about it.”

“Yeah, for now!” Adam pushed in, laughing louder now. “But once he sees what a top idea it is, then he’ll be chucking in the garage for a chance at a few million!”

Moira gave her son an exasperated look. “All right, Adam. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“I’m not. No harm in aiming big though, eh? Especially not when you’ve got us two geniuses in charge!”

Aaron didn’t say anything but his cheeks ached from smiling and something fluttered in his chest, something which he vaguely recognised as being hope. It was the first time, he realised, that he had made any definitive plans for the future, and it felt good knowing he had something to look forward to, something that was just for him.

“You all right, son?”

His gaze shot up just as Zak and Lisa appeared behind Cain’s shoulder, the two of them giving him slightly world-weary smiles.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks,” he answered, suddenly feeling a little hemmed in as Cain got up to let Zak and Lisa slip in beside him. He’d always made a habit of sitting at the end of an aisle, close to the doors, always with one eye on the exit just in case. He didn’t like the feeling of knowing he couldn’t run even if he needed to.

“Little birdie told me you started your first day at the garage today,” Lisa said, leaning round Zak to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Didn’t give you a hard time, did he?” Zak asked.

Cain gave an irritated grunt. “What makes everyone think I’d have given him a hard time?”

“Yeah, I wonder,” Adam muttered into his pint before hissing as Cain kicked his leg under the table.

“Oi, watch it, sunshine!”

“Cain,” Moira snapped, but gave her son an equally withering stare which Adam backed down from immediately.

“It was fine. He was fine,” Aaron answered if for no other reason than to calm the mood.

Lisa nodded, pulling off her threadbare gloves and shoving them into the pocket of her coat. “Good. Bright boy like you won’t have any trouble, I’m sure.”

“Thanks,” he replied, feeling his cheeks flush a little. “How’s… how’s Belle doing?”

“Oh, she’s well, love,” Lisa said, brightening immediately. “Not long started up at the factory, wants to work her way up the ladder, maybe become a manager one day. Don’t know where she got her brains from!”

“She’s a good kid,” Cain interjected, and Aaron almost had to do a double-take at the softness to his tone. So he did have a heart after all.

“She is,” Zak agreed, “and she’s done so well, all things considered.”

The table fell quiet and Aaron looked around them, wondering what he had missed. When he had seen Belle last, she had looked well, just like any other teenager did. But the faces of the people around him told a different story, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

“Is she all right?” he asked hesitantly.

Lisa sighed, nodding reluctantly. “She’s getting there. She’s had a lot on her plate, more than anyone her age should’ve had to deal with. But she’s getting help now, which is the main thing.”

Aaron still didn’t understand what that meant, but he didn’t want to push it, not when it seemed like such a difficult subject. He’d ask his mum later, maybe.

“Um… you know if you’re having a family gathering, you’re supposed to tell the whole family, right?”

They all turned, and Aaron vaguely recognised the woman standing at their table, blonde hair draped over her shoulders and a smirk playing on her lips. It was the sort of expression he’d seen Robert wear many times.

“It’s not, and even if it was, you wouldn’t be invited,” Cain bit back, shoulders tensed as if ready for battle.

“Oh, that’s charming, that is,” she replied before her eyes focused in on Aaron. “Well, who do we have here, then?”

“It’s Aaron, Chas’s son,” Lisa said for him, though even she looked a little more uncomfortable than before.

The woman’s eyes widened before she let out a startled laugh. “God, last time I saw you you were about this high,” she said, gesturing to her hip before giving him a proper once over with her eyes. “Proper man now, though, aren’t you?”

His cheeks reddened again and he told himself it was just the heat and having so many people surrounding him.

“Hi,” was all he could manage before he had to duck his head again. It only seemed to amuse her more.

“God, and shy, too! Definitely didn’t take that off your mum! Not sure you took that off any of us, come to think of it.”

It was the ‘us’ which put the last piece of the jigsaw in place. She was family, then.

“This is Charity,” Moira helpfully informed him, but he’d already worked that much out for himself.

“Yeah, I figured,” he said quietly, giving her a proper look now. He could just about remember her, not enough for any memories to come back, but he could hear the echo of her voice bleeding through from years gone by, the barest hint that he had known her when he was a child.

“Gonna let me sit down then, or what?” she asked, now poking Cain’s shoulder with a playful smile tugging at her lips. It looked a lot more like she was kicking a hornet’s nest.

“Not sure we asked you to join us,” he growled, still not looking directly at her.

“Oh Cain, just let her sit down,” Moira sighed, and Aaron wondered what, if anything, had gone on there. He knew that Debbie was Cain and Charity’s child, knew that they had shared a love/hate relationship for the entirety of the time Aaron had belonged to the Dingles, but now… it felt like he was missing a huge chunk of knowledge about the people who were supposed to be his family. That was his fault though, he thought. He should have been here to see it happening, rather than hearing it all second-hand years after the fact. It made his gut ache, knowing how much he’d missed, and his mind turned again to Shadrach, the grandad who Aaron had looked up to despite knowing he was a shambolic, drunken mess. He had never got to say goodbye…

“Now, Aaron, important questions first: single or attached?”

His attention snapped back to Charity who was smirking again. He wondered if it was just her default expression.

“Charity!” Moira exclaimed, strangely affronted, and Charity roared with laughter.

“I’m not asking for myself! God, you have such a low opinion of me, Moira.”

Moira gave her a knowing look. “Aye, and I wonder why that is.”

Charity winked and then turned back to Aaron. “No, just curious. So?”

“I’m… not seeing anyone,” Aaron said nervously, and it was no easier this time than it had been with Adam or his mum. The lies stuck in his throat, clogging it 'til he struggled just to breathe.

“Well, we’ll fix that soon enough. You’re not bad looking, seem sweet enough, got all your own teeth… Sure we can find you someone.”

Cain dug his elbow into her side and she pretended to wince in pain. “Think he can find his own girlfriend. Doesn’t need your help.”

“Think he’d need quite a bit of help to find himself a girlfriend.”

Aaron’s head shot up and Adam did the same, suddenly realising what he’d said. All eyes turned on him and Aaron instantly shrunk into himself. This day was rapidly going downhill.

“Now that is a turn up for the books!” Charity gasped, clapping her hands together. “Who would have called that cause my radar was way off!”

Cain turned in his seat to look over at Aaron, his stare accusing. “What, you?”

“Cain-” Moira started but he cut her off with a shake of his head, still looking halfway between horrified and confused.

“No, I was just saying-”

Aaron huffed a sigh, fingers curling into fists as he squared his shoulders and stared Cain dead in the eye. “Yeah, I am,” he said defensively, waiting a beat or two to see if his uncle would challenge him on it, but Cain seemed to have lost all ability to speak.

Charity, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have that problem.

“This is brilliant!” she exclaimed. “Manchester’s got a great gay scene, I’ll take you one weekend, make a proper night of it. God, me and you are gonna get on, Aaron, I can tell.”

Cain snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in long enough to shoot her a glare. “All right, Charity, I doubt he’d want you crowding round him.”

“What, and he’d want you there instead, would he? Glowering at every bloke who so much as looked his way?” she countered.

“Doubt he’d want either of you there, to be honest,” Adam grumbled, still looking incredibly guilty.

“Pretty sure I can speak for myself, actually,” Aaron cut in, now glancing between them all. “And I’m fine, thanks. I don’t need anyone holding my hand.”

Charity shrugged, evidently not put off. “Well, let me know when you change your mind. I know the bouncers at some of the gay clubs, could get us in for free!”

“There’s an offer you can’t refuse,” Moira joked, giving Aaron a warm smile which immediately put him at his ease despite Cain’s still frozen presence next to him.

Zak cleared his throat and leant forwards so he could meet Aaron’s gaze. “So… you’d have a- a boyfriend, that right?”

Lisa gave his arm a quick smack before rounding on Aaron herself. “Don’t you pay any mind to him, I’ll explain it all to him later. Just as long as you’re happy, love, that’s all that matters.”

“Thanks, Lisa,” he said, trying very hard not to let Zak and Cain’s stares get the better of him, despite desperately wanting the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“Right,” Cain said, finally turning away from Aaron and back towards Moira. “Who needs a drink?”

I wouldn’t say no to a double-whisky, he thought bitterly but didn’t manage to get a word out, having just registered that something was happening up at the bar.

“What, my money not as good as everyone else’s?”

Aaron turned instinctively at the raised voice, recognising it instantly despite being sure he had misheard. But he wasn’t wrong. Standing at the bar, swaying slightly as he brandished a £10 note at Chas, was Robert.

Here we go, Aaron thought with a sinking of his heart.

Chapter Text

Aaron had lied to him.

And not just a white lie, but a fucking colossal detour round the truth. And he’d done it with such ease, as though he wasn’t really thinking about it, like he wasn’t eaten up with guilt or shame or fear.

Robert downed another tumbler of whisky, hand shaking, and then pushed the glass into the sink where it clattered against the metal basin before rocking loudly to a halt just over the plughole. He was drunk. He couldn’t feel it quite yet, but the burn in his chest told him it wouldn’t be long. His car keys were in the bowl on the kitchen counter and the reckless part of him wanted to grab them and drive off; find a club or a bar somewhere and pull the first person he saw, drag them back home, flaunt it in front of Aaron that he wasn’t the only one who was desirable, that he wasn’t the only one who could move on with someone else.

But he couldn’t. And he hated himself for that. For being so weak and pathetic and for just pining as though he were a lovesick teenager and not a grown man. He hated himself so much, wanted to smash everything in their whole goddamn flat till he was left with just the rubble of their lives scattered around his feet.

Their flat. Their bedroom. Their whole fucking future which was now just ashes in his hands. And Aaron had burned it all down. It hadn’t been Robert as he had always assumed it would be. He hadn’t fucked it up. And that made it so much worse because it had blindsided him so spectacularly. He just hadn’t thought about the option of someone else hurting him... because usually he stuck the knife in first.

But this… this hurt.

And it wasn't just pain. Pain he could have lived with; pain he had felt a thousand times over. This wasn’t just agony, it was fear as well. He was fucking terrified because this proved what he had always thought but had never been absolutely confirmed. That he was unlovable. That, if given the option, the people he cared about would eventually leave him. That no one would stick around once they saw him for what he was, especially not when they could inevitably find something, or someone, better.

He should have known, but he hadn’t. He’d trusted Aaron to stay, had believed when he said he would, and now this was the result. An empty flat and a broken promise.

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and stilled when he felt the dampness against his cheeks. He didn’t look in the mirror in the hallway, not wanting to see the reflection, and so he scoured his skin with his sleeve and blinked the remaining tears away. He wouldn’t cry, not about this. He’d swallow it down, finish the rest of his bottle, and then he’d leave.

Ollie could put him up for the night. Or he could book himself into a hotel in Leeds, sleep it off and forget Aaron fucking Dingle. He could do that. Erase it all and start afresh, just like he had done before. It would be good for him. It was what he needed.

No, the voice in his head hissed, you need him.

The whisky bottle sparkled under the light of the moon, sending amber waves rippling across the back wall of the kitchen, and Robert lurched towards it, grabbing the cool neck and tipping it back towards his lips. It didn’t even sting as it went down now, his throat entirely immune to the feel of the whisky seeping deeper into his veins. He felt the weight of it clinging to him, a warm, cloying pressure which had him pulling at the collar of his shirt despite the fact he was physically shivering in the darkness.

Just one of those stupid PPI messages.

It twisted inside him, mangled and rotten, polluting everything else that had been so good about them. Why couldn’t he have just told him? Robert had been honest, more honest than he had ever been with anyone else, but Aaron couldn’t do the same. And then he’d walked out. He’d lied and then he’d left.

Adam came by the garage today and he asked me to go to the pub with him.

Robert looked again at his keys, thought about just driving and driving until he found what he was looking for. But he knew that wouldn’t work, because what he wanted was right here… and he was going to get it back.

***

He couldn’t breathe.

The pub was so warm, clamouring bodies jostling for space at the bar and clustered around tables, packed in tight like sardines. Everyone was here, the whole fucking village had congregated just to watch Robert’s descent.

No one turned when he entered or when he slid in at the very corner of the bar. He was a ghost, moving amongst the living, an observer rather than a participator. His eyes scanned the tables, searching for the one face amongst the many that would make everything better. He got the back of a head instead. The back of a head and shoulders that were rising and falling as he laughed.

Aaron never laughed. He sometimes got this soft look in his eye in the morning, maybe rolled his eyes while smirking which meant he found something funny. He smiled at Robert, reluctantly but he still did it… But he didn’t laugh. Not like that. Not like the crushing weight of his past had suddenly been lifted. Like it had never been there at all.

Adam was laughing, too, almost jumping up in his seat as he grinned at Aaron while Moira looked on with a weary expression on her face and Cain… Cain was sat next to Aaron, shaking his head before swallowing another mouthful of his drink. They were so similar. Dark and brooding, grit under their nails, never saying anything… not even when it mattered. A Dingle through and through, he thought and rubbed a hand across his face.

When he looked back over, Zak and Lisa were at the table and Cain was standing up to let them in. Aaron hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting them here. He’d only said Adam. But this looked more like…

He’s back with his family, and they’ll come first for him, just like he’ll come first for them.

The first wave of nausea hit him square in the chest and he had to grip the bar just to stay upright. God, he’d had too much. Too much whisky, too much faith, too much bullshit. Aaron had said to him he was meeting Adam. A quick drink and then he’d be home. He’d said they could have a late dinner. But Aaron wasn’t going home, not anytime soon. He was staying here. He was staying with his family.

“Didn’t expect to see you in here tonight.”

He snapped his head round to see Chas standing in front of him across the other side of the bar, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Why?” he asked, the inside of his throat feeling like sandpaper as he forced himself to speak.

She put a few coins in the till before passing the receipt to the customer a few people over to Robert’s right. “Aaron said you were getting an early night…”

His gaze slid involuntarily over to Aaron again, but he couldn’t even feel the betrayal this time. He wasn’t surprised, not anymore. Of course he had lied. What else did he do now?

“Did he? Well, if Aaron said it then it must be true,” he muttered darkly and felt Chas bristle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head. He didn’t need this crap. All he needed was out of his head. “Just get me a drink.”

“You haven’t ordered anything.”

“Well use your imagination,” he said, before looking at her scowl and sighing. “Whisky. Neat.”

There was a pause, not long enough for Robert to look up but definitely long enough for his skin to prickle defensively.

“And you don’t think you’ve had enough?” she asked, her tone dripping with judgement. He fucking hated her. No wonder she was friends with Katie, the pair of them as sanctimonious as the other.

“Not sure that’s any business of yours,” he bit back, hoping she would get the very clear message and just leave him the Hell alone.

Her smirk told him it had gone over her head. “It is if you start causing trouble in my pub.”

“Half your pub.”

She smiled properly at that, as if she’d been expecting it. “And Diane’s just through the back. I’m pretty sure she’d say the same.”

And I won’t be listening to language like that in my pub. If you want a drink in here, you’ll have to calm down first.

No, Diane would never have taken his side. She’d always been exactly like his dad, never faltering from her stern principles… not unless it was Vic or Andy she was dealing with.

“Yeah, pretty sure she would as well,” he replied, the ache in his throat making it difficult to swallow. He needed to sit down, close his eyes. The ceiling lights were blurring together, blinding him. God, why was it so fucking warm in here?

“Right, then,” he heard Chas say and saw her turning to walk off.

“Not sure how you make a profit if you’re convincing customers not to drink,” he remarked, pushing against the dead weight that was his tongue. He needed that whisky. Needed any kind of alcohol. Felt the desperation coil around him like a viper, tighten till he felt dizzy with it.

“I’m not. It’s just you I’ve got concerns about.” And there was that look again, the one which was identical to Katie’s. He wanted to rip the smile off her face.

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” she quipped.

He grinned but it felt lazy, lopsided, like he couldn’t quite get control of his facial features. “Just get me the whisky,” he demanded, but it wasn’t strong enough. His voice was too weak, the words fading at the edges. Chas obviously heard it too because she took a step forwards, eyes slanted in suspicion.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

He yanked out his wallet, slammed it down on the bar. He knew there were people looking at him now but he didn’t care. Let them look, he thought, let them see me. 

“Really? I’ve got the money, so I’m not sure what the problem is.”

“You’re drunk,” she answered, though it was more of a hiss, those dark eyes boring into his, trying to stare him down.

“I’m in a pub,” he said, gesturing around him before coming back to meet her gaze straight on. “That’s sort of the point.”

She shook her head, exasperated, and it reminded him of his parents, of Diane, of every person who had looked down at him like he was a child. A disappointment. Nothing.

“I think you started well before you got in here, judging by the fumes coming off you. Just go home, Robert. Sleep it off. I’ll tell Aaron to stay here tonight.”

The mention of Aaron’s name had him glancing over. It was instinct now, an automatic response, like he was just waiting for the time he looked across and didn’t see him there. There was still a part of Robert that couldn’t quite believe Aaron was real.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said as he drew his attention back to Chas. He could feel a sheen of sweat prickling across his shoulder blades. Everything was too warm, too close, the air too thick.

“I would, yeah.”

He nodded, his mouth impossibly dry. “Bet you’re already trying to convince him to move in here,” he replied, even as his head spun. He wasn’t sure why he’d come here anymore, but it certainly hadn’t been to have it out with Chas Dingle.

“It’s the best place for him.”

That brought him to his senses. Jolted him awake like a sharp shock of electricity straight to his brain. He felt it fizzle and spark inside his head, and his tongue slid across his teeth, sharp as a scythe.

“With you? Is that a joke?” he laughed, breathless.

She looked taken aback and he revelled in it, those few seconds of utter bewilderment which rendered her entirely speechless.

“Excuse me?” she eventually managed, though shakier than before. He enjoyed that, too.

“Hardly mother of the year, are you?” he continued, grinning. “You’ve already left him once-”

“Get out.”

He pouted with faux-hurt, committing her face in that moment to memory. It was fucking priceless.

“Hit too close to the bone, have I?”

She leaned across the bar, pushing into his space, and her fury only buoyed him further. “I said get out.”

He pressed his elbows hard into the wood and swayed towards her until she was forced to step back, her jaw locked in anger. “I’m not going anywhere till I get my drink,” he said, flicking his eyes towards the row of drinks’ bottles along the back wall.

Her cheeks flushed, the rage exuding from her like a heatwave, and Robert rode it out with another smirk which sent her flying back towards him.

“I’ve told you already, I’m not serving you,” she spat, teeth bared like a lioness. She was no threat to him.

“And why do I get the feeling that has nothing to do with how much I’ve drank already?” he returned.

She shrugged, arms folded across her chest. “You can think what you want. Still not getting you anything.”

He was about to come back with something else, another dig, another comment which would push all the right buttons, but there was a sudden burst of laughter from the back section of the pub and it caught his attention. Charity was clapping her hands and laughing almost hysterically next to Cain. Aaron had his head ducked lower, now completely engulfed by his family. He looked like he belonged, like he had always been sat there. Like Robert had never existed in his reality at all.

“You know he didn’t want to come back here, don’t you?” he heard himself say, the words forming in his mouth before they’d had a chance to reach his brain.

“What?” Chas asked sharply, looking over to her son for a fraction of a second before coming back to level on Robert’s blank expression.

“Begged me not to bring him here. Last thing he wanted was to see you again. Any of you. It’s only because I promised him he could stay with me that he even agreed.”

He had never meant to say it. Didn’t even know what good it would do. If Chas told Aaron, that would be it. Over.

It’s already over, the voice in his head whispered and he shrunk away from it, but not enough to stop the echo reverberating inside his skull.

“You’re lying.” She said it with enough bite for it to cause an impact, but Robert saw clearly the fear and resignation in her eyes. It was a look he knew well.

“Honest to the core, you know me, Chastity,” he answered with a shrug, and there was nothing inside him. He was standing on the edge of a cliff and the rocks were crumbling beneath his feet. He could feel them eroding, breaking apart and tumbling downwards. He’d follow soon.

She was staring at him with wide eyes, glassy and distant. He’d got to her, he knew that, but the victory was hollow. It brought him no joy.

“You really are something else.”

He didn’t even hesitate with his response, just pushed it out through gritted teeth: “Coming from a Dingle, that isn’t saying much.”

“You are poison.” The last word choked in her throat and he saw her wobble, teetering on the edge. I’m not the only one on a precipice, he thought. Aaron has brought us all to the brink.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true,” he muttered, the floor tipping precariously. He forced himself to stare back at her, even if her face flickered in front of him. “Or deserved.”

She pressed her lips together, placed her hands on the bar and squared her shoulders. A family trait. “Aaron’s gonna see you for what you are, and then he’ll come back to where he belongs. With me. With his family.”

He’s back with his family, and they’ll come first for him, just like he’ll come first for them.

God, he couldn’t get rid of it. Katie’s voice just kept slamming into him, clinging on despite his repeated attempts to shake her off. She just wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

“Yeah, maybe he will,” he replied calmly, curling his fingers round the edge of the bar. “Or maybe he’ll see you for what you are, and he’ll thank God he got out while he still could.”

Chas looked stunned, her jaw gone slack as she just stared at him, unblinking. Gotcha, he thought, and the corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a half-smile. “Now, why don’t you run along and get me that drink I asked for.”

One beat. Two beats. Three beats…

“Get the Hell out of my pub,” she snarled, turning on her heel and marching towards the other end of the bar.

“Don’t be like that!” he called after her, staggering a little as he drew himself up to his full height. “What, my money not as good as everyone else’s?”

He felt something heavy on his shoulder then, a hand as it turned out when he looked down. The owner, one of the mechanics working at the Dingle garage, looked at him with sympathetic eyes.

“Mate, maybe you should just go,” he said softly, and Robert itched to slam his fist into the man’s face.

“Sorry, who are you?” he asked, shrugging him off and taking a half-step backwards, only to have his back hit against the wall next to the bar.

“I just think, maybe-”

“If I wanted the opinion of the village idiot, I’d have picked one of her lot,” he cut in, nodding towards Chas who was trying to serve another customer despite glaring at him every few seconds.

“Oi, you can’t speak to him like that!”

The woman next to… Dan, his mind helpfully reminded him, shot him surprisingly effective daggers despite being clad in leopard print trouser and a startlingly silver jacket. It sparkled under the lights and he had to look away for a second, the brightness attacking his vision.

“What, am I speaking to the organ grinder now?” he started once he’d regained his focus before turning back to the mechanic. “Look, tell your tangerine missus to wind her neck in before she chips a nail.”

“Dan! Are you gonna do something?” she exclaimed, smacking his arm and looking far too affronted for such a minor insult. Robert rolled his eyes, or as much as he could without wanting to be sick again.

“What?” Dan scoffed, before growing more serious when she stared at him expectantly. “Yeah… Yeah. Look, mate-”

“I am not your fucking mate,” Robert spat, having seen the idiot’s hand about to come and sit on his shoulder again. “I could own you ten-times over with the spare change from my back pocket.”

“Cain!” Chas’s voice carried above the din and he looked over just as Cain stood up, shoving Charity until she moved for him to get passed.

“On it,” he said, zeroing in on Robert and striding towards him.

“And here’s Emmerdale’s answer to Don Corleone,” he laughed, though he barely recognised it as his own. He sounded manic. “Gonna pull my fingernails out one by one? Take a nail-gun to my knee caps?”

“Thought I’d just sling you out on your arse,” Cain replied aggressively, sliding in next to Robert just as Dan and his girlfriend scattered to a safer space. Rats on a sinking ship, he thought absent-mindedly as Cain reached out to grab Robert’s shirt.

He shoved him back, hard, and almost laughed again as he heard a few of the locals gasp in horror.

“Touch me and you’ll regret it,” he said evenly, surprising even himself by how confident he sounded. It wasn’t as though he didn't realise how imbalanced this fight was – Cain could probably kill him with just one blow if he wanted. But he wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that.

“Wanna try me, Sugden? Go right ahead. I’ve been dying to knock you flying, just needed a reason.”

Robert leaned his arm against the bar, more to steady himself than to feign an air of nonchalance, but he was appreciative that it had a dual purpose.

“That’s right. You’ve been sedated now that you’re the perfect little farmer’s wife. Can’t be doing anything without her permission,” he said, glancing momentarily towards Moira who was looking more and more concerned by the second. Maybe she had a right to be.

Cain just smiled, the barest flicker of it in his eyes, and then Robert’s head slammed back against the wall with a sickening thud and his vision blurred, blacking out for a second before coming back into focus with alarming sharpness. Cain’s fingers were curled just under Robert’s jaw, pinning him in place so that he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“Cain!” It was Moira yelling, and the grip around his neck immediately loosened, though he didn’t let go.

“There she is,” Robert croaked, unable to stop grinning. God, he had a death wish. “Go run along back to her like a good little boy.”

The hand tightened again, enough to have Robert’s throat aching, and he saw Cain smirk as he leaned in closer.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Cain!”

It wasn’t Moira this time. It was someone else. Someone Robert had almost managed to forget about.

Aaron.

He was beside his uncle, a steadying hand on his arm, and those blue eyes were staring up at Robert with something which looked a lot like disappointment.

“It’s fine. I’ll take him home. Just leave him,” he said quietly.

Cain gave him a confused look but he let go anyway. “Aaron-”

“Let me handle it,” he interjected, pushing his way between them as some kind of shield. He likely just didn’t want Cain going down for GBH if he didn’t have to.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Robert whispered, his voice barely audible despite the deathly quiet pub.

Aaron rounded on him, his jaw set hard. “You’ll go or it’ll be me kicking you on your arse,” he snapped, pressed in so close that he could smell the beer on his breath, felt the cool rush of it across his cheeks. He looked ready to hit something, and Robert jutted his chin forward almost as a challenge.

“Try it,” he dared, the whole world coming down to just those eyes and that mouth. He’d memorised them, could place them even in his dreams… but they were never as good as the real thing.

“You saying I wouldn’t?” Aaron questioned, and he looked… dangerous. On edge. Like they were two gladiators in a ring and he was fighting for his life. Fighting to win. Like he really would take Robert on if he had to. Maybe he wanted to.

Robert would like to see him try.

“I’m saying you’d come off worse if you did,” he answered, and that got a response, if not the one Robert had expected. Aaron rocked back on his heels and raised his eyebrows. He looked cocky, self-assured. Having an army behind you probably did that. Robert couldn't say for definite - he'd never experienced that kind of solidarity. Or any at all, if he was honest.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he said, and it was quiet, said mostly through his teeth. But Robert knew what it meant. Knew it was a reminder that Aaron was an unknown quantity, that he was unpredictable. He’d already worked that much out for himself.

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re capable of.”

Aaron lost his confidence in a heartbeat, all that bravado replaced with confusion and innocence, like he’d been reduced back down to the snivelling wreck who had turned to face Robert that night, shaking and damaged but somehow still holding on. How had they got to this? When had it all gone wrong?

“Come on, let’s just go. You’ve done enough damage-”

“Me?” he yelled, pulling back as Aaron made to move towards him. “Are you being serious?”

“Robert-”

“That’s the biggest fucking joke I’ve ever heard,” he continued, and Aaron… Aaron just looked at him like he was crazy. Like he was clinically insane. And maybe he was. Maybe all of this was just some terrifying illusion that he would miraculously wake up from.

He wasn’t that lucky.

“What’s going on?”

He heard her despite the fact his head was pounding. Could have picked out her voice amongst a million if need be. Vic was at the bar, gleaming in her chef’s whites, and those wide, innocent eyes glanced from Adam to Aaron before finally landing on Robert. But he was too far gone. She’d hate him anyway, and he didn’t have it in him to stop now. Not even for her.

“Robert… Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”

He turned back to Aaron, noting the plea in his tone, but the words didn’t resonate. You’re better than this. Better than what? he wanted to ask. Better than drunken brawls? Better than petty insults? Better than making a fool of himself just for one scrap of attention from a man who had already moved on to someone else? Was he really better than that?

“You think so?” he asked, and the words were garbled and slurred, the emotions behind them lost and dying halfway down his throat. He couldn’t get in a proper breath and his chest heaved with the weight of all he couldn’t say, all he was so desperate to voice but too afraid to have heard.

Aaron’s hand came to gently cup his elbow and he guided him out of the corner, so slowly Robert almost didn’t realise it was happening.

“Yes,” he said, and the conviction was there, the sincerity. He looked so genuine, so open and warm as though Robert were a sea full of stars he wanted to stare into endlessly, rather than a cavernous abyss that would swallow him whole.

“Fuck you.”

The words were vicious, more vicious than Robert himself knew he could make them, and Aaron backed off, letting Robert go in the process.

“Cain, just get him to leave.” Chas had come round to the opposite side of the bar to join her brother, the two of them like a pair of Rottweilers waiting to tear him apart. Cain took a step forwards and Robert immediately put his hand out to stop him.

“If you take one step closer, I swear to God…”

“Don’t, Cain. I’ve got this,” Aaron rushed, moving again between them.

“You can fuck off as well!” he yelled, pulling Aaron round to face him. “You think I need your help? You think I need saving? That’s not the way we work, is it, Aaron?”

Something registered on his face, nothing anyone else would have recognised, but Robert saw it just before it disappeared. It was fear.

“You need to leave,” Aaron whispered, and there was an edge to him now. He wasn’t soft anymore. Just another illusion, like everything else. Aaron was a kaleidoscope that never stopped twisting and turning. Robert couldn’t seem to get a hold of him before he switched again.

“I’m not the one leaving,” he said, and he felt the hurt bubble up in his chest, threatening to take over. Why would you do this to me? Didn’t I sacrifice enough for you? What more did you want from me?

Aaron didn’t see, or maybe he didn’t want to. He just stared him down again. “Yes, you are. You need to go home and sober up.”

His brain was fogged over, every thought suddenly shrouded and unclear. He shook his head, tried to search for something, anything, but he came out with nothing.

“I came here for a reason,” he tried, but the defeat was thick on his tongue, choking him.

“Yeah, well, I think you’ve made your point.” That was Cain, still hovering on the fringes, waiting to wade in if and when the time came. Or maybe just waiting for Aaron to back off enough so he could knock Robert into next week.

“No, I-”

“Robert, just go, will you?” Aaron cut him off, stepping sideways so that he was now directly in front of his family, his mum and uncle like two pillars around him. An armed guard.

He’s back with his family, and they’ll come first for him, just like he’ll come first for them.

He shook it off but it didn't work. It just kept coming back. It kept fucking coming back.

“You’ve got what you wanted… Hm? That’s right, isn’t it?” he breathed, taking in Zak and Lisa, Adam, even Vic… Christ, even Vic was on Aaron’s side. They all were. He had a whole fucking village looking out for him and Robert was on his own. Why was he always the one on his own?

“None of this is what I wanted,” Aaron said, but he was standing with them and it meant something. It meant everything. Because he should have been standing with Robert and he wasn’t. The battle lines had been drawn and Aaron was on the right side, the good side. Which meant Robert…

“Bullshit,” he spat, drawing into himself, putting up the barriers again. He hadn’t thought he’d need to do that now. Hadn’t realised he’d feel backed into a corner again, not like he had done last time. Not like with Katie.

Somehow, this was worse.

“Why is he still here?” Chas exclaimed, looking to her brother for him to do something but Cain just shrugged, glancing at Aaron. The whole pub was staring at them now, and maybe they could see it, maybe they sensed there was more to this than met the eye. Robert didn’t want them to know, not now, especially not now. But it was all too late. The ground was still crumbling beneath his feet and he couldn’t step back from the edge just in case it gave way completely. He was damned either way. Always had been.

“You’re a fucking liar, Aaron,” he managed, and he couldn’t stop it anymore. All that venom just kept seeping out of him, dripping from his tongue. He was drowning in it. “Not that that comes as a surprise. You lie about fucking everything.”

Aaron stepped closer, shaking his head. “Robert…”

“Lie through your teeth. All the time. Just lie and lie, like fucking breathing. Lie to me, lie to them. Cause you haven’t told them, have you? Haven’t told them any of it.”

He didn’t want this. Neither of them did, could see the fear reflected in Aaron’s eyes. Neither of them were going to walk away from this.

“Don’t. Please…”

His cheeks hurt and he was smiling. He was smiling through the pain. “Got your attention now, don’t I? Am I worth your time yet?”

“What’s he on about?” Cain growled, and Aaron turned his head, looking over his shoulder. Look at me, Robert wanted to scream. Look at me you bastard. I deserve that at least.

“Nothing. He’s just leaving.”

“Maybe you should stop lying,” Robert said over him, and now it only to get a reaction. He just needed Aaron to look at him. “Maybe you should just tell the truth for once in your miserable, fucking life.”

Aaron did. He came forwards, blue eyes so soft and large, just looking up at him, pleading. “Robert, you need to go home. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“You look scared. You look like you’re about to lose something. You want me to show you how it feels?”

This wasn’t him. He’d left this behind the last time, had sworn he’d never become this again. But it was so easy. So easy that he hadn’t even noticed it happening. Maybe it had started long before now. Or maybe it had never really stopped. Maybe this was just who he was. Maybe he was reverting back to his true nature.

You lunatic!

Yes. Maybe that’s what it was. His dad had said it all those years ago, had banished him because of it. Maybe this was what it was like to truly go insane.

“Don’t do this. Please, please don’t do this.”

He couldn’t keep his focus anymore. Aaron was gripping onto his arm, almost shaking him, but Robert couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t feel a damn thing.

“Aaron, love, what’s he saying?” Chas asked, and the words were muffled, like he was hearing them from another room. She turned on him. “You’re upsetting him, you evil, little-”

“I’m not the one who abandoned him,” he spat, coming back into the moment with a flurry of colour and noise cutting through the haze. “I’m not the one he felt he couldn’t turn to. No, I’m the one who took him in. I’m the one who-” Loved him. It was right there, aching to be said. But he’d done that before and it hadn’t got him anything he wanted. It wouldn’t work now, either.

“You’re a piece of shit, that’s what you are.”

Cain was right behind Aaron, chest puffed out like the alpha-male he was. And Robert felt it inside him like a sickness, like a disease. He just needed to be rid of it.

“Yeah? And how do you feel about prostitutes, Cain? What’s your opinion on them?”

The loss of touch was worse than the silence which enveloped him. Aaron wasn’t holding him anymore, but Robert could feel his eyes on him. Knew that he had genuinely said it. That it was real.

“Wh- What?”

“No.”

“What did he just say?”

“Take that back!”

The voices clamoured for his attention but Robert pushed them away, focused on Chas and tuned everyone else out. But he could still feel Aaron there, staring at him. A ghost on his peripheral vision, just like he had been that night when Robert had driven away.

Robert only hoped he wouldn’t be the type to come back and haunt him…

That’s what he’d thought, a lifetime ago now. Maybe he would have been better off if that had ended up being true.

“I told you, I’m the only honest one in here,” he said, and he could feel himself tipping, knew it would only need one final push for him to go right over the edge.

“Unlike your precious whore of a son.”

And just like that, the world beneath his feet ceased to be.

He was free-falling.

Chapter Text

It was as if a bomb had gone off.

His head was filled with a shrill whine which cut out everything else, and the snow which swept towards him in flurries looked more like ashes on the wind.

Cold air snaked round his neck like a cord, pulling tighter and tighter till he was suffocating with it, the breath knocked out of him. He tripped down the steps of the Woolpack, shin hitting off one of the outdoor tables, and then he was running. There was barely any feeling in his legs, boneless and quivering as he sprinted up the road. All he knew was that he had to get away. As far away from here as he possibly could.

The road pitched upwards sharply or so it felt to his dragging feet and he stumbled, hand out to steady himself as it scraped along the tarmac, his knee bumping off the hard road surface. He was still too close to the pub. He needed to keep going, just in case someone came after him. He needed to disappear.

There was a rumble and clatter from somewhere in the distance and Aaron picked out the soft haze of white through the dusk. Headlights. He could just pick out the bus stop's silhouette against the darkness and Aaron knew, this late on, that it was probably the last journey of the day. He had some change in his jeans pocket, could hear the metallic jingle of it as he rushed forwards, checking for any other cars before diving into the wooden shelter and slumping down onto the rickety bench.

The village was too dark to make out anyone tangible but Aaron kept his eyes trained on the Woolpack door all the same. Cain would be the one to come after him. Maybe he’d want to drag him back for a family lynching. Maybe he’d just kill him on the spot. Either way, Aaron didn’t want to be around to find out. His bridges were well and truly burnt. Now he just needed to escape.

The silence was drowned out by a growling whir as the bus rounded the sharp bend towards the village and Aaron got up, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, his fingers curled around the coins making them hot and damp. He checked again towards the pub and saw a dark figure emerge from the flood of orange light coming from the open doorway. Aaron immediately stepped out of the shelter, legs shaking with panic, and as soon as the bus rolled to a stop he jumped on, hurriedly asking for Hotten and dumping his change into the dispenser before ripping off his ticket. He took a seat at the back, grateful he was one of only three passengers, and pulled his hood up over his head. He kept his eyes on the seat in front of him, refusing to look back at the village he had just been starting to believe was his home.

His phone was in his pocket and he retrieved it, checking through his limited contacts and halting over Robert’s name. His stomach twisted, the betrayal like a blade between his ribs.

Unlike your precious whore of a son.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. After all, hadn’t he feared this day was coming? Hadn’t he kept his distance from his family specifically for this reason alone? But it had always been Ronnie who had told them in his nightmares. Always Ronnie who had sent the house of cards tumbling.

Not Robert. Never Robert.

He touched his cheeks but found them dry, surprisingly. He was too numb to cry. Too numb to do much more than stare at his mobile and wonder how the Hell it had all gone so wrong. He didn’t have the answer. One minute Robert was telling him he loved him and the next…

Why did he do it? Had they all been right, everyone who had said that Robert was nothing but trouble and that he hurt whoever he came into contact with? Was he jealous that Aaron had a family and Robert’s wanted nothing to do with him? Was he so possessive that he didn’t want Aaron to have anyone else? Or was it none of that?

He couldn’t think straight, could barely even see straight. The countryside melted into the darkness outside, the glass against the side of his head near-frozen. He had no idea where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. He had no money, no belongings, and no one to turn to.

But he’d done it before. Picked himself up and survived.

Yes, but you’re forgetting how you survived, his mind conveniently supplied for him and he shuddered. He wouldn’t go back to that. He’d tasted freedom and it had been sweeter than anything else. He’d rather sleep in a ditch than drop to his knees for a measly twenty quid.

But with only… seventy-three pence left, sleeping in a ditch was looking like his only option. He had nothing to sell, other than himself, and he wasn’t going to do that. Which meant a shop doorway was about as good as it was going to get tonight. Tomorrow he would look for something more permanent – a hostel which might take him in or a homeless shelter. He’d find a job, cash in hand of course where no one would ask questions or want any references, and he’d sort it all from there. He just needed to get through tonight.

The journey was shorter than he imagined it would be and soon he was in the town centre, hands curled into his sleeves as he wandered through the ever-darkening streets. He didn’t know the area, had never been here before, and the panic at being lost in an unfamiliar space spiked through him. He pulled out his phone again, teeth chattering against the cold, and scrolled through his contacts again.

Ronnie’s name made him falter, the very idea of running back to him with his tail between his legs enough to make him feel sick. But then he saw another name, one he hadn’t thought of until just now, and he found himself wavering over the call button.

You need to get somewhere warm. If you stay out here tonight, you’ll freeze to death.

He scowled, but he had run out of options. Doss in a doorway or ask for help from the only person who might be in a position to give it. And he was owed a favour.

The first ring made him flinch, too loud against his fragile ear, and he held the phone away from him, eyes closed against the late-night din of cars and revellers stumbling out of pubs and clubs. He tucked himself into an alley, hood still up, and when the ringing stopped, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Finn? It’s me… Aaron.”

***

It took him another hour to scrape enough change together for a bus to Leeds. He’d learnt from experience that you could make some quick money by pressing the RETURN CHANGE button on phone boxes; most people didn’t bother to retrieve the remainder of their money after a call so you could easily make a pound or two just from going round each of them in turn. Then he stood outside a club and waited for a few drunken twenty-somethings to stumble into him. They swayed backwards, confused at the obstacle, but when he explained he’d lost his wallet and needed money for a bus, one of the girls, wobbling precariously in four-inch heels, took pity on him and shoved a fiver into his hand.

“You stay safe,” she said, the words slurred together, and kissed the top of his head before running after her friends, screaming for them to slow down because she had blisters. He watched her go, at once grateful and envious that she seemed to have so few problems in her life. Then again, to a passer-by, maybe he would look the same.

If only they knew, he thought and pushed on, going in search of the nearest bus to Leeds.

Finn had been shocked to hear from him, had spluttered on the line for a whole minute before eventually regaining some control over his words.

“I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d hear from you again. Did you get my text?” he’d asked, and Aaron remembered suddenly the message he’d gotten just before he’d left to meet Adam. It seems a world ago now.

“Yeah, sorry. Things went a bit… crazy my end. Look, I need somewhere to stay tonight. I was just wondering if you had somewhere, or knew anyone who could put me up? Just one night, mind.”

He had waited, praying that Finn would come through because the alternative meant getting pneumonia. The line stayed silent for a few seconds before Finn had cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m… I mean, I do… I have somewhere.”

“Think you could help me out?” Aaron had hated having to say the words. He wouldn’t have done it if he’d had any other options. But Finn was genuinely his last hope, God help them both.

“Aaron, I’m not sure…” The line had gone quiet again, just the steady rush of tyres sloshing through puddles and the intermittent beeping of the pedestrian crossing further up the road. Aaron had shrunk further back into the alley, watching the world go by in front of him. Always removed, always distanced from it. Maybe it had been foolish of him to ever think he could fit in. He wasn’t like other people. This world didn’t accept outsiders.

“You still there?” he’d asked after another few beats of silence, and Finn’s almost strangled confirmation only made Aaron feel guiltier. He knew he was forcing his hand, but there was nothing else he could do. He needed to get as far from Emmerdale as was physically possible. He didn’t know how far his family reached, for all he knew he could have a cousin living two streets up who was about to get a call from his mum or uncle.

“I’m still here. Where are you now?”

“Hotten,” he had replied, “but I can get enough money together to get me to Leeds. Do you think you could meet me?”

The pause had been shorter but no less bearable. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll meet you at the bus station. Walk you… to my place.”

Aaron’s shoulders had slumped in relief, glad to know he wasn’t going to have to resort to stealing to afford a room at a hostel for the night. He had said a rushed goodbye to Finn and had then gone in search of some change.

Now he was safely back on another bus, this time marginally sturdier and less rickety than the country one which had taken him out of the village. There was a teenage boy sitting in the opposite row, his blonde hair shining gold under the ceiling lights, and Aaron had to turn away from him.

He watched as one road bled into another, traced the raindrops on the glass, watched them glow red, then amber, then green as the bus juddered to a halt before starting back up again. Every time his thoughts turned to Robert or to his family, he fought against them, beating them back with harsh refusals. He couldn’t think about it now, and not in public. He needed to be somewhere safe and on his own, somewhere he could curl into himself and let the weight of it pull him under. And he needed to make sure he was nowhere near a bathroom. Hopefully Finn shaved with an electric razor… if he was old enough to shave at all.

There was a vibration in his pocket and his stomach dropped when he realised who was calling.

Robert.

He declined the call and pushed his phone back into his pocket, only to have it vibrate again two seconds later. He ignored it, furiously keeping his gaze focused on the window reflecting the interior of the bus over his shoulder, including the boy with his mop of golden hair. There really was no escaping him.

The buzz stopped and when Aaron checked, there was a voicemail message just waiting to be listened to. He deleted it immediately, along with the five missed calls he'd received. He wanted to erase all trace of him from Aaron’s life. Robert Sugden no longer existed as far as he was concerned.

Leeds Bus Station came into view and Aaron zipped his hoodie all the way up, already shuffling down to the doors as the bus slowed to a halt. He thanked the driver quietly before exiting, the frozen air cutting off his breath mid-inhale.

It felt strange to be back in the city which had been his stomping ground for so long. Every street was familiar, every dark alley connected to some tainted memory which Aaron had hoped to repress. And huddled beneath the glass roof jutting out from the station was Finn, wearing Robert’s blue coat and sliding his glasses up his nose as he pushed himself off the wall.

“Hi,” he said cautiously, and Aaron noted with concern that he was still just as thin as he had been last time they’d met. Aaron could see his pale collarbone peaking out from the transparent white t-shirt he wore.

“Hey. Weren’t waiting long, were you?” he asked, the words coming out in puffs of air against the arctic night.

Finn shook his head. “Not long.”

“Right… well, lead the way,” Aaron said, gesturing for them to start walking before they both froze to death. Finn gave him a hesitant look but eventually put one foot in front of the other. Aaron couldn’t help but steal glances at him every time he dipped beneath a streetlight, taking in his chapped, bloodless lips and dark rings beneath his eyes. He looked worse than before, much worse.

“You still with Ronnie?” he couldn’t help but enquire as they headed west out of the city centre.

Finn hunched in on himself instantly till all Aaron could see of him was his ears sticking out over the collar of Robert’s coat.

“Yeah… yeah,” he muttered, hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. It was a battered old Nokia, scratched and dented, the screen a faint orange, and for some reason Aaron felt a crippling sense of guilt for having asked this poor boy for anything.

“He didn’t get on at you, though? About what happened?” he pushed, eyes scanning the only visible patches of skin he could see and determining that Ronnie hadn’t beaten him… or at least not his face.

“No, he was fine. Think you talking to him must have helped,” Finn replied, sniffing hard against the wind.

“Good. That’s good.” He didn’t know what else to say and so they resumed their awkward silence, the pair of them keeping to a regimented brisk walk as the noise and clamour of the city faded in the background. The further out they got, the darker the streets became and Aaron felt a chill creep up his neck which he wasn’t sure could be attributed to the cold air.

Their footsteps echoed off the rain-spattered pavement, somehow louder in the darkness, and as they weaved their way through narrow street after narrow street, Aaron suddenly found himself remembering the route they were taking. He had done it before, many times in fact.

“You live near the boxing club?” he asked, taking in the familiar street names and feeling a sickening sense of nostalgia for the place he had once called home.

“Hm?” Finn was still on his phone but he looked up when Aaron spoke.

“The boxing club,” he said again. “You live near it? Cause this is the road its on.”

Finn’s eyes widened, as if he hadn’t realised himself where they were going, but he quickly masked it with a nervous smile. “Oh… yeah. One the of the boys there had a room going and he said I could stay there for a while.”

Aaron couldn’t think of even one lad at the boxing club who would have opened up their home to a rent-boy, but maybe it was someone new, someone who hadn’t been tainted by Ronnie’s attitude. He was glad someone had been that generous with Finn. God knows the boy needed it.

“Actually… I’ll need to pop in for a second and ask for the keys. Left mine at home,” Finn continued, his attention back on his phone, texting furiously. Aaron furrowed his brows but nodded all the same, eyes glancing to the concrete building up ahead which he recognised only too well.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Want me to wait here?” he asked, slowing his steps. Finn halted as well, pushing his phone into Robert’s coat pocket.

“You can wait round the back. There’ll be hardly anyone here at this time,” he said, and they started walking again, slower now as they slipped into the alleyway which led round to the back of the boxing club. Finn hesitated again before ducking into one of the side doors and Aaron continued on until he was concealed further back in the shadows. He could remember, not so long ago, leaning against this wall while Ronnie yelled at him, told him how worthless he was for not doing what was asked of him. He remembered retching into the gutter after what would be his final boxing match had ended with him flat on his back and blood pooling in his mouth. He remembered the punters who were generous enough to drop him back at the boxing club and would follow him round to the alleyway where he’d have to sink onto his knees to show his gratitude yet again.

His stomach churned and he dragged his gaze away, focusing instead on the street beyond the alley. One of the buildings opposite was obviously a set of flats and Aaron could see into the ground floor windows, lit up by a flickering television and illuminating the old couple dozing in their floral armchairs. It was strange, because for so long he had never imagined reaching old age… or even middle age. He’d assumed that eventually he’d get on the wrong side of a client or anger Ronnie, or maybe he’d fall into drugs like he’d seen happen to so many others. Then Robert had shown up in his flash car and whisked him away from all that, and suddenly he could see himself growing older, growing happier, more content.

All gone now, he thought and it wasn’t sadness he felt. It wasn’t anything. He was totally and completely numb.

One of the street lights further along flickered ominously and Aaron frowned at it, pushing down that creeping feeling that was crawling up his spine. He checked his phone again, having not looked at it properly since he got off the bus.

37 missed calls. 12 texts. 5 voicemail messages.

He ground his teeth together, imagining just what they would say.

Your precious whore of a son. Yeah, he didn’t need to hear that again. Once was more than enough. But he still found himself unlocking his phone with a sigh, checking to see exactly how many of the messages were from Robert, and how many from his mum. It turned out it was a fairly even split. He even had a text from Adam, but he refused to open that as well.

Can’t be mates with a hooker, was likely what it would say, or something similar. And God knows what his mum-

Something slammed into the back of his knees and he hit the ground, pain flaring up his legs as his cheek hit the tarmac. He heard his phone skitter across the alley, a crack of glass to signify the screen had smashed, but Aaron couldn’t get his eyes to work properly so he could reach for it.

Footsteps. He could hear someone behind him, walking round till they were standing at his shoulder. And there was something else. Something dark and glinting under the light of the moon.

A crowbar.

“Miss me, puppy?”

Oh God. No. No, please. No.

He didn’t look up. Couldn’t. He knew who was looming over him, had heard that voice far too many times in his nightmares to mistake it.

The scrape of metal sent a shiver through him and he fought against the pain still surging up and down his legs. The cold, hard stretch of the crowbar had hit him right behind the kneecaps and he wasn’t even sure he could haul himself upright.

“You know, soon as little Finn told me you were coming by, I thought: this is something I had to see for myself,” Ronnie continued, every word smooth as butter. “Really didn’t believe it. Thought you’d be smart enough to steer clear of this place, after everything you’ve done. Turns out you're just as clueless as the rest of them.”

Aaron saw him crouch down, felt his warm breath close to his temple. He wanted to pull away, slink back into the shadows and hide, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything.

“Always were too trusting for your own good,” he finished, and Aaron heard the heavy thud of the crowbar as Ronnie slammed it hard off the ground. He flinched and another jolt of pain shot up his legs.

“Please, Ronnie…”

For a second, Aaron thought he was the one pleading, but that voice wasn’t his own. It was Finn’s. He sounded close, not close enough to help but Aaron was sure he could see everything that was going on in vivid detail.

“Quiet,” Ronnie snarled, and the crowbar disappeared from Aaron’s line of sight. He knew what was coming.

“I told you what would happen if you came back with your tail between your legs. But that’s half your problem, isn’t it? You never know what’s good for you, Aaron.”

He didn’t have time to brace himself before he felt something slam hard into his ribs. He choked on his breath, the pain blinding him as he curled in on himself, arms tightly wrapped around his stomach. He wanted to be sick but he couldn’t breathe… He couldn’t… He couldn’t breathe.

“See, Finn. This is what happens when you decide to up sticks, when you suddenly get it into your head that you’re better than me.”

His head snapped back as Ronnie’s boot collided with his jaw and he instantly blacked out for a second, the pain exploding in his head as everything else was wiped out. He put a hand out to stop him, to shield himself, but he heard the footsteps circling again and suddenly there was a sickening crack as the crowbar came down on his back.

He heard a scream and knew it was him this time. There was blood in his mouth and it slipped down his throat till he was choking on it, coughing up his lungs despite his broken ribs protesting badly. He was in so much pain that he didn’t know which part of him was worse off, only that it wasn’t over.

“You know why I’m doing this, puppy,” he heard Ronnie say over him, and he felt the tears warm against his raw cheeks. “You know it’s the only way to get through to you.”

Aaron still had his arms wrapped around his middle and he fought against the exhaustion enough to fix his eyes on Ronnie, pleading with him.

“Don’t,” he managed to whimper, his tongue swollen and bloodied. And Ronnie smiled, his head blocking out the light from the moon. And Aaron knew… he knew this was it.

This was the moment he was going to die.

***

“Aaron? Mate, can you hear me?”

He was dead. He had to be.

God, was he dead?

“Aaron? Just nod your head if you can hear me, yeah?”

He groaned, the ringing in his ears almost deafening, and there was something dazzling flickering behind his eyelids. Something blue and bright.

“Okay, he’s conscious. Call ahead and tell them ETA is ten minutes, I want a doctor on stand by.”

He heard the clank of metal and tried to pull away from it, knowing what it meant, but there was something across his arms which stopped him. He groaned again and then there was something pricking his skin and he felt a dull ache in his arm.

“I’ll start him on 5 milligrams of morphine but chances are we’ll need to increase that before we arrive. You coming as well?”

Aaron wasn’t sure if any of it was real anymore. He couldn’t hear the wind and there was something vibrating beneath him, a thrum which had every muscle in his body quivering. He wasn’t on the ground. He could feel something soft at his back and… he couldn’t feel his legs. He couldn’t feel anything. God, he really was numb…

***

“You his friend?”

The thrumming was louder, that was the first thing Aaron thought. Then he heard the soft sniffling of someone close beside him and there was a cold hand tentatively placed over his. You can feel your hand. You’re not dead, he thought, but it brought him little comfort.

“No… Yes. I don’t… We don’t know each other that well. I was just… Oh God, Aaron, I’m sorry.”

Finn? Was that Finn?

“It’s all right,” the unfamiliar voice replied. A woman. Thick, Yorkshire accent. He couldn’t tell anything else. “We’re getting him to the hospital now. Do you know what happened?”

Ronnie tried to kill me, Aaron answered inside his head before his mind stuttered over the possibility that he might actually have succeeded. Maybe this was what it felt like to die. Maybe he was witnessing all of this from outside his body. Maybe he was slipping away even as they spoke.

“He was… beaten up,” Finn said quietly, voice choked and thready. He didn’t sound good.

“You see who it was?”

There was a bloated pause and Aaron waited, wondering what Finn would say.

“No. I got there after it happened.”

Good boy, Aaron thought. Clever.

“Right. Well, you did the right thing calling the ambulance,” the woman replied, though she didn’t sound overly sympathetic. “You know who we can contact for him?”

“I… I got his phone. It was in the alley.”

Shit.

“Might be an idea to look through his contacts, see if we can get in touch with his family.”

No, Aaron thought, but he was already fading again, slipping underwater.

***

“Can I sit with him?”

He was warm. He was really warm.

“Course, love. Did you manage to get any contact information for his family?”

And there was a beeping to his left, like a countdown on a bomb.

“He’s got his mum’s mobile saved in his contacts. Thought I’d ring her now.”

Mum. No, you can’t ring mum.

“Good idea. Try not to panic her, just explain her son’s been in an accident and that she’s to come to the Accident and Emergency department of Leeds General Infirmary.”

No. You can’t call her. You can’t do that.

“Okay.”

No. God, please don’t call her.

There was something soft under his fingertips. A sheet. A mattress. He was on a bed. And there was something else, something heavy and clammy against his skin. Someone was holding his hand.

“Don’t,” he croaked, eyes fluttering open for a second before screwing shut again as the white light blinded him. He hissed in pain, his jaw throbbing and the inside of his mouth was sticky with blood.

“Oh God, Aaron.” Finn was in front of him instantly, his fingers gripping Aaron’s wrist.

“Don’t… call-” he tried again, but the words wouldn’t come. God, he was so tired.

“Aaron, let me get a nurse.”

“Don’t… call… mum,” he forced out, and every breath he took was like shrapnel in his lungs.

“All right,” Finn agreed hesitantly, and Aaron heard the scrap of a chair as he sat back down. “Do you- Who can I call?”

He shook his head, even the idea of it impossible. “No one,” he managed, chest heaving.

“Aaron, you’ll need to call someone. They won’t let you out of here until-”

“Don’t… need… anyone.”

He coughed and suddenly every bone in his body rattled violently, compressing in on his lungs and heart. His thoughts faded, the whole room blurred into just one stretch of white, and he had to grip the cotton sheet to keep himself from falling back into the darkness.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I’m so, so sorry,” he could hear Finn sobbing, and he forced himself to focus, to steady his heart which was ricocheting off his shattered ribs.

“’S fine,” he muttered, running his tongue along his teeth. Some of them wobbled dangerously and he stopped, not wanting to dislodge any of them.

“No, it’s not. God, look what he did to you. I should never… I didn’t know, Aaron. I thought he was just gonna shout at you.”

I was that naïve once, Aaron thought sadly. I’m still that naïve now. I just walked right into it. Didn’t even think. I never think.

“I’m… fine.”

Finn inhaled a shaky breath, his hand finding Aaron’s again. Aaron didn’t have the heart to pull away. “How can you say that? Look at you!” Finn exclaimed, and his fingers were curling round the phone again. He looked so pale, so gaunt. Haunted.

“Don’t… call…” he stammered, fighting the urge to be sick over the side of the bed.

“I won’t. I won’t call your mum,” Finn murmured, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “But I need to get in touch with someone. You’ll need a place to stay. What about this guy… Robert? You’ve got some texts from him. Or someone else?”

Robert… The pull was so violent that Aaron almost agreed on the spot, the desperation to have those warm, familiar arms wrapped around him at once tangible and agonising. You don’t have him now. You never had him.

“No.”

Finn’s shoulders slumped. “I need to call someone. Aaron, please, let me help. Please. I need to put this right.”

“I don’t… need…”

“Just tell me who to call,” Finn cut him off, and he saw the guilt and the fear sparking behind Finn’s eyes.

Aaron didn’t answer, but he raised his finger to one of the contacts on his phone and pressed the dial button. God knows what would happen if they arrived, but Aaron only hoped they'd come alone.

Chapter Text

It was the slap that shocked him out of it.

He’d just been staring at the space on the floor where Aaron had stood a second ago, and then there was the stinging smack across his cheek which had him stumbling back into the wall behind him.

Chas was so close he could smell the trace of her perfume, a finger pointed at his face, teeth bared.

“You tell me what’s going on, now,” she spat, before looking quickly over her shoulder at Cain. “Go find Aaron. Make sure he’s all right.”

Cain didn’t hesitate, shrugging on his jacket and disappearing outside in tense strides. Robert watched him go, wanting to follow, but Chas had blocked off the exit and he knew he wasn’t getting to leave. Not until he answered her.

“It needed to be said,” he murmured, though he didn’t believe it. It was the last thing that had needed saying, the last thing he had wanted to say. But he’d had no choice. Aaron had picked a side and he was going to leave… Robert had had no choice.

Except you did. You could have just let him go. You didn’t need to hurt him.

He shrunk away from the voice, the knowledge that Robert had done the one thing he had told himself he would never do, not with Aaron.

The guilt tore at him, scraping down his chest with sharp nails, digging in until he couldn’t breathe with it. And Chas was just staring at him, incredulous but expectant, as if still waiting for a response. He couldn’t even meet her eye.

“Are you going to tell me what just happened?” she hissed, moving forwards again. He tried to side-step her but realised he had been backed into a corner, literally. Nowhere to run now.

“Speak to Aaron,” he said, trying to manoeuvre himself passed her only to have her hand grip his shoulder stopping him.

“I’m asking you, and you’ll damn well answer or so help me-”

“Chas...” Moira’s hand was on her arm, gentle and coaxing, but Robert could see he wasn’t going to get out until he said something. She had her eyes fixed on him, and any sudden movement on his part would likely result in his decapitation.

“What do you want from me?” he said eventually, pushing the words out despite his tongue refusing to comply. He felt groggy now rather than drunk, the sudden downward spiral having knocked him out of his stupor.

“I want you to tell me what that was all about. What you… what you said.” She was struggling, he could see that. And he was glad in that moment that Aaron wasn’t there – it had always been his worst fear that Chas would reject him, and apparently he’d been right to worry.

“You heard it all,” was all the reply he gave, leaning back against the wall to steady himself. The floor was tipping beneath his feet and he was sure that if he didn’t get to a sink soon, he’d be throwing up on his shoes.

Chas took a step forwards, those dark eyes now a little hazy with tears. “You said… You called him-” She stopped again, the words not forthcoming, and Robert sighed. He wasn’t about to have this dragged out any longer.

“A prostitute,” he supplied, but it was said as quietly as he could manage. He had no intention of making the other villagers privy to what was being said. Bit late for that now, the voice in his head spat, and he felt his skin itch with shame.

It looked as though she had been scalded, as though the word alone had been enough to send her rearing backwards. She shook her head furiously, dark hair getting momentarily caught in her earrings before slipping forwards across her shoulders.

“You’re lying,” she hissed, but he could see that she didn’t believe it. They both knew it was the truth.

“What did you think happened to him?” he found himself replying, the words coming easier now. “He had no one, definitely no family to help him. How do you think he managed? Did you never bother to wonder?”

When the slap came this time, he was expecting it. Maybe he’d secretly been wanting it. The back of his head cracked off the wall behind him and it took him a few seconds to find his balance again, a slightly dull ringing resounding in his ears. When he looked up, Chas was wiping at the corners of her eyes.

“After everything you’ve done, you’ve got no right to judge me.”

She was right. Not for the stuff with Katie because at least then he’d had his reasons. But this? What he’d done to Aaron? No, he didn’t have any right to judge.

“You should go and find him. Tell him it doesn’t matter. He needs to hear that… It’s what he was afraid of,” he said, fishing in his pocket for his keys. He’d go back to the flat and then… he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure what came after that. He just needed to be on his own.

Chas sniffed hard, glancing towards the door before returning her attention to him. “You’re not to go anywhere near him from now on. Understood?”

There was no danger of that. Aaron would never want to see him again, had been leaving even before this. And once his family welcomed him back, as Robert had always known they would, he would be insignificant to Aaron. After all, he’d been a crutch to lean on at most, a stop gap, temporary. Aaron didn’t need him anymore.

“Yeah, understood,” he said, moving towards the exit on heavy feet. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the pub staring at him, including his sister who had said nothing during his exchange with Chas. Robert hadn’t looked at her, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face. He’d been the cause of it far too often.

“And Robert?”

He halted, his hand on the cool, brass handle. Go now, he thought, before she says or does something else to make you feel even worse than you already do. He twisted round anyway, watching intently to decipher what was about to come next. He’d been under the impression that there was nothing more to say.

“I’ll find out from him, you know. Whatever’s been going on between the two of you, I’ll get it out of him eventually.” She sounded serious, determined, and perhaps it would have sent a nervous shiver through him before now. But honestly, he couldn’t have cared less if Aaron had burst in through the door and told the entire village they’d been fucking for weeks. He just didn’t give a damn anymore.

Still, he wasn’t brave enough to do it himself. The confession was a noose around his neck and now he felt his feet slipping, scrabbling, the rope pulling tighter as he struggled to keep himself steady. He’d fall soon, felt it ticking like a countdown in his chest, but none of it mattered anymore. All he could think about was Aaron.

Robert swallowed it all down, gave one last fleeting look over Chas’s shoulder towards the bar but found Vic gone, and then yanked open the door. The night air snatched the breath from his throat and he took a second to stand on the steps, looking out into the darkness as though expecting Aaron to emerge from the shadows. If he had, it would likely have been to punch him, but Robert was sure he’d have taken anything now. As it stood, the village seemed eerily quiet, almost as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen. Robert waited as well, hands pushed deep into his pockets, surveying the long stretch of road, sweeping his eyes up towards the empty bus stop before casting his gaze down towards home.

Not home now, he thought, pushing himself to move. Maybe it never had been, just another part of his life which had been temporary, no matter how hard he’d convinced himself it was real this time.

He got as far as David’s when he saw a sharp flash of headlights cut across the road coming from the garage. He had to shield his eyes and step back into the grass verge to avoid Cain’s BMW swing out from the gravel driveway. It growled against the frozen silence, the exhaust fumes making the remaining stretch of road look almost shrouded in mist, and when Robert saw the driver’s window slide down, he almost wondered if he was about to come face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.

Instead, Cain’s face appeared from the interior of the car, illuminated only partially by the dashboard lights, the rest of his features obscured in shadow.

“You better hope I find him, Sugden,” he said, his voice matching the deep purr of his engine, “because if I don’t, your life won’t be worth living.”

The threat barely touched him, and the reckless, almost manic side of him was tempted to challenge Cain on it, to put his money where his mouth was. But he had no doubt that the village’s resident Bond villain would be more than willing to prove how serious he was.

Either way, he didn’t give Robert a chance to answer, shoving the car into gear and roaring off down the road, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake. Robert watched the hazy, red glare of his brakes before he disappeared round the bend, then continued on towards his flat.

If he had been expecting Aaron to be waiting for him when he got in, that notion was obliterated when the door swung shut behind him. The darkness clung to every surface, its tendrils reaching out as if to fold Robert into its embrace. He kept his back against the door, afraid to even breathe in case it broke the tenuous silence like a chord snapping. He let his gaze wander from the hallway through to the kitchen, one strip of light from the window casting an almost angelic ray onto the empty bottle of whisky still sat on the table.

It didn’t seem real. Any of it. He could no longer trace back his movements to when it had all began, because each time he grasped hold of what he thought was the root cause, it slipped through his fingers like water. Maybe none of it had truly happened. Maybe he was lying on the kitchen floor right now, barely lucid, in the grip of some drunken nightmare which he would wake up from any minute now.

He pushed his coat off his shoulders, teeth chattering against the cold, and let it drop to the floor with a thud, the mobile inside his pocket smacking off the hard wooden surface. He retrieved it slowly, every movement taking twice as long because of his lack of coordination. His thumb awkwardly hit off the screen, finding Aaron’s name in his contacts.

Fear made him hesitate, the idea of him actually answering, hearing his voice, knowing what he would say before Robert had the chance to speak. But that wouldn’t happen, because he knew already Aaron wouldn’t pick up. Somehow, it was a comfort, and it allowed him to place his phone to his ear, listening for the automated voice on the other end.

“Welcome to the O2 messaging service, the person you are calling is unable to take your call. Please leave your message after the tone.”

He cancelled the call before he heard the beep, stumbling back a little at how close he had come to saying something. What could he possibly say now that would make any difference? Aaron had been leaving even before this, there was no way he would forgive Robert now.

And yet, even despite that fact, he still found himself re-dialling, heart in his mouth as he waited for it to go to voicemail. When the beep came the second time, he felt his breath stutter and it took him a second for the white flare in his brain to fade.

“Aaron… it’s me. It’s Robert. I- I just… Please call me.”

He hung up immediately, knowing it hadn’t been enough, knowing nothing would be enough. But he’d said it now, Aaron would see he’d called, and maybe that one act would go some way to showing him that he hadn’t meant to hurt him. Maybe it would help.

He pushed his phone back into his pocket and grabbed his coat from the floor, hanging it up next to the others.

Aaron doesn’t have a coat on, he thought with a frown as he shuffled into the kitchen, his gaze catching on the bottle again, his hand reaching for the thick, glass neck. It was still heavy despite there being only a trace of whisky left inside, and he took one look at the amber liquid sloshing around the bottom and immediately felt his stomach lurch.

Pathetic, the voice inside his head sneered, and there was nowhere to hide from it now. He was on his own, utterly defenceless, and he could feel the hatred rising inside him like bile.

He was leaving you. Why couldn’t you have just accepted it? Why couldn’t you have just let him go?

His hand shook, still gripping the bottle hard as he stared vacantly at the empty table. Something pulsated, heavy and slow, at the back of his neck, and he let his head drop forwards, bowed.

It was shame. It beat into him with sure blows, hitting him at the base of his spine, his chest, against his temples. He felt it bruise his skin and he curled into himself, folding smaller and smaller as if to hide from it.

You were so scared of being alone that you destroyed his life just to keep him. And it didn’t even work. After everything, it didn’t even work.

He heard the smash of glass before he even realised what he’d done. The fragments of bottle glittered under the moonlight, scattered across the dark floor, an arching spray of whisky peppering the back wall. He watched the droplets trickle down, seeping into the cream paint, and then he stumbled forwards, hands on the back of the nearest thing in front of him. A chair.

He had no strength, his arms weighted down like cement, but he still managed to drag it backwards before hurling it across the room. It clattered off the edge of the table before ricocheting against the fridge, sending a few magnets and bits of paper flying in its wake. His chest heaved with exertion, his pulse entirely unsteady, and then he was going again, moving onto the next chair and throwing it in the same direction, enjoying the physicality of this destruction. It was far easier to bare than the emotional disintegration he was enduring internally.

When all the chairs were strewn across the room, he moved onto the kitchen itself, grabbing the glasses and plates from the drying rack and hurling them at the wall. They splintered and scattered like rain, glass and china pouring down until the floor sparkled with it. He didn’t stop until his vision was blurred, the hot sting of tears dampening his cheeks. He gripped the edge of the counter, trembling, and let himself sink into it.

His sobs barely made a sound, just a series of half-choked on breaths which he struggled to draw in or push out. His lungs burned, his bottom lip ripped smooth and bloody as he tore the surface flesh back with his teeth. He wanted to destroy himself from the outside in, to focus on anything else but the look on Aaron’s face when Robert had betrayed him.

He slumped to the floor, slipping into shadow as he pulled his phone from his pocket again. There were no messages, no calls. No one would bother to ring him even once they did find Aaron. They had been separated now, the connection broken entirely.

It went to voicemail when he tried to call, the woman’s voice mocking him as it asked him to leave a message. He didn’t, just kept hanging up before calling again, waiting for the moment when Aaron answered.

He didn’t know how many times he rang, but eventually his throat stopped aching and he wiped the snot and tears from his face, sniffing hard as he heard the beep resonate inside his skull again.

“You don’t get to hate me for this,” he began, his voice hoarse from crying, “not when you were the one who was leaving. Fuck you, Aaron. Falling in love with you… ruined everything.”

He let the mobile drop from his hand and tucked his head between his knees, fingers curling into his hair and gripping hard till his scalp throbbed. He wanted to rip it clean out from the roots, to dig his nails in until he bled, to just feel something that wasn’t guilt and fear. Anything was better than this.

Robert wasn’t sure how long he sat there for, slumped against the cupboard, the handle digging into his spine. The shadows moved across him as clouds passed in front of the moon, the darkness swallowing him whole. He closed his eyes to it, pretended that Aaron was in their bedroom, sleeping, that he could go through at any point and find him nestled beneath the covers. He drifted off on that image, felt the warmth of the duvet against his skin, the even breaths as Aaron dreamt tickling his cheek. He shifted closer, pressed his nose into Aaron’s shoulder, kissed the curve of his collarbone and felt Aaron stir against him but didn’t wake.

I could stay like this forever, he thought as the tears dried on his cheeks and he let his hands fall from his hair. He wasn’t shaking now, a strange calm pressing down on him, and when he opened his eyes it was like surfacing from a fevered sleep.

The kitchen was almost entirely gone, the night having stolen all but the barest silhouettes, and Robert had to pat the floor beside him until he felt his phone against the palm of his hand. The bright glare of the screen made him hiss, blinking furiously as the last few tears dripped onto his chin.

Still nothing.

He sighed, licking over his stinging lips and called again. The ringing made him flinch, too loud against the hush, and once it went to voicemail he had to stop himself breaking down at just the thought of Aaron listening to him speak.

“Aaron, please just answer,” he whispered, too tired and too sore to speak any louder. A part of him didn’t even want Aaron to hear. “I know I fucked everything up, I know I did. Let me explain… Let me… Just answer your phone, please.”

He cut the call, sniffed again, and then pushed himself onto his knees. The room tilted too much in the opposite direction and he found himself flat on his back, his shoulder hitting off the dishwasher as he went down. He tried again, slower this time, and made it to his feet before he swayed backwards, catching himself in time before he collapsed.

The hallway was just one long stretch of black and Robert pressed his hands to either wall, feeling his way towards their bedroom.

His bedroom now, he thought and winced from the reality of it all.

The room felt like a shrine to their relationship, unlike the kitchen which had been entirely devoid of soul. Here, Robert could make out the shape of Aaron’s clothes heaped on the chair, the magazines and books piled high on top of the dresser, the trail of socks littering the carpet as thought attempting to walk themselves from the room. He picked out each reminder in turn, every garment and object associated with some memory, trivial or not, which assaulted him one after the other.

Eventually, though, Robert realised he was focusing so hard on the smaller details of their lives in order to avoid the giant reminder in the centre of their room.

The bed was still unmade, Aaron’s pillows crushed from sleep, and somehow it still carried the echo of Robert’s declaration in its rumpled sheets. He had never felt more connected to anyone than he had that night, surrounded as he was by Aaron’s warm, yielding body. It had felt like he was flying, like they were indestructible, a force unlike any other. He had ridden that wave, believed himself invincible, and when the fall had come, it had come so hard that it had knocked the breath from him. He still hadn’t recovered, even now.

The entire room smelled of them, their collective scent which Robert had grown too acclimatised to notice until this moment. He stood in the doorway, too afraid to go inside, to admit he would be sleeping here alone. He clutched at his phone, his only lifeline now, his only connection to the life he should still have. It felt cold and hard against his fingers, able to derive little comfort from such an unfeeling object, and so he tossed it onto the bed before following suit.

He heeled off his shoes and sunk, face first, onto the mattress. It was cold now, a fact which left him feeling more bereft than it should have done, and he immediately curled himself into the duvet, hoping to warm it just through sheer force of will alone. He needed to pretend that Aaron was still here, that this was all still salvageable.

Stripped of all his most primary and necessary functions, his heart tripped a beat, then another, stammering out an off-kilter rhythm which had his palm sliding towards his chest. And all the while he stared into the darkness, not quite seeing the reality just yet, but feeling it with every laboured breath he took.

Because even without Aaron there, his presence still seeped into the very air he breathed, like a physical force which he could feel and touch. He didn’t feel alone, far from it. Robert felt haunted.

He tucked his knees up this chest and grabbed for his phone again, sliding further under the covers so that he could immerse himself entirely in the stale but comforting smell of Aaron’s body.

When he rang this time, he expected nothing, wanted nothing. His tongue felt dry and swollen in his mouth and he ached, physically ached, to have the words said aloud, to know that he had said them.

“Aaron?” he murmured into the receiver, his lip wobbling again. He couldn’t bottle it now, he needed to keep himself whole for just a little while longer. “Aaron, I need… I just need you to know, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and I just… I just need you to know…”

I love you.

He felt his throat tighten around the words, felt them slowly rot and decay before sinking back down again. He couldn’t do it. He just wasn’t brave enough.

“I just need you to know… I’m sorry,” he finished, and this time when he hung up, he knew there was nothing more he could say. He pushed the mobile away from him, pushed it so far that he heard it slip from the bed and land with a thud on the carpet. It didn’t matter. Aaron wouldn’t call back, and no one else would get in touch either.

Without anything else to do, Robert simply waited for sleep to take hold, knowing that any kind of peace would allude him until it did. The hollowness in his chest had spread to the entirety of his body, almost as if Aaron’s leaving had taken most of Robert with him. Just a shell remained, nothing left but the bitter remnants which had at one point been his entire self until Aaron had come along.

He wrapped his arms around him, burying his face into the pillow which now felt foreign to his touch, and let go completely of the delusion that Aaron was coming back.

He wasn’t. He was gone. And the ache deep inside him which followed that realisation felt sickeningly familiar. It felt like falling from the edge.

It felt like grief.

Chapter Text

There was the whisper of skin and warmth at his wrist when he woke. He felt the weight of sedation slowly ease from his muscles, loosening its grip as he resurfaced, a little sluggish, into the bright whiteness of the ward.

At first, all he could take in was the vast expanse of the ceiling, the blinding lights which sparked against his slightly parted lashes. Then he sensed fingertips at his hand again, brushing against his arm, pressing a little firmer into the gaps between his knuckles as he felt them laced with his own. He turned, grimacing as the pain shot down the length of his torso, and let out a slightly disbelieving breath when he came face to face with the only person he had thought might genuinely show up.

“Vic,” he murmured, his lips dry and chapped, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. She smiled at him, a little hesitant as she pushed back the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, and squeezed his hand.

“Hey, you,” she whispered in return, pulling her chair forwards towards the bed with a harsh scrape which made him flinch. She cast an apologetic glance in his direction before her gaze softened again, if tinged with concern. “You all right?”

They both knew how ridiculous that question was given the circumstances – he didn’t need a mirror to know there was barely a patch of skin not marked by purple or dried blood – but he nodded all the same, even if it reassured neither of them.

“Where’s-?” He got no further, Finn suddenly appearing through the open ward door carrying two polystyrene cups. The steam had fogged his glasses a little and once he’d handed one to Vic, he sat down in the chair next to her and removed them, wiping the condensation from the glass with the hem of his t-shirt.

Aaron looked between them, a little startled to have his past and present brought so physically to life before his eyes. It unnerved him to the point where he couldn’t look at them both, instead bouncing his gaze from one to the other as if pretending they weren’t side by side. He didn’t like the idea of his old life polluting his new one any further than it already had, and especially not when it concerned Vic. He wouldn’t have her tarnished by what he’d done… or what had been done to him.

“Are you heading off?” he asked, perhaps a little coldly. Finn swallowed his mouthful of tea and stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“M- Me?” he stammered, his thumbnail digging into the rim of his cup until it tore, a little of the hot liquid slipping over the side and dripping onto his dark jeans. Finn didn’t notice.

“Just not sure it’s a good idea for you to be here… not if the police have been called.” Aaron wasn’t sure if that was something the nurses could even do without his permission, but then, that wasn’t really what he was worried about. He just couldn’t stand to have Finn and Vic next to each other, to have them speaking, to have Vic knowing anymore than Finn had already told her.

God, what had he told her?

Finn nodded sharply, his gaze still pleading, and Aaron hated himself. Hated that he was forcing this boy out onto the street with nothing and no one. It was selfish, more selfish than he had any right to be. Finn had saved his life, ultimately. He could have left him in the alleyway, no doubt that’s what Ronnie had intended, but he’d phoned an ambulance. He’d stayed with Aaron, gone with him to the hospital, made sure he was all right. And now Aaron was just going to wash his hands of him.

“You should…” he paused, pushing himself a little higher on his pillows and grinding his teeth together through the unbearable pain. “You should… go and see your… family.”

It was rich coming from him, he knew that. After all, he had been adamant not so long ago that he would never go back to Emmerdale, never see his mum, never reunite with any of the Dingles. Not that he’d been wrong about that, in hindsight. Maybe he’d have been better off never going back.

But Finn was different. Finn had a shot at something better if only he could see it. Aaron would make him see it.

“I can’t. They’d never… they wouldn’t look at me the same, not once they knew,” Finn said, quiet and broken, his voice dipping at the end as he swallowed around the tears in his throat. Aaron knew the shame weighed heavily, wore it himself like a second skin. He knew what it meant to carry that around, day in and day out. Eventually you stopped noticing. Eventually you just accepted it was here to stay.

It was Vic who took Finn’s hand, though Aaron had thought about reaching out despite the fact his arms felt like cement.

“They’re your family and they love you. I’m sure they’ll just be relieved to have you home,” she said, and then she was rooting around her bag, bringing out her purse. Finn shook his head once he realised what she was doing, but evidently he had lost all ability to speak. Aaron watched mute as well, equally dumbfounded. Neither of them were used to this kind of generosity.

“Take this,” she said, pushing a few twenty-pound notes into his hand. “This’ll get you to wherever you need to go.”

Finn’s fingers curled around the money and Aaron wondered if he was thinking about the last time someone had shoved a couple twenties into his hand. He repressed a shudder at the thought, reminded again of how young Finn was, how fragile.

“I can’t take this,” he said even as his shoulders slumped in defeat. Vic dropped her purse back into her bag and smiled.

“Course you can,” she replied, feigning nonchalance as if it was no big deal. Maybe it wasn’t to her, chances were she did this sort of thing all the time, but to someone like Finn… Aaron knew how much that small act of kindness meant. He’d felt winded by it too when Robert had done the same for him.

Robert.

Aaron shook him from his mind, refusing to linger any longer on what he’d had, what he’d lost. There was no use dwelling on it now. It was all in the past and he wasn’t going back there.

“Thank you,” Finn breathed, pushing the notes into his pocket and standing hurriedly, putting his cup onto the table by Aaron’s bed. He stepped forward, a little hesitant, and rested a hand by Aaron’s on the mattress.

“I’m… I’m really, really sorry-”

“Don’t,” Aaron interrupted, partly because he didn’t want an apology, and partly because he didn’t want Vic hearing any part of what happened. Some things needed to stay buried. “You don’t need to say anything. Just promise me you’ll go home. Yeah?”

Finn pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I promise I will.”

He shuffled awkwardly round the chairs, fidgeting with the cuffs of his coat - Robert’s coat – and glanced reluctantly towards the door.

“Text me once you’re home. Let me know how it goes,” Aaron said, keeping his voice soft and encouraging. He needed Finn gone, that was the truth of it, but he also didn’t want him running off to Ronnie again. The boy needed a clean break, he needed to be back with his family. Safe.

Finn gave him a pleading look, as though he were about to beg Aaron to let him stay, but then he pressed his lips together and nodded a final time.

“Course. Right, I’ll just… say goodbye then, I suppose.”

“It was nice meeting you,” Vic chimed in, moving a little closer in her seat towards Aaron’s bedside.

Finn momentarily glanced in her direction, his smile shy and a little forced. “Yeah, you too,” he said, before returning his gaze to Aaron. “See you.”

“See you,” Aaron repeated, watching as Finn reluctantly made his way towards the door of the ward. “And take care, yeah?” he called just as Finn was at the threshold. He turned, a fleeting glance over his shoulder, but the smile this time was genuine and Aaron relaxed back against his pillows.

“Yeah. And you,” Finn said before he ducked out into the corridor and was gone. Aaron stared for a few moments at the empty doorway, wondering if he had done the right thing, before he felt his hand being squeezed.

“He seemed nice,” Vic commented, her voice encouraging. She always had been nosy.

“Yeah.”

“Said he was a friend.”

The relief was short and sweet, knowing now that Finn hadn’t divulged the true nature of their acquaintance. It made life a Hell of a lot easier.

“He is. Was,” Aaron corrected, knowing that it was very unlikely he and Finn would speak again. They’d gone their separate ways, Finn would be back with his family and hopefully he’d start again. And Aaron… he didn’t want to think about his future just now.

“Boyfriend?”

His head snapped round, surprised by the question. “Finn?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “God, no.”

Vic seemed to relax at that, though Aaron wasn’t entirely sure why, before leaning forwards so she could rest her arms on the bed. “And he… he found you?”

The memory of lying on the ground, shivering and lost to agony, filled his senses for a moment. He could hear the car tyres sloshing through puddles, the sound of Ronnie’s footsteps retreating, the bright flare of blue when the ambulance had pulled up. It was just fragments, but it still made him shudder.

“Yeah.”

“Aaron-”

“You don’t have to stay,” he cut in, because anything she'd been about to say would not have been welcome. He didn’t want pity or questions or judgement. He’d rather be alone than have that. “I mean… you can leave if you want.” He flicked his gaze up to meet hers, saw the resilience in her eyes, and was reminded again of how similar she and Robert were. That same stubbornness, that same determination.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vic replied, and it was almost like he could hear Robert’s voice as well. Get in... I’m not leaving... I love you…

A cool wash of dread prickled at the back of his neck and he ducked his head, focusing instead on Victoria.

“Doubt Adam’ll be best pleased,” he eventually commented, his thoughts slipping back to being stood in the pub, the aftermath of Robert’s words making his knees shake, and a hundred pair of eyes staring at him in horror.

“Why?”

He looked up at Victoria’s confused expression and almost laughed. “Well… you know.”

“No,” she returned, still just as perplexed, before her expression softened as she realised what he was getting at. “Aaron, he’s as worried as I am. He’s sat at home right now waiting for me to call him. He wanted to come with me to the hospital but he was worried about crowding you.”

Aaron stared at her, couldn’t help himself, the words attempting to sink in but being unable to get passed his armour. Adam had wanted to see him? He’d actually wanted anything to do with him after-

“Did he… I thought he was in the pub. Did he not hear-?”

“He heard,” Vic interjected, taking his hand immediately when Aaron flinched at the memory of everyone watching him, gawping. “But it’s not like that changes anything. We’re still your friends.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say, how to make sense of it. They were still here, they still cared… He didn’t know how to process that.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t be?”

He glanced at her but couldn’t hold her gaze. He felt embarrassed, cheeks colouring with heat as he fumbled with the hospital bracelet around his wrist. “I… I don’t know.”

He heard her sigh and then the mattress dipped as she came to sit on the very edge. “It doesn’t make any difference, not to either of us. None of it matters, apart from that you’re safe.”

It was a struggle to swallow, his eyes stinging, and he turned his face away so that he could squeeze them shut before the first tear could fall. When he eventually twisted back round, his side protesting violently at the movement, he had at least a modicum of control over his voice.

“I need to get out of here, Vic,” he said, calmer than he actually felt, watching as the nurses flitted round the ward, their shoes squeaking on the floor. He couldn’t be here, he knew that. He’d already stayed too long, and he had no idea if someone had called the police already. If they had… He needed to go before they arrived. There was no way he was going to be questioned, and definitely not about Ronnie. Not to mention what the doctors would say about his scars… he couldn’t have them asking about anything.

“You can’t go anywhere like this. You need to rest.”

“I can’t have them… They’re gonna ask questions,” Aaron explained, his voice strained now, eyes pleading.

“They’re here to make you better, that’s all,” she tried, but the concern had her faltering and he knew he needed to get through to her.

“Vic, please,” he whispered, leaning forwards a little despite every muscle in his body screaming at him to stop. “I can’t have them asking me stuff. I can’t.”

“What kind of stuff?” she asked, brows knitted together. He thought about telling her, imagined the version of reality where he could explain everything from start to finish, and have her stay afterwards. Robert stayed, a small, meek voice reminded him, and he pushed it down. He didn’t need thoughts like that, not now, not when Robert had thrown a grenade at his entire life.

“Do you think you could get me out?” he asked instead, deciding it would be safer all round if his past remained exactly where it was.

Vic, too surprised by the question to push further about what ‘stuff’ Aaron was referring to, raised her eyebrows. “What… now? Aaron, you’re in no fit state to be-”

“I can’t stay here,” he cut her off, glancing back to the nurses who were at the door of his ward. “Please, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

Vic gaped, eyes wide and lashes fluttering as she let Aaron’s request sink in. “I’m not even sure they’ll let you discharge yourself, not like this. I mean, can you even walk?”

He couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t even sit up without wanting to vomit his internal organs into his lap.

“Yeah. Probably.”

She sighed, evidently not believing him, but stood up regardless. “Hang on, I’ll go find a nurse, see if they’ll discharge you as long as you come home with me.”

He nodded and then froze, repeating the final part of what she had said over in his mind. “Wait… what?”

She turned. “Well, unless you want to go back to Robert’s?”

Home. No, not anymore. Never would be again now.

“No,” he answered, and the finality seemed to shake them both a little. Vic recovered quicker though, moving to the end of the bed to face Aaron.

“Right, so you’re coming home with me, then?” She didn’t exactly pose it as a question, more a statement, and so all he felt able to do was nod reluctantly.

“Just let me go find a nurse,” she said, slipping outside. He watched her approach one of them, a man in his late thirties who immediately started scowling when Vic spoke. His frown deepened the more Vic explained, her hands motioning towards Aaron every few seconds. The nurse turned, locked eyes with Aaron for a moment, and then started shaking his head. He felt his chest ache with fear, the panic making him dig his nails into the palm of his hand. Eventually Vic nodded and she came back through, looking just as nervous as before.

“Well?” he couldn’t help but ask, flattening out his hand on the sheet, though he could still feel the deep crescents throbbing against his skin.

“Apparently they can’t stop you from leaving, but they’ve strongly advised against it,” she answered, and he immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He could leave. He could leave now.

“Let’s go then,” he said, already pushing the covers off his legs and tentatively trying to shuffle towards the edge of the bed. Victoria chewed a little on her lower lip before she came over to help him, her hand at his back as they both worked to get his legs over the side of the bed and onto the cool floor.

“We’ll take it easy. Don’t want you hurting yourself anymore,” she murmured, and something in the way she said it had him glancing down at his stomach, covered by the hospital gown. Had she seen? Had the nurse said something? Had she spoken to Robert?

“Can you pass my clothes over?” he asked quietly, looking at the bundle of dark material on the chair in the far corner. She placed it next to him on the bed and the two exchanged an awkward look.

“Do you want me to-?” She stopped herself but motioned to the curtain which was partially open around his bed.

“Yeah, thanks. Think I can manage,” he replied, not wanting her to see either his scars or the layers of bruises smudged across his pale skin. She nodded and left him to it, drawing the curtain to give him some privacy.

Getting dressed proved just as difficult as he imagined. He could feel his ribs aching as he slipped off the gown and reached for his t-shirt. His whole torso was a canvas of blacks and purples, the clear outline of a boot print which curved around his waist. He traced a finger across the scar above his belly button, now disappeared slightly under the mass of bruises, before the muscles flinched painfully at his touch. It took him a good fifteen minutes to work the garment over his head, every part of him begging to just lie back down. He breathed heavily, fighting the pain with every breath as he moved onto his boxers and jeans. They were slightly easier to get on, shimmying the fabric over his hips until they sat snug against his waist. He tried desperately to reach his shoes but every time he bent over, his whole body convulsed with pain and eventually he realised he wouldn’t be able to do it alone.

“Vic?”

“Yeah?” she called, her shadow visible through the thin, blue curtain.

“Can you… Do you think you could come in?”

He saw her freeze for a second before she peaked her head round. “Everything okay?”

He glanced from her to his trainers and back again. “Do you think you could… It’s just I can’t reach to put them on?”

He hated himself. Hated having to ask for help, and especially with this. He’d never felt so much like a child before.

“Course!” she exclaimed, rushing round and immediately crouching to pick up his shoes, loosening the laces. His socks were stuffed inside and she unrolled them, taking each foot and slipping the soft fabric over his toes and up to his ankles. She was so gentle despite the fact his feet hadn’t been injured… the only part of him that hadn’t. When she came to tie the laces, she did them in a double-knot which instantly reminded him of when he was young, when his dad had done the same thing…

His mind swerved immediately from the memory, an automatic response, and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” she replied, hooking her bag over her shoulder and glancing back out to the ward. “Do you think I should get a wheelchair?”

The very idea of being wheeled out was too much for him. He already felt like a child, he didn’t want that too. He could manage, even if he ended up doing himself more harm than good. He wasn’t going to be a victim, not after everything else.

“I’m fine. Just… walk slowly,” he said, and pushed with everything he had until he was standing. His legs immediately wanted to give way, his back burning with pain so that he had to stoop a little just to ease it. His ribs throbbed, his head pounded, and his vision faded at the edges like the corners of an old photograph. He took a second to regain some focus and felt Victoria place a hand against his arm, guiding him slowly.

“The nurse gave me your medications. He wasn’t too happy but… well, I doubt he wanted a fight about it. You need to sign a discharge form though before we can go.”

He nodded, every ounce of energy taken up with just putting one foot in front of the other. He followed Vic down the corridor, eyes falling shut every few seconds as the pain threatened to take hold completely, and started to lean on her more and more the further down they got.

“Maybe I should get you a wheelchair,” she whispered, stopping a second to check him over.

He shook his head. “’m fine. Let’s just get going.”

The discharge form was arduous despite only needing a signature and a few questions from the nurse to make sure he had the ‘capacity to discharge himself’. He answered in one-syllable responses, more of a grunt than actual words, but the nurse seemed moderately satisfied and Vic signed as a witness considering he was being discharged into her care.

The car, thankfully, was parked fairly close to the hospital and Vic helped ease him into the passenger seat. She had a blanket in the boot and she tucked it around him which he thanked her for, despite feeling even more like a child. He didn’t even question the early evening dusk until Vic started driving, at which point he realised that he’d likely spent a full day in hospital without realising.

“What time is it?” he asked a little hazily, peering through the windscreen to see the sun setting over the buildings.

Vic glanced at the car dashboard. “Just after five.”

“When did I… When did I call you?”

He could barely even remember the phone call anymore. Finn had asked him who he should ring and Aaron’s thumb had hovered over Robert’s name and then his mum’s, before he’d finally chosen Vic. He couldn’t even remember her picking up, just the concern in her voice when he’d explained where he was.

“It was probably a little after three in the morning. Not that we were asleep, we’d gone out looking for you with Cain and Chas.”

It wasn’t so much the idea of her and Adam going looking for him which was a shock, but more that his mum and uncle had been there as well.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, not wanting to ask whether or not his entire family really had disowned him. He didn’t fancy having an emotional kicking so soon after the physical one.

She patted his knee, padded as it was by the scratchy, wool blanket, before returning her attention to the road. “We wanted to help… and we were worried.”

There was a pause, and perhaps if Vic hadn’t suddenly looked so shifty Aaron might have convinced himself it was just the end of the conversation, but something about the shift in her expression made him tense.

“I just thought I should say… I’m not gonna ask… about any of it.”

He wasn’t sure what she was referring to – Robert, Finn, his entire past being dragged up in front of the village… It didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to speak about any of it.

“Okay.”

She shifted again, her eyes locking on his in the rearview mirror. “But… if you want to tell me… I mean, if you want to talk about it-”

“I don’t,” he said, sharper than he’d meant. The panic was getting to him, and the pain. Maybe he would have been better off in hospital after all.

“Okay.” She sounded defeated, and he realised he owed her more than that. Much more, if he was honest.

“Just… not yet, all right?” he amended, keeping his voice soft. She gave him a smile and nodded.

“All right.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, her fingers drumming occasionally against the wheel in time to the music coming quietly from the speakers. He let his head fall back against the headrest and closed his eyes, listening to the heavy thrum of the engine and a Yorkshire radio host commenting on the approach of Valentine’s Day.

“Remember, this is the day you tell the person you love how much you love them. So fellas, don’t think getting the missus a hoover is gonna cut it!”

He kept his thoughts in neutral, focused on the dashboard lights and the winding roads which led them out of town and towards the village. He felt the dread return, much like it had done when Robert had been the one driving them. It was strange to be doing it again, only now the nightmare was real and not just a possibility. His worst fear had become a reality, he’d lost the one person he’d managed to trust, and he’d got his family back for all of two minutes only to have them slip through his fingers again.

The panic was nauseating and he drowned out the radio and the sound of Vic humming, pressed his lips together to stop himself from asking her to pull over or turn around. He closed his eyes instead, willed himself to sleep, and waited for the inevitable.

“We’re here.”

He hadn’t realised he’d drifted off until he felt the cold air against his cheeks, the passenger door open and Vic leaning in, her hand on his shoulder. The entire village was shrouded in darkness and Aaron immediately went rigid against the seat, wondering if a member of the Dingle family was about to lunge from the shadows.

Vic helped to get him out of the car, wrapping the blanket around him as she guided him up the path and towards the cottage. The hallway light was on and the front door opened just as they reached the steps.

“Hey mate.” Adam stood in the doorway, arms folded against the chill, and his smile was gentle, encouraging. Aaron wanted to run.

“Hey,” he replied hesitantly before being bundled inside by Vic who was shivering herself against the cold. The door clicked shut behind them and the silence which followed was agonising.

“Been in the wars a bit, haven’t you?” Adam commented, voice so quiet and tentative that Aaron immediately wanted to shrink back, hide from them both. He couldn’t take this. He’d have preferred anger at this point.

“Just a bit,” he managed, head bowed so low that he couldn’t see either of them, his mouth and chin hidden inside the blanket wrapped tightly about him.

“I’ve got the spare room all done up. Means we’ve got to get you up them stairs, but me and Vic’ll help. Okay?”

It wasn’t. None of this was okay, none of it would ever be okay. He was a charity-case now, reduced to sleeping in other people’s homes because he didn’t have one of his own, and because the one he did have wasn’t his anymore.

“I can sleep on the sofa, it’s fine,” he tried, already knowing that neither of them would hear of it. But he didn’t want them thinking he was so utterly pathetic that he couldn’t just kip downstairs. And it would be easier to slip out quietly tomorrow morning, before either of them woke up.

Adam shook his head, just as Aaron had expected. “Trust me, you’ll do even more damage to yourself if you spend one night on that thing. You’re better off in a bed.”

He didn’t fight it, didn’t have the energy to do much more than accept what was happening. “If you’re sure.”

He sensed them both exchanging a look over his head and he closed his eyes for a second, deciding to let them have whatever non-verbal conversation they wanted as long as he didn’t have to witness it. He couldn’t take seeing whatever was in their eyes.

“Right, let’s get you upstairs. Just put your weight on me, yeah?” Adam was beside him, an arm gently surrounding his upper half as they both made their way to the first step. Aaron stumbled immediately, his legs far too weak, and he pressed his shoulder into Adam’s chest just to keep from falling.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, trying desperately not to just break down there and then. He was so tired. He was just so tired of everything.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, you hear me? Nothing.” Adam said, his voice forceful, certain, kind. Aaron couldn’t help but look up at him.

“Okay.”

“Good,” Adam breathed before turning round. “Babe, can you take his other arm?”

“Yeah, course,” he heard Vic say and suddenly she was at his other side, tugging Aaron’s arm till it was around her shoulder. He felt his ribs groan against the movement but bit his lip to quieten the cry of pain threatening to break free. They were already doing so much, he wouldn’t have them feeling guilty as well.

It took them a good few tries to get him up, and every now and again he found himself wanting to collapse. At one point he felt his feet lifted off the ground, Adam taking the whole of his weight and half-carrying him up the remaining few steps. He was too exhausted to feel ashamed by that point and so just let it happen, hoping somehow he would forget the whole thing by tomorrow.

The spare room was small and plain, but it had a bed and it was warm, and to Aaron it was as close to Heaven as he had ever seen.

“You all right?” Adam asked once Aaron had got settled under the covers, his head propped up with far too many pillows. It strained his neck but he didn’t complain. He’d put up with it rather than have them think he was ungrateful.

“Yeah. Yeah… I think so,” he answered, wriggling a little lower on the bed so all but his head was above the duvet.

Adam moved back towards the doorway, fingers curling round the handle before he turned back. “Okay, well I’ve put some water by the bed and you just shout if you need anything. Don’t try and get up though, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. I’ll say goodnight then.”

“Night,” he said before some compulsion overtook his embarrassment at the whole situation. “Adam?”

He paused just before the door closed and opened it a little more. “Yeah?”

“I just- Thank you.”

Adam’s eyes went soft and open and he smiled, his shrug just a bare lift of his shoulder. “Hey, what are friends for,” he said quietly before he said another quick goodnight and shut the door.

Aaron lay in the darkness for a good few minutes, wondering how he’d managed to get so lucky.

Week 1

The light woke him. The curtains were thin to the point of transparent and the weak, winter sunshine sliced through the room and blinded him. He groaned, first at being woken and then at realising how much agony he was in. The drugs he’d been on had evidently worn off and now his whole body pulsated with pain.

The floorboards outside his door creaked and he saw the handle turn just before Victoria peaked round.

“Morning,” she whispered, wrapped up to the neck in a fluffy, violet dressing-gown. He gave her a smile and pushed himself up on the pillows, wincing badly as his ribs shifted unnervingly.

“Morning.”

“I thought I’d check and make sure you were awake… What do you fancy for breakfast?”

He placed a hand against his side, as if that might hold himself together a little more. “Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Aaron, I’m a chef, I like to cook,” she cut him off, her tone light and teasing. “Just tell me what you want.”

“I’m good with anything,” he replied and she nodded.

“Well I’m cooking you a full English, then, feed you up a bit. You want tea or coffee?”

“Could I just get some water?”

“Course.”

The floorboards creaked again and Aaron heard Adam murmuring behind Vic.

“Is he up?”

Vic twisted a little give him a kiss. “Yeah.”

Adam appeared beside her in the doorway, his black t-shirt rising a little as he stretched and yawned. “Hey mate. You doing okay?” he asked once he’d closed his mouth enough to speak.

“Yeah, thanks,” Aaron answered, feeling a little like an animal at a zoo with people looking into his enclosure.

Adam shuffled further into the room, his wayward curls sticking up at the back and his eyes squinting at the bright light coming from the window. “You look… better.”

Aaron and Vic both looked at him like he’d gone mad.

“Really?”

There was a pause and then Adam let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head sadly. “Nah, not really,” he answered, and Aaron couldn’t help but join in with the laughter, not even wanting to imagine how bad he looked right now. He could feel his swollen jaw and the cut above his eyebrow, and that was just his face.

Vic cleared her throat and glanced at Adam. “I’ll… just go make a start on breakfast then,” she said, but there was something in her tone which signalled she meant something else entirely. Adam gave her a nod and she left, the two of them watching as she descended the stairs.

“Subtle, isn’t she?” Adam said with a wry smile as he came over to the bed and sat down.

“Yeah.”

“Vic said you were worried last night… about us not being mates anymore?” His dark eyes were fixed on Aaron and he felt himself cower a little, not used to having someone be so direct with him.

“Right.”

“Look… I’m not saying it wasn’t… a shock. Wasn’t exactly expecting it!” Adam laughed, before his expression slipped back into its previously serious state. “But… it’s not like you’ve changed or anything. You still take the piss out of Cain, still think I’m dead funny-”

“Not sure about that,” Aaron muttered and Adam laughed, louder this time, and Aaron found himself grinning.

“Whatever you say, mate, we both know I’m right,” he said, offering a cheeky smile. He shifted closer to Aaron, patting Aaron’s knee with a few solid smacks which had him biting the inside of his cheek to stop from yelling. He wasn’t going to ruin this, not for anything. “I’m just saying… we’re good. Nothing’s changed.”

He didn’t know if that was true, didn’t know how it could be considering Adam had just found out Aaron was a prostitute. It wasn’t exactly something you could forget easily.

“If you say so.”

“I do.” He looked certain, determined, just like Vic had. Just like Robert. Aaron forced himself to keep his mind in the present.

“Okay.”

Adam stood up again. “And I bet you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine, I get it, but… if you do, then I’m here.”

He wouldn’t – couldn’t – but he appreciated the gesture all the same. It was more than most would have offered him.

“Vic said the same.”

“Yeah, well, we’re on the same page on this one.”

Adam shuffled back towards the door, stretching a little on his toes, dragging his fingers along the top of the doorway.

“Thanks,” Aaron found himself saying just as Adam turned. “For taking me in. You didn’t need to.”

“We wanted to, mate,” Adam answered, soft again. Aaron didn’t know whether he hated it or loved it. Maybe a little of both. “And it wasn’t like you could go back to Robert, could you? Dickhead.”

His head snapped up at the mention of Robert’s name. Vic hadn’t spoken about her brother at all, and it felt odd to hear his name said now, after everything that had happened. Almost like the Robert they were talking about wasn’t in any way attached to the Robert he had spent the past month or so falling in love with. He couldn’t coincide the two versions, just like he couldn’t quite see where the Aaron who had lived with him and the Aaron who existed now were the same. Perhaps they really had been living in an alternate reality, and this was them just coming back to Earth.

“All my stuff’s still at his,” he heard himself say, though God knows he hadn’t been thinking about that at all.

“Yeah, Vic mentioned that. We’re gonna head round in a little while and pick it up.”

His throat swelled with fear and he swallowed hard. “But… then he’ll know I’m here.”

Adam leaned in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. “It’s fine, he won’t be getting anywhere near you. I’ll make sure of that.”

It wasn’t exactly what Aaron had been thinking, and he wasn’t entirely sure it made him feel any better. He didn’t want to see Robert, he wasn’t sure what would happen if he did, but there was something unsettling about the idea of having Adam dragged into the middle of this, acting as some kind of pseudo-bodyguard. Then again, Adam would likely have to do something similar for Aaron’s entire family…

“Does anyone know I’m staying here?”

He shook his head. “No, not yet. Neither of us have been out this morning.”

“I don’t want anyone to know… especially not mum.” Just the idea of her seeing him, the disgust radiating off her in waves… He couldn’t do that. He just wasn’t strong enough.

“Aaron-”

“Please, Adam,” he pleaded. “I can’t face it, not yet.”

He saw Adam back down, his shoulders dropping, his frown easing. “All right. Yeah, all right.”

“You won’t tell anyone?” Aaron asked, because at this point he needed confirmation. He needed to know he wasn’t about to have a Dingle lynch-mob barging into his room and dragging him outside to be flogged.

“No, I won’t. Neither will Vic.”

He relaxed, if only marginally, and rested back against the pillows. “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll just go see how Vic’s getting on. Just you take it easy.”

Aaron watched him go down the stairs and immediately sighed, already wondering how long it would be before he was well enough to get up… and therefore leave. He couldn’t stay here too much longer, even with Adam’s promise. Eventually someone would realise Aaron was here, and then he’d need more than his friends to defend him against the onslaught. A few days, that’s all. A few days and then he’d be out of here.  

*** 

He wolfed down Vic’s breakfast, not realising how hungry he was until she put the plate in front of him. He took his medication with a glass of water and immediately felt drowsy. Vic told him to rest, to just sleep, and said she’d be popping round with Adam to get his stuff from Robert’s. He might have felt more nervous if his eyes weren’t already closing, so he just nodded and pushed his face into the pillows as everything slipped back into darkness.

When he woke again, the sun was falling a little and there was shouting coming from somewhere. He glanced around the room, wondering how long he’d been out for, before realising that the raised voices sounded like they were coming from the front door.

He strained to hear what was being said but it was too muffled, the words just angry noises through his closed bedroom door. He could make out Vic and Adam… and Robert. He might not have been able to decipher the conversation, but Aaron would recognise his voice anywhere. His heart slammed against his chest, once, twice, and he had to grip the duvet hard to stop himself free-falling. What was he doing here? Was he trying to see Aaron? Did he want to finish what he’d started?

The door slammed and Aaron flinched, the silence even worse than the yelling. He waited a second before calling out a questioning ‘hello’ and waited, listening for the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

When the door opened, Adam appeared, cheeks flushed likely from anger.

“I really don’t get why you were ever stayed with him,” he said, not bothering to dance around the issue. “He’s a wanker.”

“Robert?” Aaron enquired, just to make sure. Not that there could be any doubt, especially not with Adam’s accurate descriptor.

“Yeah,” he replied, coming into the room in order to pace at the end of Aaron’s bed. “I mean, I tried being nice to him the first time he came back… for Vic’s sake. But if anything he’s got worse.”

“What’s he been saying?” Aaron didn’t really want to know. It wouldn’t be good, no matter what it was.

“Nothing. No, it’s fine, you don’t need to worry about it. He was just pissed off and thought throwing his weight around would do the trick. He’s never happy unless he’s getting his own way.”

You know him well, then, Aaron thought, before remembering again why he’d been worried a few seconds earlier. “Is he going to tell anyone? That I’m here, I mean.”

“Doesn’t seem like he’s exactly Mr. Popular right now. Doubt anyone will give him the time of day.”

It shouldn’t have had any effect on him, but he couldn’t help but remember all those times when Robert had told him about being a pariah in the village, about being hounded by his family and other villagers, by Katie in particular. How he’d never felt like he belonged…

“Right.”

“Fingers crossed he takes the hint and leaves,” Adam continued, having not heard the slight reluctance in Aaron’s voice. “God knows Vic would be happier without him here messing everything up. Bet you’d be glad to see the back of him an’ all.”

No.

The response was immediate and unwelcome, so he shoved it to the back of his mind along with every other thought concerning Robert.

“Yeah.”

Adam stopped in his tracks, perhaps hearing Aaron’s dubiousness, and turned to face him. He looked nervous and Aaron instantly braced himself for whatever was coming.

“Look, mate… you don’t have to tell me, but…” Adam paused, running a hand through his hair, and Aaron amended his earlier assessment – Adam wasn’t nervous, he was uncomfortable. “I mean when we were over there… See, we needed to get your stuff and… it’s just, I couldn’t help but notice… there was only one bedroom, so-”

“I’m a bit tired, actually,” Aaron forced out, his breath hitching. He wasn’t going to go there, not now and especially not with Adam.

“Right. Yeah, course. You’ll be needing your rest.” He didn’t sound convinced and Aaron wasn’t surprised, but he was relieved that Adam had dropped it.

“Yeah. Think I just need to sleep.”

“Okay. That’s… right, I’ll just…” He gestured towards the door and faltered a little, glancing back at Aaron for a second before hurrying back outside.

Aaron didn’t relax once it shut behind him, just imagined the look on Robert’s face when he realised that his sister and brother-in-law had come face-to-face with the reality of their relationship.

No wonder he’d been angry.

Week 2

Robert left the village just after Adam and Vic went round. Vic came back from the shops seething, banging pots in the kitchen, hissing swears under her breath as she put the groceries away. When she came up to see him, her jaw was locked in anger, arms folded tight across her chest.

“He’s gone,” she’d said, matter-of-factly. “His car’s not there and Leyla told me she saw him driving off with a few bags yesterday.”

It shouldn’t have made a difference. He hadn’t intended to see Robert ever again… but something about knowing he couldn’t, about realising Robert had just given up without a fight hurt him. It was another betrayal.

He pushed it down instead, threw himself into getting better. He slept mostly, only waking to eat or shower, not something he enjoyed considering it involved having Adam half-carry him to and from the bathroom. The bruises got worse rather than better towards the weekend, most of his torso and legs covered with marks that looked a lot like ink stains. His muscles seized up and Vic got him to sit on the end of the bed to do some physio exercises, with Adam encouraging him whenever he started lagging. He had never known a couple so united, so in sync with each other, and if it wasn’t so comforting Aaron might have questioned it. As it stood, he just let himself be helped and thanked them periodically when the kindness got too much.

Luckily for him, Vic could only take a day or two off work before Marlon started asking questions about how bad 'cramps' really were, so eventually Aaron was left alone in the house. He’d navigated successfully to the sofa, or as successfully as anyone could fighting against a body which rattled with shattered bones. His hours were spent largely watching daytime television and wondering, not for the first time, how long it would be before he could leave.

Adam called him almost every hour, usually on the pretext of finding out what he wanted for tea or if there’d been any post, but it invariably ended with: “And are you… okay?” which Aaron always responded to with: “Yeah. Course.”

One of the worst things about being cooped up indoors for days on end was not being able to run from his thoughts. When Adam or Vic were home, or when he managed to find a programme on TV that wasn’t yet another re-run, he had no option but to relive any number of moments from his life which he would have preferred never to think on again. And naturally the one which he replayed the most was the night his entire world had been shattered like a bullet through glass.

Unlike your precious whore of a son.

It was crippling. He was made hollow by that betrayal, shrunken down and utterly, terrifyingly exposed. He felt it as keenly now as he had done then, more so in fact. Now he didn’t have the shock to anaesthetise the pain, now there was only the heavy weight of acceptance.

He sat in the early-evening dusk, his entire body grown cold having not moved in hours, and stared blankly at the wall opposite, remembering the venom that had spat from Robert’s mouth. He’d looked like he’d enjoyed it, as if there had been a part of him revelling in the destruction he’d caused. Even now Aaron wasn’t sure what had happened to make him switch so violently, only that when the change happened, time had become elastic around them, stretched out to the slow, heavy beat of his heart before snapping back to meet him full in the chest.

Of course, he should have seen it coming. Robert had showed him already what he was capable of, and maybe that’s why it had felt so oddly familiar, stood in the pub with his entire family listening to Robert lay bare his entire life with such delight. Because this wasn’t the first time Robert had pushed the knife in as far as it would go, certainly not the first time he had betrayed the people closest to him.

At least he didn’t threaten to kill you. You came off lightly, really, he thought, not that it helped. If anything, it made it worse to realise that, rather than being saved by Robert, he’d actually just been walking into another trap. He’d been so naïve then, just got into Robert’s car without knowing who he was, without even questioning how Robert knew where to find him. He’d trusted a stranger implicitly, stayed with him even when all the signs were there, had gone against every single person, even Robert’s own family, who had told him to run.

He’d just swapped one psychopath for another – Ronnie for Robert…

“Where is he?!”

The front door smacked so hard against the wall that Aaron practically fell off the sofa, the entire right side of his body screaming in agony as he scrambled onto his knees and faced the living-room door where he could hear heavy footsteps approaching.

“You can’t just barge in here, Cain!” It was Adam, his voice far more aggressive than normal, and Aaron listened as the two of them hurried up the stairs. He waited, trying to steady his heart-rate even if, right now, it felt a lot like he was taking sniper fire.  

“Aaron!” Cain called from the landing but he made no sound, just kept very still and hoped that his uncle would give up and leave.

The echo of footsteps descended the stairs and then… The living-room door opened and Cain stood under the arch, his face largely hidden by shadows. Aaron didn’t need to know what he looked like… he could already guess.

“Get out of my house, I mean it,” Aaron heard Adam growl from behind Cain, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s all right, Adam,” he said, though he had no idea where he found the nerve to speak. “I’m fine.”

“Here that? Says he’s fine, so go run along and let me have a chat with my nephew.” It wasn’t a suggestion but a demand, and Adam gave Aaron another questioning look, likely something along the lines of: Are you mad? Aaron said nothing, just shook his head slightly. A few seconds later Aaron heard the click of the front door shutting, leaving him alone with Cain.

“How did you know I was here?”

“What, you thought boy wonder would be able to keep his trap shut?” Cain snapped, stepping further into the room. “I heard him calling you today, and he’s not got the brains to lie to my face.”

Aaron made a mental note to have a word with Adam about not being so bloody transparent, even if he knew his heart was in the right place. Didn’t help him now though, not with Cain looming over him.

“Right, well… I don’t know why-”

“Who gave you a pasting?” Cain cut him off, his leather jacket groaning a little as he folded his arms across his chest. “Or are you gonna tell me you walked into a door?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, even that small movement causing him to wince. “Would you believe me?”

“Try it and see.”

Aaron wasn’t sure that was such a good idea so he sighed instead. “It doesn’t matter… It’s sorted now.”

Cain raised an eyebrow, evidently unconvinced. “Oh yeah? What, ‘you should see the other guy’, that sort of thing?”

“Something like that.”

“Well he must be half-dead then if he’s worse off than you,” he retorted, and Aaron wondered whether the exhaustion hitting him was because it was so late on, or if it had only started after his uncle walked through the door. He had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter.

He gently eased himself back into a sitting position, leaning heavily against the cushions to try and soothe his throbbing muscles. He was desperate for sleep, his head pulsating with the impulse to close his eyes, and being silently judged from on high was the very last thing he needed.

“I dealt with it, that’s all you need to know,” he replied wearily, rubbing a thumb against his temple.

“Doubt you managed to deal with anything in that state,” he heard Cain mutter under his breath. He gave him a warning glare in response. “Tell you what, you give me a name and an address and I’ll go round, have a quiet little chat with the scrote.”

Ronnie and Cain going toe-to-toe… now there was a scenario Aaron wanted to avoid like the plague.

“Thanks but I think I’ll pass.”

Cain rocked back on his heels, face taut in anger. “You’d let him get away with it?”

“For a quiet life, yeah, I would.”

“Trust me, you’ll get a quiet life once I’m finished with him,” came Cain’s snarled reply and Aaron rolled his eyes again, this time knowing full well his uncle would see it. He didn’t care anymore.

“Cain, just leave it, yeah?” Maybe it was the strained edge to Aaron’s voice, or maybe Cain had somehow softened overnight, but his frown eased a little and his shoulders dropped from his ears.

“Right. Fine. The offer’s there.”

“I know.”

Aaron watched him perch on the arm of the other sofa, hands splayed out across his knees. He looked uncomfortable, awkward, and there was something unnerving about seeing Cain – a human version of a crow – surrounded by so much floral print. It wasn’t natural.

“You not gonna offer me a brew?” he eventually asked, slightly too gruff considering the request.

Aaron glanced momentarily towards the kitchen and then back at Cain. “Thought you’d said your piece already?”

“No one ever teach you any manners?”

“When would that have been?” Aaron retorted immediately, childhood memories flitting before his eyes like a reel of film. He’d only ever been taught how easy it was to leave, even when you had someone relying on you… and how unloved he was. Manners had never come into it.

“Our Chas is going spare wondering where you are,” Cain said, and he was softer now, more compliant, patient. Aaron wondered if Cain was like that with everyone in his family, or if Chas was the exception to his usual rule. He thought about his mum now, about the horror etched into her face when she’d heard her son called a prostitute and a whore, how she’d shaken her head as if it was the worst thing she’d ever heard. He doubted very much that she cared whether he was alive or dead.

“I bet.”

“Oi, watch it,” Cain snapped, a finger pointed at Aaron’s face. Aaron backed down first.

“You can’t tell her I’m here.”

“I’m not keeping it from her.”

The panic crackled inside his chest, sparking through his veins until his fingers tingled with it. He shifted in his seat, ignoring the pain, and leaned forwards a little. “Please… Look, it’s not a good idea… her seeing me. Not like this, anyway.”

Cain looked him up and down and Aaron was more than grateful that darkness had set in, allowing him to hide the worst of his injuries.

“Yeah, well, that’s true. She’d be on more of a warpath than me if she saw your face right now.”

He didn’t believe that, not for a second, but as long as it meant Cain didn’t say anything, Aaron would go along with it. “Right… so you won’t tell her, then?”

Cain chewed on his bottom lip and then sighed. “No, not right now. But I’m not keeping this from her forever.”

“All right,” Aaron agreed immediately, knowing it didn’t matter - he’d be long gone by the time Cain thought to tell his mum.

They both sat silent, staring at the carpet and searching for something, anything to say which wasn’t about Robert’s revelation. Aaron had no intention of discussing that with his family, but least of all Cain.

“How’s the garage?” he asked eventually, hoping it might break some of the endless tension between them.

“Yeah, not bad,” he answered, slightly more hesitant than usual. “Course, I’ve got no one to make me a cup of tea now.” He was smirking and Aaron forced a smile in return, relieved to have some of that awkwardness seep from the room.

“Lost without me, then,” he joked, though he knew it wasn’t true. Glad to see the back of him, more like. It wasn’t as though Cain would hire him back considering he now knew what Aaron’s former line of work had been. He couldn’t say he blamed him.

“Wouldn’t go that far,” Cain answered, though he was still smirking. “Got one car in the now… needs a bit of TLC.”

Aaron glanced up at him, taking in the crease between his brows, the sharp angle of his shoulders, the rigid way he was holding himself, and wondered what on Earth he was talking about.

“Right,” he said, mainly because he had no other response.

Cain flicked his gaze upwards for less than a second before returning it to his hands which were clasped on his lap. Aaron had never seen him look this… nervous.

“Bet some people’d think it’s a total write-off.”

His chest tightened a little, the message starting to filter through but not quite reaching him just yet. But it was coming, he could feel it coming.

“Right.”

“Just… well, it needs a bit of patience, that’s all,” Cain continued, every word forced out through gritted teeth. He was finding it just as difficult to say as it was for Aaron to hear. “Get to the bottom of what’s really wrong.”

It was suddenly much harder to breathe than before, and Aaron swallowed around the lump in his throat. He didn’t want to dig too deep into what Cain was saying… but he knew all the same, knew that whatever they were talking about now, it had very little to do with cars.  

“Yeah,” he breathed, his tongue thick with shame.

“Still…” Cain said, his voice lighter now, less stilted, “I’ll get there with it. We could… even work on it together?”

This isn’t happening. Tell me this isn’t happening. He rubbed hard at his forehead, the pain chiselling deep into the bone, and tried his best to nod.

“Suppose.” He could barely get the word out, didn’t want to in any way associate himself with what was happening. Cain pitied him so much that he was willing to offer an olive branch, masked as it was with metaphors and analogies, to try and help his rentboy nephew. He felt suddenly, violently sick.

“Right, better be getting off. Moira’ll be asking where I am.” Cain was already standing, making for the door, and Aaron told himself it would soon be over.

“You should get some rest, doubt that couch is doing your back much good.”

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll head up soon,” he replied, even if he knew already that he’d barely be able to stand. He hadn’t had a painkiller in hours and half his body felt almost paralyzed in agony.

“Need a hand?”

Cain was standing just by his shoulder now, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, eyebrows raised in a question. Aaron ducked from his stare, shuddering a little for how close he was suddenly standing.

“Oh no, you’re all right, I can manage,” he answered, trying his best not to grimace when he attempted to shift further away from Cain. He heard his uncle sigh heavily and then, without warning, he was crouched down beside him.

“Right, put your arm around my neck.”

For a second Aaron thought he’d misheard, but Cain was still staring at him, expecting an answer.

“No way.”

Cain gave him a withering stare and Aaron shrunk back even further. “Look, neither of us want to be doing this, but you can hardly stay on this couch all night. Let’s just get it over with.”

“Cain…”

“Come on, I’m doing my back in here.”

Aaron looked at him again, those dark eyes which were so like his mother’s, and felt himself giving in. He raised his arm, hissing through his teeth as the pain shot down his left side, and Cain leaned in until he was braced against the sofa.

“Right, just… let’s take it easy,” he said, thought it came out a little strained as he suddenly hooked an arm around the back of Aaron’s knees and suddenly hoisted him up. Aaron had to bite down hard on his lip to stop from shouting, Cain’s other arm far too tight around his waist. He could feel every bruise like a fresh punch against his skin, but that was apparently nothing to what Cain was going through, judging by the groans and curses he was emitting.

“Jesus, this is why only birds get carried like this,” he huffed, walking slowly back through to the hallway. The stairs suddenly seemed much steeper than before and Aaron could hear Cain’s breath labouring as he took the first few steps, wobbling a little as he got halfway up.

“Sorry,” Aaron mumbled, turning his face away to hide the flush which had crept up his neck.

Cain said nothing until they’d reached the landing, at which point he let out a relieved breath. “Don’t start going soft on me. Might have to feel sorry for you at this rate, and we don’t want that, do we?”

“No. Definitely not,” he answered, gesturing towards his room with a nod of his head. Cain entered, shouldering open the door and immediately dropping Aaron slightly carelessly down onto the bed. Luckily the mattress was soft enough to dull the fall and he was more than grateful to have the embarrassment over.

“Right… well, if you’re sorted here then I’ll get going-”

“Cain?”

He turned, one foot out the door, and gave him a slightly dubious look. “You’re not gonna ask me to undress you, are you? Cause that’d be seriously overstepping.”

Aaron’s eyes bulged just at the thought and shook his head vigorously. “No! No. I just… wanted to say thanks.”

Cain visibly relaxed and Aaron wondered, just for a second, what would have happened if he had been about to ask Cain to help him get undressed. He repressed a shudder.

“Don’t mention it,” Cain said, still looking a little shaken. “Seriously, better for both of us if we just keep all - this - between ourselves. Got it?”

Aaron kept his expression neutral. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Right. Well… see you.”

“Yeah, see you,” he answered, watching as his uncle stepped back out onto the landing, the darkness surrounding him. Aaron shifted further up the bed, running a hand through his slightly curled hair as he thought about the best way of getting out of his clothes with the least amount of pain possible. Maybe he’d just sleep as he was, or strip down to his boxers and-

“You’re a good lad.”

Aaron jumped, having assumed Cain had already gone, and it took him a moment to realize what he’d said.

“What?”

Cain was still on the landing, though he was just at the top of the stairs now, and he turned back to give Aaron another soft look, one which sat unnaturally on Cain’s face.

“Nothing. Just get some shut eye,” he said quietly, and then he really was gone, taking the stairs two at a time. Aaron heard the door slam a second later but he didn’t relax, couldn’t somehow. He simply sat on the bed, wondering what had just happened.

Week 3

“I saw Chas today,” Vic said, dragging the bobble from her hair and shaking it out a little, shoulders slumping.

His recuperation was going slightly better than the previous week, and the bruises had started to ease off, now tinged with a sickly yellow rather than the deep violet they’d been sporting before. Still, he hadn’t been able to shake that feeling of unease which had crept in when Cain had visited. It felt like his safe haven was no longer stable, but could fracture at any moment. Having his mum brought up was just another reminder of how close he was to the outside world, and how easy it would be for the outside world to knock at the door.

“Did you-?”

“Calm down,” she cut him off, unbuttoning her chef’s jacket and chucking it over the back of the sofa. “I didn’t say anything. But you should see her, Aaron, she’s going insane worrying about where you are.”

Evidently Vic found it just as difficult to tell the difference between upset and angry as Cain did. He shook his head, nestled as he was in his cocoon of blankets which Adam had bundled him up in that morning. If he hadn’t been shivering so violently, he would have told him where to go, but he’d been secretly relieved to have some warmth instilled back into his bones. He was coming off the stronger medication now and so he had very little to combat against his still tender muscles and broken bones. The blankets didn’t exactly help with that, but at least he wasn’t frozen as well.

“I can’t,” he said, trying desperately to focus on the grating voice of the chatshow host currently shouting something through the screen. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vic pause, and then she was sitting on the coffee table, elbows on her lap as she stared at him hard.

“She just wants to know you’re all right,” she said, coaxing, gentle. He hated when she did that. 

“I can’t.” It wasn’t as forceful as he’d wanted, more of a plea than anything else, and it gave Vic room to manoeuvre.

“I know you’re scared to face her. I know that. But she isn’t angry… I promise you, she really just wants to know you’re all right.” She felt for his hand, patting the blanket until she found his fingers and squeezed them gently. “Will you let me tell her?”

No. Because once you tell her, she’ll come round and then… I can’t see her. I can’t ever face her, not now that she knows.

“Vic…”

“She doesn’t have to come round,” she cut him off, and he thought again about how much time they had spent in each other’s company, how she seemed far too capable at reading his mind. It made his skin itch, to think someone knew him so well. He’d had someone like that before… and they’d used that knowledge to ruin his entire life. It probably wasn’t a wise move to let Robert’s sister get this close, considering how easily she could do the same.

“I think she’d settle for knowing you’re somewhere safe,” Vic finished softly, her eyes flicking round the room as if to make sure her home genuinely was as comforting an environment as she’d intended. Other than the frankly offensive chintz everywhere which was reminiscent of a thankfully bygone era, she was right. He’d never felt safer than he had here.

“What, you don’t think she’ll come marching over here?” he asked, his resolve remaining intact despite the prod she’d directed right at it’s heart.

“I’ll stop her if that’s what you want.”

“I’d like to see that.” He would as well. Victoria, all five feet of her, up against his mum and the rest of the Dingle clan. What a showdown that would be.

“Hey, I might be small but I’m hard as nails, really. I can handle Chas,” she laughed, and her sweetness only made her less convincing.

“Right you are.”

She leaned across and flicked his ear with her nail, causing him to feign outrage for all of a second before they both broke down into smiles.

“So, will you let me tell her?” she pushed, and he knew there was little point in arguing. She was like a bloody terrier once she got an idea into her head, not that he’d have said it out loud. Adam had made that mistake already, and Aaron had witnessed the consequences.

“Doesn’t sound like I have much choice,” he grumbled instead, at least wanting her to take note of his reluctance even if it didn’t actively change her mind.

She jumped from the table and squished him further into the sofa by sitting down next to him, her hand gripping his knee a little harder than he would ordinarily have liked. Her green eyes forced him to stare back, and there was something in her expression, something so genuine and sombre, which had his throat constricting.

“You always have a choice, Aaron,” she said, and he knew she meant it. “I’d never force you to do anything you really didn’t want to.”

His chest felt like it was crumbling beneath her gaze, weakening against all the relief and gratitude pulsating through his veins. It filled him to the brim, threatened to spill over, and he had to turn his gaze away just to stop himself saying too much.

“You can tell her.” He didn’t sound defeated, but it still felt like giving in, giving up. Like he’d lost something… or was about to.

“Okay.”

She got up and grabbed her duffle coat which was still a little damp from the rain outside. His mouth dropped open in surprise as he watched her button up the toggles and shook the pocket until she heard her house keys jangle.

“Wait… you’re going now?”

She looked back at him, eyes impossibly soft. “Yeah.”

He thought he’d have time. He thought he’d be able to process all of it – what he was going to say, what his mum would say, how he’d feel when she left him again. He didn’t think it would happen now.

“Right.”

“And if she wants to come and see you?” Vic asked tentatively, tucking her hair behind her ears.

He shook his head, still dumbfounded. “I don’t know,” he answered, and it was the most honest he’d ever been with anyone in a long time. He really didn’t know.

“Okay.”

He watched her slip out into the hallway, heard the front door open, and his heart punched a sickening beat against his shattered ribs.

“Vic?” he called, his voice taut and shaking.

“Yeah?” she shouted back, and a frozen breath of wind crept in through the house, making him shiver.

“She can come and see me,” he finished, and he had no idea why he’d said it, or what he thought would happen if he took this step. He’d probably end up over the edge, but at least he could say he’d been brave. Sometimes it was brave to fall.

“Okay,” he heard her reply, and there was relief in her voice, even if it was strained a little. He knew the feeling. He doubted either of them really knew how Chas would react once she saw her son again. He wasn’t sure he could even call himself that anymore. She definitely wouldn’t want him to.

The door swung shut and the ensuing silence might well have crushed him were it not for the continual drone from the TV. He stared at it, hating the smiling faces of the contestants, the laughing host, the flashing signs screaming ‘BIG MONEY’. His thumb jabbed at the off button until eventually it shut down, the screen snapping to black in an instant. He regretted it almost immediately, now left with nothing but the ticking of his heart counting down the seconds till his mum would be standing in front of him. He kept one ear trained on the door, almost willing it to open just to have it over with. He couldn’t handle the dread building inside him, pushing against the walls of his stomach, inflating him with this hollow weight. He wanted to puncture whatever mass was inside him, to let it all come rushing out, but instead it just kept mounting, rising into his chest, snaking up his throat…

He grabbed a cushion from the sofa and pressed his face into the thick, slightly coarse material, breathing out one long, even breath before drawing it back in again.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this. God, I can’t… I can’t do this.

Saliva pooled in his mouth, he felt his heartbeat ricocheting off the inside of his skull, and suddenly the need to be sick overtook him. He braced his hands on either side of the sofa, swinging his legs round, and curled his toes into the carpet, willing himself to get up. He needed to get up, get to the sink, get somewhere cold and quiet and dark…

“Aaron?”

He swallowed whatever nausea had been about to devour him and let out a slightly strangled groan.

“Yeah?”

He heard Vic’s movements in the hallway but the living-room door was closed. “Your mum’s here. Is it okay if she comes in?”

No. Anything but that.

“Yeah,” he said again, because he had always worked against his own interests, had never done what was best for himself. He was always stepping onto the tracks, onto oncoming traffic, always making the wrong choice. Even when he wasn’t hurting himself… he was.

He heard the door swing open but he couldn’t look up, didn’t want to see the look on his mum’s face when she first saw him. He only hoped Vic had warned her, because he’d seen his reflection in the mirror and he was sure there were some corpses who looked better than him.

“Oh, God… Aaron…” Her voice broke immediately and he couldn’t help but glance up then, meeting her dark eyes instantly which were glassy with tears. He opened his mouth, willed himself to say the words he hadn’t formed in his mind, but nothing came.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter because she was in front of him, on her knees with her hands on either side of his face, and then she was pulling him closer. Her arms went around his shoulders, her fingers knotted into his hair, and he felt her lips against his ear, the side of his head, his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure who was saying it because they were both struggling against the tears. He just burrowed deeper into her touch, let her pull him tighter, ignored the cold dampness where her rain-soaked jacket stuck to his t-shirt. He was shaking, he knew that, but so was she, the two of them trembling as they clung on for dear life. He’d never been so grateful to have her here.

“No, don’t… don’t… It’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m here now.”

And she was. She wasn’t leaving, she wasn’t running away. She didn’t have a bag packed in the corner, telling him with a broken voice to be good for his dad even as she had one foot out the door. She was here, she was staying, and it had seemed impossible… but it was happening all the same.

“I’m sorry, mum,” he sobbed, but it had nothing to do with now. He was sorry for hating her, and sorry for not coming to her sooner. He was sorry for not getting in touch, and sorry for going down the path he had. He was sorry for all the choices he’d made, for placing his trust in those he shouldn’t have, for not taking better care of his heart and giving it too willingly to the wrong people. He was sorry for staying away so long, and for not believing her when she gave him advice. And more than anything, he was sorry for not being a better son. She deserved so much more than he had to give.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re going to be all right now.”

Her hand was flattening the crown of his head, her mouth shushing him gently as she rocked them together, back and forth as he sobbed against her shoulder. His bitten nails dug into her arms, dragging her closer still, needing to drown in the smell and warmth of her. He’d missed this. He hadn’t known what it would feel like, hadn’t wanted to believe they could have this, but now… God, he wanted it forever.

Each cry crashed then ebbed inside his chest, shattering off his ribs like a wave. He tried pushing them down, tried drowning them out, but there was only so long he could keep himself together. He’d been trying so hard, he’d managed so well, but there really was nothing like being enveloped by his mother’s embrace to fracture what little strength he’d been holding onto.

Eventually though, the tears dried and his breathing eased, coming less in choking gasps and more in deep, shaking sighs against her shoulder. Her fingers raked through his hair, still shushing him gently, and when they broke apart a little, she kept her hands on his cheeks, the connection between them unbroken.

“Better?” She was smiling, the corners of her mouth wavering, and he nodded, blinking through the tears.

“Sorry.”

She kissed his forehead quickly before pulling back, her eyes black pools. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Here… come here, let me dry your eyes, eh?” she whispered, thumb softly stroking beneath his eyes to take away the last of his tears. “There we go, all gone now.”

It sounded like something she might have said to him as a child. Maybe she had done, back when his life wasn’t utterly fucked and he still had innocence to protect him. All gone now.

“Thanks.”

“My little boy,” she murmured, her thumb still skimming his cheek. “Look what they’ve done to you…”

He ducked his head to try and hide but she held him steady, kept him focused on her.

“Who did this to you?” There was an edge to her voice which made him shiver, want to pull away. It was only knowing that her anger wasn’t directed at him which stopped him shrinking back.

“It… It doesn’t matter now. It’s done,” he answered, wanting to avoid yet another Dingle member threatening to chop Ronnie off at the knees.

“Was it Sugden? Because I swear, if-”

“No!” Aaron exclaimed immediately, even the idea of Robert… Well, maybe it wasn’t as impossible as it seemed. He’d threatened much worse on Katie. “No, it was just… random. I was jumped, that’s all.”

He hated lying to her, especially after everything, but this was necessary. He wouldn’t drag her any deeper into his past, not now that it was over. He needed to keep her safe.

She cupped his cheek again, eyes softer than he’d ever known them. A mother’s eyes. “You can tell me, you know. You can tell me.”

“I promise, it was just a random attack-”

“That’s not what I meant,” she interrupted gently, and a part of him had already known that. He’d just been delaying the inevitable a little while longer. He fumbled with the white tie of his hoodie, looping it tightly around his finger until the tip went purple, the blood making it swell and throb. He waited a second or two, just staring, before releasing it, his shoulders slumping as he did so. He still couldn’t look at her.

“I don’t know what to say,” he murmured, pressing his palms flat against his knees. Chas immediately placed her own on top of his, warm and dry and reassuring.

“Anything you want, love. You know that.”

He didn’t. He’d never known that, and maybe he didn’t quite believe it even now. But maybe… maybe he could tell her.

“What- What do you want to know?”

She breathed a sigh and came to sit beside him on the sofa, the seat dipping under her weight. She kept her hand on his.

“I want to know if what… he said was true?”

“Yes.” It came out in a rush, almost sharp despite how terrified he was. He couldn’t allow the fear to take hold and swallow whole his confirmation.

Her grip on his hand tightened, as if she thought he might bolt, and maybe he would have without her holding on to him. He’d never really had an anchor before, or not one that hadn’t been ripped from the seabed moments later. He’d thought… but Robert wasn’t that. Robert had never been an anchor. He’d been a bit of driftwood which Aaron had clung onto, but it had crumbled beneath his hands the moment the waters got choppy.

“So you… that’s… what you were doing, then? Before you came back here?” She sounded afraid, her hesitancy making him twitch.

“Yeah.”

He felt her grow tense beside him and wondered if she was going to run. Maybe he’d been wrong to put his faith in her so easily after all this time. Maybe-

“All right,” she said, and it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. “Well…  it doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her then, incredulous, but her stare didn’t waver.

“It doesn’t… matter?” he questioned, his whole body rigid, waiting for the bomb to drop. He could hear it whistling through the air already.

She grabbed his hands between her own, squeezed them so tightly that the warmth began to radiate up and down his arms.

“No, it doesn’t matter. Because you’re my son, and you’re back with me now. That’s all I care about, all right?”

He felt the tide crash into him again, felt the tears slowly rising, and he ground his teeth together to stop them surfacing. He would keep himself together now, for her sake. He could be strong now.

“Okay,” he said, and when she pulled him in for another hug he went without hesitation, just wrapped a bruised arm around her waist and tucked his face against her neck.

She smelled of home.

Week 4

It was a belated Valentine’s Day treat according to Adam. He hadn’t exactly forgotten the 14^th of February, or so he had said a week or so later when Vic was still giving him the cold shoulder, but more that he’d been so busy up at the farm that it had… slipped his mind.

Aaron had helped him pick out a nice restaurant and told him to go for flowers as well because Vic really had looked angry the last time he’d seen her. He’d watched Adam beaming at the bottom of the stairs as Vic made her way down in a new dress, smiled as Adam wolf-whistled and Vic blushed.

“Have a good night!” he’d called as Adam helped Vic on with her jacket and the taxi beeped its horn outside.

“You sure you’re gonna be all right?” Vic had called back, and Aaron had rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Go on, go have fun!”

So they’d left and Aaron had settled down to watch a re-run of Indiana Jones. He could vaguely remember Robert geeking out over Harrison Ford but he put the thought to the back of his mind, just enjoyed the fact he had the house to himself and that within half an hour he’d likely be asleep-

“Only me!”

The knock on the front door came after the shout, and Aaron momentarily wondered whether everyone in the village just barged into other people’s houses without making their presence known, or if it was particular to Keeper’s.

“Mum?” he called back, trying to twist round despite his ribs still being tender. The doctor had told him they were healing nicely, but that the extent of his injuries had meant it would likely be another week or two before he was properly back on his feet. It didn’t matter as much to him now - he wasn’t planning on leaving anymore.

“Yeah, just me. Moira said that Adam and Vic were off on a date so I thought I’d pop round, make sure you weren’t lonely,” she said, now coming into the living-room and already slipping off her jacket. “You been all right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, trying to regain some focus on the film but knowing already it wouldn’t work. She was here to stay, apparently. “You didn’t have to come round, you know.”

“Oh, that’s charming, that is! Can’t your old mum want to spend a bit of time with her only son?” She was smiling even as she said it. He hadn’t seen her smile this much in… he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her smile this much.

“Course you can… just didn’t expect you over, that’s all.”

She gave him the once over with a critical gaze. “Obviously. You know, it wouldn’t kill you to have a wash, maybe put on some clean clothes.”

He dropped his eyes to his slightly stained t-shirt now covered in crumbs and scowled. “It’s not exactly easy when I can’t lift my arms above my head. Takes me over an hour just to get the shampoo in.”

She sighed, hands on her hips in a way that only meant one thing: trouble.

“Well… why don’t you let me help?” she suggested, and the lightness in her tone did nothing to appease his dread.

“What?” he scoffed, already pushing himself back into the sofa a little more.

“I could run you a bath, wash your hair-”

“No way am I letting you wash me. I’m not five!” he half-yelled, the shock barely numbing his absolute outrage at the mere idea.

“We’ll put loads of bubbles in. I won’t see anything!” she countered, and that smile was back again, evidently amused at his reaction.

He rubbed a hand over his face and tried very hard not to scream. “Jesus, we are not having this conversation.”

“Love, you need a proper soak. When was the last time you actually showered?”

“So I stink now, that it?” he retorted, glaring at her. She barely raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t saying that.”

“No, course you weren’t. Look… it’s embarrassing. I’m not gonna have you seeing me… like that,” he finished a little flatly, his skin practically crawling. This was the last thing he wanted to be discussing.

“You do realize I changed you and bathed you for a good few years? There’s nothing you’ve got that I haven’t already seen before,” she pointed out, and Aaron gave her another glare which again went completely ignored.

“It’s not happening.”

“Oh, it is,” she replied immediately, and then she was gone. He heard the staircase creaking as she went up to the bathroom and a few seconds later he heard the taps running. Dread coiled tight in his belly and his hand instinctively went to his torso, fingers fluttering over the scars he knew were hidden beneath his t-shirt.

“Mum, come on!” he yelled above the water running, hoping his anger would make her desist. When she came back down, hands a little soapy, she looked triumphant rather than defeated.

“Right, let’s get you upstairs,” she said, already hooking an arm around his waist and pulling him to his feet. He groaned in pain, ribs aching against the movement.

“We’re not doing this,” he said weakly even as she dragged him towards the door.

“We are because you haven’t had a proper wash in weeks and it’s showing. Sooner you’re in, sooner you’re out and you can forget the whole thing.”

The stairs were easier this time, not that that was a blessing considering it meant he was in the bathroom far quicker than he would have liked. The bath had been filled almost to the rim and a thick layer of foam sat on top, glistening under the ceiling light.

“Just shout me once you’re in,” she said, already closing the door behind her. He stared at the bath, wondering if he could feasibly climb out of the window and jump down onto the ground without killing himself, and then decided it wasn’t an option.

Getting his t-shirt over his head was just as monumental a task as it had been when he’d come out of hospital, every muscle stiff and aching as he peeled off the, admittedly stale and sticky, fabric from his skin. He pushed off his pyjama bottoms with ease and then took a moment to glance down at his stomach, marked as it was by a series of scars all intersecting at different points. He traced his finger down each of them, remembering instantly the number of times he’d sat alone in the boxing club, darkness closing in, and sought some kind of solace in the blade he had hidden under his sleeping-bag.

He steered his thoughts away, instead climbing awkwardly into the bathtub and immediately swiping all the foam up towards his chest so that none of the scars (or anything below that) could be seen. The steam curled his hair immediately and he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead before calling his mum back in again.

When she entered, her shoulders visibly dropped with relief and she instantly came to sit on the lid of the toilet, facing him.

“Right, I’ve brought a jug so I can wash your hair and I’ve got you some soap as well.”

“Great, thanks. Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbled, knowing he should have been grateful for her help but unable to stop his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

That was until she began to pour the warm water over his hair, and suddenly he felt himself easing further down into the bath, his eyes falling shut as she began to massage the shampoo into his scalp.

“See?” she said quietly, rubbing a little harder at the roots. “I told you this is what you needed.”

He said nothing, just nodded and slipped a little further down, sighed as he felt the water running down his neck and back again. Her hand came up to smooth back his hair, the water removing all the lather. He didn’t even notice it had stopped until he heard her gasp, and then his eyes flew open, shampoo stinging the corners. The foam had melted a little with the steam and part of his stomach was visible through the water.

“Aaron…”

“Shit,” he hissed, covering the scars with his arm. She’d seen them though, the look on her face told him that.

“Oh, love, did they-?”

“No. No, this wasn’t them,” he pushed in, panic stopping any thoughts from forming coherently. He didn’t even realize how good an excuse that would have been until he’d already dismissed it. He could have easily blamed his scars on the mystery assailant who had attacked him, but now…

“I don’t understand,” she breathed, still staring in horror at the red and silver lines rippling beneath the water.

“Can we… can we not talk about it?” he asked shakily, now bringing his other arm to cover the remaining ones still showing through.

“But-”

“It’s just… I can’t…”

“Aaron, just let me help,” she whispered, placing a warm, wet hand against the side of his neck. “Please don’t push me away.”

He told himself it was the shampoo or the hot steam that was making his eyes water, but he’d never been a very good liar, not even to himself. “I don’t know how to tell you,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to his shoulder and desperately forcing down the panicked sob waiting to break.

She knelt down by the bath then, her hand coming to rest on the rim, and he shivered at the loss of contact. “Try… for me. Please?”

Don’t do it. She’ll run, you know she’ll run. There’s only so much one person can put up with. Robert proved that.

“I didn’t get them… from the attack. I… no one did this,” he stammered, wanting to jump from the bath and bolt. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

“But then how-?”

“I did it,” he cut her off, the regret almost nauseating in the back of his throat. “It was me.”

She rocked back too far and he heard her back hit off the side of the toilet. “You?” she breathed, mouth gaping open.

“It’s not a big deal…”

“Oh, Aaron…”

“It’s fine,” he tried again, because it was. It had to be. “It’s all fine. I just… It helped at the time. It helped… feeling a different sort of pain, I suppose.” He hadn’t meant to say that, even if it was true. He hadn’t wanted her to know any part of this.

“I don’t understand.”

There was something so disconcerting about seeing a parent lost. It was as if the roles had been reversed, as if he was now the adult, eyes wide open to the realities of this world, while she was still sheltered by innocence. He wished, more than ever, that they could have gone back to when things were the other way around.

“You don’t have to,” he replied instead, keeping his voice soft, forgiving. “All you need to know is that I’m not doing it anymore. I’ve stopped.”

Her knees shook with the exertion of keeping crouched and eventually she came to sit back on the toilet lid. “Just like that?” she questioned, sounding wary, still disbelieving. He couldn’t say he blamed her in all honesty. He hardly looked like the picture of mental stability.

“I’m trying. I’m trying to be better… to not… I am trying.”

It wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough. He wasn’t enough.

“Oh, love, I’m not saying you’re not.” Her voice broke at the end and he couldn’t help but catch her eye, hating himself for what he was putting her through. She didn’t deserve to have her world shaken this badly, not because of him, anyway.

“Come on, let’s get you a towel, yeah? We’ll get you all nice and cosy in bed. I’ll make you a hot water bottle, how does that sound?” The forced cheerfulness did nothing to help ease his guilt, but at the very least she wasn’t pushing him to answer her questions, and for that he was grateful.

“Yeah… Can you maybe turn around?”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she immediately jumped from her seat. “Oh, course!” she exclaimed, whirling round so she faced the door. He pushed down his smile, instead focusing on the near-impossible task of getting out of the bath without his foot slipping or another rib breaking.

He braced his hands on either side of the bath and pushed himself up, biting down on a groan when his back began to give under the weight of keeping himself upright. Eventually he was standing, albeit shakily, and he got out with far more effort than should have been required for so simple a task. He grabbed the towel that Chas had folded neatly for him and wrapped it tightly around his waist, his arm still across his stomach to hide the marked skin beneath.

“Okay, I’m done,” he said, and chanced a nervous smile when she turned around. She did her best to return it but her eyes flicked down despite her best efforts and he knew what she was thinking.

“Right, easy does it. We’ll just take it steady.”

They shuffled gingerly back out onto the landing and then through to his room. He couldn’t lean on her too much, knowing he’d had to do that more than he’d wanted already, and he was glad once he had the option of sitting on his bed.

“I’ll just go make that hot water bottle,” she said hurriedly, not waiting for his reply as she took the stairs two at a time. When she came back up, he’d managed to get dressed into a fresh pair of boxers and a clean t-shirt and was already covered by the duvet.

“There we go,” she said, forcing another smile as she tucked the hot water bottle against his side.

“Thanks.”

She was sat close to him, her legs dangling off the bed and her thumb and forefinger nervously rubbing the duvet cover until it was crinkled beneath her touch.

“We’ll just take our time, eh?” she ventured quietly, eyes cautious but pleading. “We won’t rush it, any of it.”

He knew what she was saying and nodded, not wanting this to go any further. “Okay.”

“Because we’ve got all the time in the world now,” she continued on regardless, and he pushed down the part of him wanting to dash from the room. “So… you just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be here when you need me.”

His throat felt swollen and it took him a few goes before he could get himself to speak.

“Thanks.”

She gave him another smile, infinitely more genuine and gut-wrenchingly sad. The sort of smile that wavered with exertion, the corners pulling down as she struggled not to cry. “I know I wasn’t there for you before. But I’m going to be here from now on, all right? I won’t be letting you down again.”

“Mum-”

“No,” she stopped him, and her bottom lip quivered a little. “No… I need to say it. It was wrong of me to leave you, and I know that now. But I’m going to make it up to you, Aaron. I’m going to be better for you, I promise I will. And if you ever feel… unhappy again, you just come to me, okay? All you have to do is call me and I’ll… I’ll come running.”

A single tear dropped down onto her cheek and he felt a sudden impulse to pull her towards him. His hand reached out and she leant into it, wrapping him up with her arms, her nose rubbing a little at his collarbone.

“It’s okay. I know that, I know that now,” he whispered, brushing down her wiry curls as he begged her silently not to cry. He couldn’t handle seeing her upset, not when it was him who had caused it.

“I love you so much. You have no idea how much I love you,” she said, slightly muffled against his t-shirt, but he caught the words all the same. He doubted he’d have mistook them even in a hurricane – he’d been desperate to hear her say them all his life.

His heart gave a little and he pulled her tighter still, breathing in the faded smell of her, the one he’d chased in his dreams when she’d been just a shadow, a silhouette he’d never managed to pull into focus. His courage, bruised and broken as it was, swelled violently on her words alone, and he took a deep breath before saying:

“I love you, too.” And he meant it. He really did.

Chapter Text

Week 1

The red horizon burned fiercely through the bedroom window, the light bleeding out across the walls like a violent, crimson stain. Robert listened to the sound of his own breathing, deep and even, and curled his fingers tightly into the crumpled pillow beneath his cheek. His skin felt taut and raw beneath his eyes, his lashes prising themselves apart only to flutter shut a moment later when the light became too much to handle.

The night had been a form of protection for him, hiding most of the room in midnight blues and charcoal greys, but the harsh, morning sun meant every corner of the room was illuminated. Robert cast his eyes from Aaron’s belt coiled around the bed-post to his charger still plugged into the wall, cataloguing the little, domestic details of their life together which left him aching, bruised. In the confines of these four walls, Aaron still existed – his smell and his things created a false presence which Robert both clung to and reeled from. He was in a state of excruciating internal conflict, the seams ripping and snapping as he was torn in opposing directions.

He stayed staring out of the window until the sky burnt itself out, the vibrant auburn haze fading into a colder blue. The shadows crept further across the carpet, leeching light from the room and dropping Robert back into his previous state of obscurity.

He needed to get up.

He needed to move.

He needed…

The feeling ballooned inside him, that restless, nauseous, untethered sensation which had his chest expanding and compressing all at once. He pushed his face further into the pillow, tried to breathe even as the weight of yesterday crushed down on him. His heart was a startled bird, frantically beating its wings against his ribcage, fluttering rapidly as he choked down a sob or a scream. He couldn't tell which anymore.

He wouldn’t do this again. He wouldn’t be consumed by it, not so soon after last night. He’d get up, he’d get washed and dressed, and then he’d pick up the broken shards of his life and he’d stick them back together.

Only that meant opening his eyes, confronting the empty bedroom, the emptier flat. It meant seeing the dip in the mattress which fitted perfectly around the sharp jut of Aaron’s hipbone, or the pool of dark clothes on the chair which Aaron was incapable of folding, or the tangled earphones hanging out of the top drawer waiting for Aaron to plug into his phone.

It meant facing up to the absence of him, and knowing that absence would continue until Robert stopped noticing it, until the day when he no longer ached for Aaron as though he was missing a limb. Robert wasn’t sure which would be worse – missing him or the absence of missing him – and in all honesty, he had no intention of finding out anytime soon.

The alarm went off on his phone, vibrating against the carpet, and Robert groaned, cursing himself for not switching it off. He dragged his tired body to the edge of the bed and made a grab for it, stretching out his arm until his fingers caught the cool, metallic edge. He flipped it over, intending to switch it off, but then he saw the green band at the bottom of the screen.

Someone was calling him.

Aaron.

He half-slid off the bed, his knee thudding painfully against the floor, hissing out a series of swears as he clutched the phone and pressed it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Fucking finally! Where the Hell are you?”

It wasn’t Aaron.

It wasn’t Aaron.

He’d been so sure it would be Aaron.

“Wh- What?” he stammered, rubbing a hand over his eyes and pushing himself into a sitting position, the hard edge of the bed digging into his spine.

“Robert, you better tell me you’re about to walk through that door any second or I swear to God, neither our friendship or your previously stellar reputation is going to prevent me from firing you.”

Ollie’s rough, Edinburgh accent cut through the silence, dousing Robert in cold water. He sighed, curled his toes into the carpet and repressed a shiver.

“I’m not feeling well,” he explained, and to be fair it wasn’t exactly a lie. He couldn’t remember feeling worse.

“Bullshit,” Ollie returned with an unsympathetic gruffness which Robert was more than used to. They’re friendship, such as it was, had been forged over late nights and later drinks, spitting insults at each other when the stress was getting too much and then laughing it off the next morning when they were both battling horrifically bad hangovers. Neither of them had made any room for kindness or generosity and usually that was exactly what Robert liked about their friendship.

Not today.

“I’m not, Ollie,” he tried, knowing full well it wasn’t going to wash.

“Robert, I’ve seen you outperform everyone else at this firm when you were battling a stomach flu so bad you were throwing up in the toilets in-between meetings. Illness has never stopped you before.”

That was definitely true. He could remember struggling into the office, doubled-over and desperately trying not to be sick, and then astounding everyone in the boardroom by coming out with a sensational pitch that almost had him bowing at the end… or just doubling over again to try and relieve some of the stomach ache.

“I just… I just can’t come in today,” he said, and if he had been in any doubt over his compromised faculties, that lacklustre excuse was enough to hammer the point well and truly home.

“And you couldn’t have told me this sooner? You know Michael Devlin is going to be here next week to talk to you? You know that if you decide to bugger off on that day then he’ll take his business elsewhere and we’ll have lost one of our biggest clients?”

It took him a good few seconds to even remember who Michael Devlin was, and even when he did, the memory was so fuzzy that all he could offer was: “I’ll be there for that. You don’t have to worry.”

“Worry?” Ollie immediately scoffed down the line, his tone sharp and aggressive. “Fucking Hell, Robert, I’m well passed worrying. I’m at the point where I’m seriously wondering if you’ve got a split personality! One minute you’re laughing and joking round the office, signing deals left, right and bloody centre, and the next you’re going missing for days on end, coming in looking like a fucking extra from The Walking Dead, and barely saying a word!”

Robert had to take the phone away from his ear while Ollie was yelling just to save his eardrum from bursting. If it had been any other day, he would have fought back just as hard, the two of them sparring like champions in the ring. But today Robert felt wrecked, hollowed out and shaken, and he just didn’t have the energy to fight.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t know, maybe give me a reason for all this! I’m not asking for much, Robert, just for you to show up on time.”

“I will. From now on, I will.” Except that wasn’t a promise he could keep, hadn’t kept, and they both knew it.

“You’ve heard the phrase ‘tomorrow never comes’, right?”

Robert rolled his eyes because Ollie was being his usual self, throwing in idioms as if that immediately gave him the upper-hand. You’re just pissed off because it makes me sound wise and it makes you sound like a dunce when you’ve got no idea what I’m talking about, Ollie had said to him, grinning over the rim of his whisky glass before downing it in one. Robert had thrown a stapler at his head rather than responding and Ollie had just managed to duck it before the two of them broke down into fits of laughter. It hadn’t even been that long ago… but it felt like years now.

“I’ll come in. I promise.”

“Well you’ll excuse me if your promises count for jack shit right now. I need a solid-gold guarantee that I’m actually going to see your ugly mug, and not in some alternate version of reality where you revert back to being a functioning human being.”

Robert winced, knowing full well he deserved most of what was being thrown at him but appreciating none of it nevertheless. Ollie had always been good at keeping him grounded, even when he had made partner and they were passing a champagne bottle between them. Golden boys, that’s what we are, Robert had said, tipsy and warm and laughing despite the twisted part of his mind which reminded him that all this counted for nothing when there was no one he cared about to see it. Aye, but don’t you forget that I’m fucking Tiffany's and you’re that cheap shite from Argos, Ollie had replied and received a heavy punch to the arm from Robert.

“Give me a few days to sort my head out and then-”

“No, I’m giving you today and tomorrow but that’s it,” Ollie bit back, losing patience fast if he had had any to start off with. Robert severely doubted it. “If it was anyone else, I’d have fired them by now without a reference. Wednesday, Robert, all right?”

Wednesday.

Two days from now and he’d have to put on a suit, get in his car, head off to work like… like it was normal. Like his life hadn’t just been ripped to shreds in front of his very eyes.

“Yeah, fine,” he muttered, teeth grinding together. The bitter taste in his mouth remained.

“Great, glad to hear you’re so enthusiastic about the prospect.”

Robert almost bit down on the inside of his cheek and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, fingers digging into the carpet hard.

“Ollie, just get off my back and-”

“If you dare try and start something with me right now, I swear I will rain so much shit down on you you’ll think it’s fucking tsunami season. Am I clear?”

Robert could hear the static down the line, the fraught silence which had the hairs on his arms rising. He could bite back with something, or tell Ollie to stick his job and then hang up. But if he did that then he truly would have nothing. He couldn’t lose anymore than he already had.

“Crystal,” he replied, but his tone was cold and he knew Ollie had heard it.

“Good. I want you in this office by nine on Wednesday morning. If you’re not here then don’t bother coming back at all.”

“Fine. See you Wednesday, then,” he said and ended the call before throwing his mobile across the room where it smacked hard against the dresser. He hadn’t checked if there had been any other messages but he didn’t need to. Aaron wouldn’t want anything to do with him and neither would Vic.

No man is an island, he thought as he got to his feet, legs unsteady as he gripped the bedpost. But this man is…

***

The rest of Monday was spent tidying the kitchen, his memory having vastly underestimated the extent of the damage when he’d woke. He had two bin bags full by the time he was done and he piled them on top of each other in the hallway, refusing to venture outside to get rid of them.

Coward, the voice inside his head hissed, and he pushed it down even as the shame coiled tight and heavy inside him.

By the time it got to evening he felt exhausted with just the sheer pace of thinking he’d been doing, forcing himself to relive every second of the previous day right up until the moment he looked over and saw Aaron had disappeared.

I’ll find out from him, you know. Whatever’s been going on between the two of you, I’ll get it out of him eventually.

It was strange that his mind should cling to that more than anything else. Maybe he just couldn’t stomach remembering anything too closely connected with Aaron himself, but evidently his brain had no problem replaying what his mother had said over and over again.

He hadn’t felt anything about the threat at the time, too caught up in the knowledge that all he’d carefully built and held onto was now destroyed, a ruin of bricks and dust. Irreparable. But now? Now he remembered the determination in her dark eyes, felt the twist in his gut as he thought about what she meant.

In the end, he took a blanket and a pillow through to the living-room and watched half a series of Game of Thrones before going to sleep. He couldn’t go back through to his room, couldn’t face the idea of sleeping in that bed which had always been meant for two and then waking to find it still empty, still with the smell of Aaron ingrained into the sheets. He switched his phone off just before he went to sleep, ignoring the empty screen devoid of any messages or voicemails. He chucked it under the coffee table and turned his back on it, on the world which had been reduced to just this flat, the place he had almost believed could be his home, and shut his eyes.

When he woke again, it was to the shrill sound of the buzzer going off in the hallway. There was light pouring in through the slightly open curtains and for one terrifying moment he thought he had fallen into some real-life version of Groundhog Day, forced to relive the same day over and over until he made the right decision. But then he realised he was on the sofa instead of his bed, and that he was now on Day Two of being a social pariah.

It took him a second or two to regain his balance, his equilibrium having been distorted from sleeping somewhere both uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but eventually he managed to drag himself through to the hallway and pressed the button, leaning into the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Can you let us in?”

He blinked, staring at the speaker and wondering how it was possible that he had just heard his sister’s voice.

“Vic?” he chanced, slightly tempted to believe he was still dreaming.

“Yeah, can you let us in?” she said again, this time more exasperated. And while his ears focused intently on the clipped, defensive bite of her tone, his brain clung onto her use of the word us.

Aaron.

“Well… yeah, okay,” he replied haltingly, pressing the button below so the door to Mill Cottage would unlock. He realised suddenly that he was wearing his sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt which he was now fairly convinced belonged to Aaron judging by the fact the hem didn’t go past his belly button. He stretched it down, knowing there was no time to change, and unlocked the front door, letting it swing open.

Victoria and Adam stood in the doorway, each of them looking more unimpressed than the other.

“Oh. I thought-”

“Don’t worry, we’re not staying long, just getting Aaron’s stuff,” Adam cut in, already shouldering his way into the flat. Robert stumbled back, too shocked to argue, and turned to Vic for some kind of explanation.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t make this difficult, Robert. Let’s just get it over and done with,” she sighed but she was barely able to look at him, instead glancing from the kitchen to the living-room and finally halting on the closed door which led to Robert’s office.

“You can’t just get his stuff, you need his permission for that,” he said, more to stall for time than because he genuinely had an issue with it. They couldn’t be allowed any further down the hall, especially when his and Aaron’s bedroom was currently on full view.

“We’ve got it.”

At first, Robert didn’t quite register what Adam was saying, but then his eyes widened, the meaning becoming clear. “You’ve heard from him?” he breathed, the relief coursing through him like a jolt of adrenaline. He hadn’t even realised how worried he’d been until he knew Aaron was safe, or at the very least in contact with someone.

“Yeah, we’ve spoken to him and he just wants us to get his things,” Vic answered, still looking over his shoulder at the office door. When she made to take a step forwards, he blocked her path.

“Wait… Right, hang on, I’ll… Just let me get it all sorted for you.” He was buying time, mainly so he could come up with a reason for why Aaron’s room was now an office, or had always been an office, but also because his mind was slowly picking over the fact that Vic had been in contact with Aaron. Had he come back to the village? Was he lying low somewhere in town? Had he gone back to Leeds?

“No, just let us into his room and we’ll do it ourselves,” Adam demanded, and for all his boyish charm, Robert had slightly forgotten that this was the same man who had quite happily torched the garage with Cain still inside.

You and Andy would get on a treat, he thought spitefully, raising a hand to stop him from getting any further.

“It’s my flat, I’m not going to have you waltzing round and taking anything you want.”

“We’re not thieves, Robert!” Vic exclaimed and there was hurt behind her eyes, making them glisten horribly. Robert backed down immediately, softening as he always did where she was concerned.

“No, I didn’t mean… It’s just I know what’s his so…”

“Well everything in his room will be his, right?” Adam cut him off again, impatient and irate, a combination which wouldn’t have sat well on anyone but least of all someone who was usually so sickeningly cheerful. He almost took it as a compliment, that Adam’s sunny disposition was able to be clouded so easily just by having Robert in the same room.

Adam tried to take another step forwards and Robert became conscious of how very open his bedroom door was.

“No… It’s… Right, just let me get ready first, yeah? I’ll-”

“Look, we’re not hanging about all day.”

He’d been making his way down the hallway, already coming up with a fool-proof plan, when he felt Adam shoulder passed him.

“No, stop!” he yelled, the panic making his voice sound strangled, but Adam was already at the office door, pushing it open with a hard twist of the handle. The three of them stood a moment, silent as they took in the desk, the swivel chair, and the bookshelf with its row of binders and stacks of paperwork. 

“Oh… When did you turn this into an office?” Vic asked, sounding more curious than suspicious. Robert thought he was going to be sick.

“I… Not long ago.”

“So where’s Aaron’s room?” she continued, eyebrows raised expectantly. He could barely hear her over the punch of his pulse at the base of his neck.

He took a step backwards, stumbled on nothing, and then started backing up towards his room, their room. Adam followed him, Vic just behind, the two of them like hunters cornering their prey. Robert put a hand out but he couldn’t find the words… he didn’t now what to say.

“Robert?” Vic almost looked concerned and for a second he thought about doing it, saying the words. It was our room, Vic. Ours, not his or mine.

But he couldn’t. He just… couldn’t.

“Stay here. All right? Stay here,” he said forcefully, keeping his eyes on them as he felt his way down the hall, knowing the bedroom wasn’t too far behind him. If he could just get inside, get the door closed, then he’d be safe. He just needed to get the door closed.

He was so focused on Vic, on making sure she stayed, that he didn’t notice Adam’s jaw tightening, his hands curling into fists.

“You’ve got someone in here, don’t you? That’s it, isn’t it?” he said, incredulous. Vic glanced up at him, mouth gaping open in shock, before turning back to Robert.

“Is that why you want us to go?” she asked, and he shook his head immediately even as he kept backing up, one hand still out to stop them.

“No.”

“Yes,” Adam said over the top of him, his whole body tensed, ready.

Robert took another step backwards, felt the heel of his foot hit the ridge of the doorway. He’d made it. He’d made-

Adam stormed forwards, rolling his eyes with an exasperated shake of his head, and Robert blocked the doorway, one hand on the wooden frame as if that would make any difference.

“Don’t-” he started but got no further. Adam was already in front of him, trying to see over his shoulder. Robert grabbed his arm, made to push him away, but Adam was a lot stronger, his fingers curling into Aaron’s t-shirt and pulling Robert away from the doorway.

“Don’t,” he said again, but this time it was a plea. He was begging, not demanding.

Adam didn’t listen, shouldered his way past till he was standing inside the bedroom. Robert felt the wall at his back, the only thing keeping him for just sliding onto the floor, and watched as Vic took a tentative step forwards.

“What’s going on?”

Adam said nothing, just stood and stared at the unmade double bed, Aaron’s clothes hanging over the back of the chair, the open wardrobe revealing a row of crisp, clean shirts pressed against a couple of dark jumpers, a purple hoodie…

He closed his eyes for a moment, relished the silence and darkness as if he were slipping into sleep, and then felt a ripple of air brush against his skin as Vic moved passed him into the room. He waited, didn’t dare open his eyes yet, knowing exactly what he’d see. He just kept leaning against the wall, kept telling himself to breathe, that it would be over soon. It had to be over soon.

“I don’t understand,” he heard her murmur, and that was enough. He couldn’t take it any longer.

He turned, eyes open now and smarting, and hurried back down the hallway, slipping into the kitchen and yanking open the cupboard under the sink. There was a roll of black binbags and he ripped off a handful before marching back down again, forcing himself not to look directly at them.

“Here. Grab whatever’s his and then get out of my flat,” he snarled, shoving the binbags at Adam before immediately heading in the direction of the bathroom. He heard Adam say something under his breath but he didn’t stop to listen, not wanting to know. Instead he half-launched himself inside and slammed the door behind him, making sure to lock it. He wouldn’t have them coming in here as well, seeing the two toothbrushes side-by-side on the sink, Aaron’s shower gel sitting in the metal holder, his razor and aftershave lined up next to Robert's on the windowsill. He wouldn’t have them judging this, looking down on him. This was too sacred to be tainted by others opinions.

The tile floor was freezing beneath his feet, shocking him fully awake. He pushed the toilet lid down and sat heavily, hands braced on his thighs as he tried to breathe evenly. They were moving about outside, whispering to each other, and Robert forced himself not to focus on it, on what they were doing, what they were saying. They’d be gone soon, taking the last of Aaron with them, and then it would be done.

It’ll be over soon.

They’ll go and you’ll… you’ll…

He felt the sting of tears and rubbed a hand over his eyes. It wasn’t fear now, that had gone the minute defeat had settled into his bones. No, the terror he’d felt a moment ago had been replaced with something much uglier and far more difficult to erase.

He felt ashamed.

It made him retreat into himself, shrinking smaller and smaller, shoulders hunched forwards as he rested his head on his knees. It was like he was back to being a boy, sitting in his bedroom with the door closed, crying into a pillow so no one would hear while his mother’s wake went on downstairs. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to exist.

He just wanted it to stop.

“Did you know?”

The voice was out in the hall, hushed but still loud enough to permeate through the locked bathroom door. The rustle of plastic followed as Vic and Adam emerged from the bedroom, no doubt carrying all of Aaron’s belongings.

“No, of course not,” Vic replied, and Robert couldn’t stop himself listening now. He didn’t have a choice.

“Not about him and Aaron, I mean… did you know he batted for the other side?”

Goosebumps peppered his arms and he shivered, his breath coming in shallow gulps.

“No… I mean he’s had girlfriends-”

“Well Aaron’s definitely not a woman.”

“I know that, Adam.” She sounded… he didn’t know how she sounded. He didn’t want to know.

“He never said anything about it?”

“No.”

There was a pause, the shuffle of footsteps.

“Hey, you all right? I mean, I’m guessing it’s a bit of a shock for you-”

“I’m fine. Let’s just get going.” Shaken, that’s how she sounded. Disbelieving. Robert couldn’t blame her. She was never supposed to know.

He heard them heading back down the hall, their footsteps reverberating around the flat. 

“Maybe he was just… in denial, you know? You hear about that happening, blokes who’re gay but can’t admit it.”

Gay.

His skin prickled with heat and he scraped his hair back with rough fingers, immediately getting to his feet. He had no idea what he was planning on doing, only that that word alone was the catalyst for what was to come.

He unlocked the door, yanking Aaron’s t-shirt down again, and stepped back out into the hallway.

“I’m not gay,” he growled, his voice hoarse, and watched as Adam startled, dropping one of the binbags. Vic looked up at him, felt her eyes focusing on his intently, but he didn’t dare look over at her. He fixed his gaze solely on Adam.

“Oh. Right…” was all Adam could manage but he clearly wasn’t convinced.

“I’m not,” Robert said, as if repeating it would somehow add weight behind his denial. Evidently, Adam didn’t agree.

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

Robert almost wanted to roll his eyes at that, as if an LGBT-friendly sermon from Mr. Straight-As-They-Come was what he needed. “Yeah, thanks, I’m not saying I have a problem with people who are gay, just that I’m not one of them.”

Them. The guilt clawed at him, made him restless.

You can’t distance yourself from this, Robert, he remembered some guy telling him. A one-night stand, that’s all he’d been, but when Robert had sat on the edge of the bed the next morning, telling him in no uncertain terms that he was straight, that this was nothing, the guy had looked at him with soft, pitying eyes and patted his knee. You can’t run from who you are, not forever. It’ll all catch up with you eventually. Better to do it gradually, trust me on that.

Maybe he should have listened.

Or maybe he should just never have come home.

“But you and Aaron-”

“It was nothing,” he cut Vic off immediately, and it tore at him. It physically tore at him, because denying how he felt was one thing, but denying Aaron? It was like he was closing the curtains on the sun, willingly succumbing to the darkness.

Adam’s eyes crinkled at the sides as the crease between his brows deepened. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

Vic sighed and Robert smirked.

“Well, you know how much that hurts coming from you,” he replied, but his smile fell away the second he caught Vic’s gaze. She was looking at him like she no longer recognised him.

Truth was, he doubted if she had ever truly known him at all. Only Aaron had come close… and in the end, he had chosen someone else.

“Let’s just go. We got what we came for,” she said quietly, wearily, and opened the door, picking up the bag Adam had dropped. Robert took a step forward, his mouth open to say something even though the words lodged halfway in his throat.

“Vic, please…”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she snapped, rounding on him with an aggression he had never previously seen. She looked like their mother, her fury tinged with heartbreak. “What you did… You just do what you want, Robert, all the time. You don’t care what it does to other people.”

He shook his head even as he watched her step out of the flat, Adam following right behind. And he knew, he knew that if he let her go now, he’d never get her back. He grabbed his trainers from underneath the radiator in the hallway and pushed his feet into them, not bothering to tie up the laces as he ran after his sister.

“Vic!” he called just as they had reached the front door. Adam put a hand against the small of her back, guided her outside, and glanced back at Robert with a warning glare. He kept going regardless.

“Vic!” he shouted again, his lungs withering as the cold air hit him. Aaron’s t-shirt was doing little to keep out the biting chill and he wrapped his arms around his torso, hurrying up the hill to try and catch up with them.

“You can’t just ignore me,” he tried, knowing full well that she could and he had absolutely no way of stopping her. But he didn’t need to as it turned out because she turned just as she reached the gate to Keeper’s.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, her voice so even that it sent a shiver of fear through him. Had he already lost her?

“Please, I know you’re angry-”

“Angry? God, Robert, I’m well past being angry now!” she yelled, her ponytail swinging erratically behind her as she turned her back on him to walk up the path. He went after her, stopping short when she pushed the binbag at Adam so he could go inside, her gaze locking again on Robert.

“You’ve got no idea what you’ve done, do you? Even now, you still don’t get what you did wrong.”

“I do, Vic-”

“No, you don’t!” she shouted, arms folded across her chest as she stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed. “You think you can say you’re sorry and good, old Vic will just forgive you like always. Well I won’t, Robert, not this time. D’you know, Andy wouldn’t speak to me for days when you came back, said I was an idiot for believing you could change, and it was me who told him that you were really trying to put things right, it was me who stopped him from coming to see you that first day to deck you! I did everything to make sure you had a chance to settle back in, I smoothed things over with Diane, promised her that you were different now… and then… you did that.” Her voice broke at the end, tears shimmering so badly that he was terrified she genuinely might start crying. “I mean, how could you, Robert? How could you do that to Aaron, who trusted you, and how could you do that to me, after everything I risked for you?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, but he was numb now, watching dumbfounded as his little sister tried and failed to regain some control over her emotions.

She shook her head, rubbed at her eyes with a gloved hand. “It’s just words, Robert. They don’t mean anything, not now. I can’t believe a word you say, not when you lie like it’s as easy as breathing.”

Adam appeared at her shoulder then, an arm around her waist, drawing her further into the house.

“Don’t upset yourself, babe. Just close the door on him.”

“Piss off, Adam,” Robert hissed, and saw Vic tense. He’d lost her, had lost her the minute he told a pub-full of villagers Aaron’s secret. He’d never get her back now, but he had to at least try.

“Look, Vic-”

“No, Robert. Just go, okay? I don’t want you waking-” She stopped, her mouth clamping shut, and Adam visibly winced. Robert looked between them, trying to understand what had just happened, but the answer was written on both their faces.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Everything stilled, even the chaotic jumble of thoughts all jostling for attention inside his head. His heartbeat reverberated against his chest, hammering out a two-syllable rhythm.

Aa-ron. Aa-ron. Aa-ron. Aa-ron.

Adam pulled Victoria back a little, stepping in front of her, his shoulders blocking most of the doorway. “He doesn’t want to see you,” he warned, keeping his eyes fixed on Robert.

“Pretty sure he should tell me that himself,” he replied sharply, attempting to take a step forwards only to have Adam’s hand come out and press hard against his chest. He stepped back.

“I’m telling you. And after everything you’ve done to him already, you’ve not got any room to be arguing.”

Unlike your precious whore of a son.

Yes, he knew exactly what he’d done, and there was no way he was going now when Aaron was apparently just a few feet away.

“Look, if I could just speak to him-”

“Take one more step and I’ll knock you into next week. I’m being serious, Robert, you’re not welcome here.” He looked serious, his knuckles white as took a step forwards, shoulders squared. Robert didn’t want to take him on in a fight, but there was a part of him, the reckless part of him, which was almost tempted.

“This is my sister’s house, Barton. You can’t tell me-”

“He can, Robert. I don’t want you here.” Vic came to stand beside Adam, the two of them staring him down now, and her words resonated deeper than they should have, deeper than she would ever know.

I don’t want you here.

“Don’t say that,” he whispered. “Please, Vic, just let me see him-”

“He’s resting. And he doesn’t want to see you,” she cut him off, and Robert was about to come back with another plea when he suddenly focused on the one word which didn’t make any sense.

“Resting?”

Adam and Vic glanced at each other, so quick he might have missed it were he not paying such close attention to their reactions. And he saw in their eyes that something was wrong. Something was wrong with Aaron.

“What’s happened?” he asked, his breath a puff of smoke against the frozen air.

“Nothing. Get lost, Robert,” Adam snapped, but there was worry there now rather than anger. He was panicked.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. What’s happened to Aaron? Why does he need to rest?”

“You don’t get to know that. Vic, come on,” Adam muttered, attempting to pull her back inside the house. She remained rooted in the doorway, still staring at Robert.

“Maybe he should know,” she said quietly, still unmoving.

“Know what?” he asked, finding his voice again as he glanced between them, desperate to read the answer on their faces. “What’s going on?”

Adam leaned in close to Vic, a hand on her shoulder. “Aaron wouldn’t want this,” he said quietly and she turned, hesitant, before placing her own hand over his.

“I don’t think he’d want Robert coming over everyday demanding to see him either,” she answered, and it was said with such ease, with so little feeling attached that Robert felt himself reeling internally. When she turned back to face him, he couldn’t read any emotion on her face, and if he hadn’t been afraid before he certainly was now.

“The night he ran off, Aaron was attacked. He was beaten so badly he could barely walk. I picked him up from the hospital yesterday.”

Attacked.

Beaten.

Hospital.

Her words stuttered in his mind, unable to be processed because every part of him had gone numb. Aaron couldn’t be hurt… he couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible.

“What?” The word came out fragile, trembling on his lips as he tried to swallow some air. He could feel himself shaking badly, heard his teeth chattering against the brittle silence, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore except the knowledge that Aaron was hurt.

“Don’t pretend like you give a damn, Robert,” Adam bit out, teeth bared. “You said he was nothing, remember?”

It twisted in his gut, the guilt sharp as steel, and he forced himself to meet Adam’s eye, determined not to be made to feel like this.

“Of course I give a damn,” he hissed, but it was quiet so as not to attract any attention, and even that made the knife dig in an inch or two deeper.

Adam stepped round Vic again, halting on the top step so he and Robert were eye-level. “And why’s that, then?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with… something that made Robert’s heart beat a little faster.

“Because… he’s a friend,” he said, but he stammered over the word and Adam smirked a little more. Robert suddenly felt very small.

“A friend? Jesus, Robert, I’ve got plenty mates but I don’t go around sleeping with them!”

He’d said it loud enough for others to hear and Robert turned, watching as Leyla came out of David’s and headed up the road while Charity was texting someone as she made her way down from the Woolpack. He felt the fear like acid inside him, burning everything it came into contact with, until all that was left was sheer, unfiltered terror.

He grabbed the front of Adam’s shirt and shoved him up against the house, ignoring Vic’s gasp as he got right into Adam’s face.

“Shut up,” he hissed, his heart close to giving out it was beating so fast. Adam grabbed Robert’s wrists and shoved them down, breaking his grip on Adam’s shirt, and then took a step backwards.

“What, are you scared now?” he said, only it was more of a shout, his words carrying right down the street. And Robert knew it was coming, felt it like a noose around his neck.

“Scared everyone round here is gonna find out you’re actually gay?”

Robert sucked in a breath, the words falling like a lit match into petrol, and the chill that went through him left him shaken to the bone. He didn’t need to look round to know that at least two people would have heard, and that meant that within the hour, the entire village would know. The Dingles would know. His family would know. Andy…

Adam stepped forwards again, bent his head a little, and whispered:

“Not so fun when it’s you who’s being outed to a bunch of strangers, is it? Maybe you’ll think twice next time before blurting out other people’s secrets.” His dark eyes bore into Robert’s, making sure the point was hammered well and truly home, before he ushered a slightly shell-shocked Vic back into the house and slammed the door behind them.

Robert just stood for a moment, listening to the wind screaming through the trees, wishing he could scream as well. He could still feel his pulse thudding heavily but it was dulled now, as if everything had lost its sharpness, its focus. He felt hazy, drunk on the shock of what had just happened, and he stumbled back down the path without fully feeling anything at all.

And then he saw Charity, eyes wide with what he imagined was either glee or malice, and suddenly he was burning. Burning with shame, with fear, with the overwhelming knowledge that he was entirely exposed. She raised an eyebrow at him questioningly and he almost broke out into a sprint as he headed straight for home. He barely registered Leyla and David, both of them stood just outside the shop, and instead focused on getting his keys out of his pocket. It took him three tries to unlock his door and then he was kicking off his shoes, running through to the bedroom which was no longer his and Aaron’s, just his, and grabbing whatever was nearest to hand. Shirts, suit trousers and jackets, his black, leather shoes… everything got shoved into his case. He went through to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush, ignoring Aaron’s still sitting there as if waiting for its owner to return, and picked up his electric razor and shampoo as well.

He couldn’t stay here any longer, not now. Everyone knew, or would know soon. He couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t be a part of this.

His case was zipped and ready in the hallway ten minutes later. He went for a quick shower, mainly to warm up his frozen body, and the water burned through his skin in the most soothing of ways. He dressed in a warm jumper and jeans, slipped his phone into his jacket pocket, and then locked the door behind him. God knows if he’d ever be back here, other than to pack the rest of his things, but he didn’t need to think about that now. He just needed to leave.

Luckily he’d parked the Audi right outside and where the Mill was positioned, most of the driveway couldn’t be seen by those on the main street. He shoved the case into the boot and then slid into the driver’s seat. It smelled of cold leather and the sickening mix of Robert’s aftershave and Aaron’s shower gel. He cracked his window, revved the car into life, and shot out of the driveway at such a speed that the gravel kicked up behind the wheels, hammering against the paintwork. Charity had disappeared thankfully, and there was no one else about to watch him leave. He pressed his foot hard on the accelerator all the same, barely stopping at the junction before taking signs for Hotten, not glancing in the rearview mirror once.

He was going to drive off into the sunset and he wasn’t going to look back.

He wasn’t going to look back.

***

There was something disconcerting about waking up in a hotel room, even when it was where you had intended to be. The sheets were always too starched, too tight across the bed, and everything felt muffled and soft. It was a sort of hemmed-in feeling, knowing that your parameters merely extended to the edge of the bedroom and the small, narrow ensuite with its buzzing, yellow light and its shitty, complimentary toiletries. There was just no room to breathe.

He had stayed in some incredible hotels back in his mid-twenties when he was on the rise and had everything to play for. He’d eventually gotten to know the staff at the ones he frequented most, either because he stayed there so often or because he slipped them a small sum of money to keep quiet when he took a married business client upstairs. But even then the rooms had felt claustrophobic to him, the floor still creaking from years of heavy footsteps. But at least he woke up to rich, steaming coffee and buttered croissants and the morning paper. Unsurprisingly, Premier Inn didn’t offer those kinds of little luxuries.

He’d hung his suits up in the wardrobe to try and remove the worst of the creases but he ended up having to take his shirt into the bathroom while he showered, hoping the steam would miraculously iron out the crumpled collar and sleeves. It didn’t, or not much, but he hoped keeping his suit jacket on would avoid any remarks about his appearance. The light above the mirror was unforgiving, or perhaps he really did look that terrible, and he cut his jaw shaving because his hand was shaking. He had never been nervous for anything in his life, prided himself on being calm both internally and externally, but now it was as though every nerve-ending inside him was a frayed wire, sparking sporadically and jolting through him.

He didn’t eat, didn’t even make himself a weak, watery coffee from the pathetic accoutrements on offer to him in his room. Instead he grabbed a takeaway cup from the café across the street and took a taxi to the office, the only splurge he’d be able to make considering he was paying through the nose for a mediocre room while still paying top-dollar for his flat back home. If he had any sense, he’d email Rakesh and tell him he was moving out, but that wasn’t something he was ready to accept just yet. He needed time, needed to get back into his own head. It still felt like he was floating somewhere in the ether, not quite understanding what had happened.

Campbell & Taylor Investment Services rose up out of the grey pavement like a glass tomb. More accurately, the office was on the fifth floor of a building which looked identical to the three other glass monstrosities lining the street. He remembered working in a start-up advertisement agency in London a few years ago, the CEO of which was younger than Robert but who had a wheelbarrow full of cash courtesy of daddy. The only reason Robert had stuck it out for so long, other than the pay of course, was the building itself – it was located not far from the Strand and it was a Victorian, white-brick terrace. He’d stood outside it most days just staring up at the beautiful, arched windows and told himself this was what ‘making it’ felt like. Then he’d got into one argument too many, throwing his weight around because he thought he knew best (only he really had known best that time) and was out on his ear by lunch. He’d stayed in London for a few more weeks and still walked past the building most mornings just to marvel at it some more. But then his money had run out and the North had called him home again. Or dragged him a little reluctantly if he was being honest.

He decided to take the stairs rather than going up in the lift, having been stuck too long in a confined space for most of the night and not wanting to be imprisoned further in a metal box. He threw his half-empty coffee cup into the bin on the third floor and leaned heavily against the wall, partly to catch his breath and partly because he knew the welcome he’d be getting once he arrived at his destination. The others would barely bat an eyelid at his return, in fact most wouldn’t even register his existence now that he was persona non grata to them. He’d burnt his bridges with almost everyone long ago, refusing to take part in the daily bitchfests around the water cooler like a bunch of spiteful, bitter children. But Ollie… He’d just about managed to retain a slightly dysfunctional friendship with his partner, had even been known to have fun with him on occasion, but he wasn’t sure if that still counted for anything anymore.

The receptionist outside the office wasn’t one Robert recognised; they came and went almost as soon as he seemed to learn their names. If they could actually do their fucking job then I wouldn’t have to fire them so often, Ollie had told him when he’d dared to ask a few months back out of sheer curiosity. As far as Robert could see, most of the receptionists had been adequate enough, even competent at times. He was fairly certain Ollie just got bored of seeing the same faces around the place and wanted to shake things up.

Maybe he’s going to do the same to me, Robert thought, the knot in his stomach clenching terribly. He nodded a hello to the middle-aged man behind the desk and received an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow in response. I hope he fucking fires you too, Robert hissed inside his head before shoving open the door and stepping inside the office.

It was still just as frantic and cluttered as before, the usual suspects either milling around each other’s desks or shouting into their phones. The plastic plants were still peppered around the room to add some kind of faux-life to the place which the staff themselves had yet to achieve on their own, and Ollie’s glass office was still at the back, with the man in question swivelling round in his chair to shout obscenities to someone sat on the opposite side of his desk.

Robert shrugged off his coat and slung it onto the coat stand just next to the door and went over to his own, slightly more modest office nearer to the rabble. The air smelled stale once he closed the door behind him, somehow his potted plant had managed to wilt though he wasn’t sure plastic was supposed to do that, and there was a small Everest of paperwork balanced precariously in front of his monitor, having evidently been dumped there by some disgruntled employee. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find a boot-print stamped onto the top sheet for good measure.

He didn’t bother logging onto his computer, knowing full well that his email notifications would be sickening enough to have him running for the door. Instead, he slumped down into his chair, the leather cold and stiff from lack of use, and rubbed hard at his temples.

“Well fuck me, if it isn’t Jesus Christ himself brought back to life. I can almost hear the angels singing.”

Through the glass window of his office door he could clearly see Ollie standing with his arms outstretched, mouth open in mock-surprise in the middle of the office. Most of the other employees had barely raised their heads at his eruption, no doubt used to Ollie’s sudden outbursts at seemingly nothing, but a few twisted in their chairs to see who, if anyone, he was talking to. Robert sighed, pushed himself up and opened the door.

“Nice to see you, too, Ollie,” he replied, trying for unamused but falling more into exhausted territory.

“Oh no, it’s nice to see you, Robert,” Ollie immediately said, just the wrong side of sharp, and took a step forwards. “Started to forget what that beautiful bone structure actually looked like.”

People were staring now, evidently feeling the heavy weight of tension which had descended like thunder clouds. Robert could hear the rumblings himself right above his head. The downpour would be imminent.

“Well, I’m here now. You can fill me in on everything I’ve missed.”

Ollie smirked, grey-blue eyes focused intently on him, and nodded. “Aye, why don’t you come into my office and we can have a wee chat.” He gestured for Robert to go first, stepping to the side to let him pass, and Robert was almost waiting for someone to trip him up or mutter something as he went by. Instead, the earlier commotion of phone calls and typing started up again and he let his shoulders drop, slipping into Ollie’s office in order to await his sentencing.

“Didn’t want to roll out the red carpet, then?” he asked once the door had shut without a sound, deciding to try for a joke in order to test the mood. Ollie didn’t look at him, just went back round to his side of the desk and grabbed a tumbler from the bottom drawer.

“I thought about it, but then I remembered I was pissed off at you,” came his reply as he poured a generous amount of whisky. Ollie had never believed in the concept of drinking after a certain time of day. What’s the fucking point? he’d questioned not long after they’d first met, the words more than a little slurred while they were both sat on the floor of his office.  Life’s too fucking short not to have a tipple for breakfast.

He was the most enthusiastic pessimist Robert had ever had the misfortune to meet, but strangely it had always been a comfort to him to know that there was at least one person whose view of the world was even darker than Robert’s.

“I know I’ve not been… on the ball-”

“That’s the biggest fucking understatement since those halfwits on Apollo 13 said ‘Houston, we have a problem.’”

Ollie didn’t wait to see Robert’s reaction, instead tipping back a mouthful of the amber liquid and wincing slightly as it went down. For someone who drank as if it was going out fashion, he had never quite managed to actually enjoy it.

“I’m here now,” Robert said, too quietly to really be taken seriously. He sounded weak, broken, all the things he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t be, or not in front of anyone else.

“Yeah, that you are, and looking just as shite as the last time I saw you,” Ollie snapped, draining the last of the whisky before bending to put the glass back in the drawer. “Tell me, do you use a special type of moisturiser to get that 'washed-up-on-a-beach' look, or is this you au naturale?”

That got to him. Maybe it was his vanity or maybe he was just thoroughly sick of all the jibes coming his way, but something about Ollie’s tone had his hackles rising and he squared his shoulders, gearing up for a fight.

“Any more or are you about done?” he bit back, and Ollie quirked an eyebrow, his smile more amused than anything else.

“I could go all day, pal, my stamina is world-renowned.” It was a joke, tripping from his tongue in that easy way of his, almost as if they had changed gears so quickly, so smoothly that Robert hadn’t even felt the shift.

“I’d rather not talk about your shagging capabilities, if it’s all the same to you,” he replied, testing the water with a tentative toe.

Ollie let out a bark of laughter and dropped into his chair. “Aye, fair enough, stuff of nightmares that is,” he said, grinning wide enough to show off his slightly crooked teeth, and gestured for Robert to sit as well. “Right, go on, tell me what’s been happening.”

He felt the gear change this time, felt the crunch of protestation as he was pushed into a conversation he’d really hoped to avoid until he was more… well, ready.

“I thought we came in here so you could get me up to speed.”

Ollie nodded, unperturbed. “Aye and I will, but first I want to know why my right hand man decided to go AWOL on me.”

He immediately thought about Aaron, about finding the text on his phone and then blurting out everything in the pub. He thought about his empty flat, the ghost of their happy, domestic life still clinging to every wall, and of how it was shattered when his little sister learned the truth. He thought about the look on Charity’s face when Adam had outed him on the street. He thought about the freakshow he would be going back to… if he did actually go back. And then this thoughts came full-circle, back to Aaron, who was apparently even more broken than before… and all because of him.

“You know I had problems at home,” he forced out, his mouth dry. “Family stuff.”

“See, that excuse worked when you gave it to me almost a fortnight ago, but it’s not exactly convincing now. What’s been going on?”

“Like I said – family emergency,” he answered, more defensive than before as he tried not to visibly squirm in his seat.

Ollie gave him an unconvinced look, his frown causing deep furrows to appear across his forehead. “Right, this the family you told me you didn’t have any contact with? The same family you’ve barely mentioned in all the time I’ve known you?”

The muscle in Robert’s cheek twitched and he turned his face a little. “I don’t want to go into it.”

“Tough, if it’s affecting your work-”

“It’s not.”

Ollie scoffed, arms folded across his chest. “In almost a year, I think you’ve taken a total of three days off work. I was starting to think you were more machine than man, but then this last month or so, you’ve… I don’t even know, Robert. I’ve barely seen you, and even when you were here it was like your head was on another planet.”

It was. It still is.

In my head I’m back home with Aaron, and being stuck in this office won’t change that.

“I’ve had a lot on my plate, but I’m fine now. Ready to get back to work,” he said instead, even as his voice dipped a little at the end, throat tightening around the words almost as though he couldn’t bring himself to speak them aloud.

“You look ready to drop, not sure about work,” Ollie commented, though there was little heat behind the words. They still felt like an attack to Robert.

“I can do my job, Oliver.”

Ollie’s mouth quirked into a surprised half-smile. “Oh, you’re pulling out the big guns, are you? Only my mother calls me Oliver and it’s usually followed by a smack round the back of my head.”

“Look, I can do this. I know I’ve been shit recently but I can do this. Just… let me prove it to you.”

“All right, Rocky, let’s tone it down, eh? I know how good you are, I wouldn’t have cut you so much slack otherwise. Believe it or not, I’m asking because I’m worried.”

Strangely, Robert would have preferred the earlier, more aggressive version of Ollie to the caring, sharing version he had suddenly morphed into. “Now who’s getting emotional,” he muttered, and heard Ollie snort in response.

“Aye, well, don’t go telling anyone? Only reason I’m even moderately attractive to the fairer sex is because of my bad-boy reputation.”

Robert feigned a laugh, told himself to stay in the moment, not to let his mind slip backwards. Don’t think about him, there’s no point thinking about him now. He’s got Vic and Adam, he’ll have his whole family around him. He doesn’t need you. He never needed you.

“Not because of your world-renowned stamina, then?” he asked, shaking the idea of Aaron being supported by the Dingles from his mind. They should never have gone back to the village. They should have stayed in Leeds, or gone to Manchester or London or anywhere that wasn’t back home. They might have stayed together then…

“Oh, so you’ve still got a sense of humour, then? That’s good to know!” Ollie laughed, the sharpness of it breaking Robert off mid-thought. He focused on the present, forced himself to just keep looking at Ollie, keep smiling.

“Well, it’s hard not to laugh when your boss is a walking punchline,” he remarked, his voice weak but thankfully not noticeable.

“Not bad, Sugden,” Ollie said lightly, leaning back in his chair. “Not quite in my league yet but you’re getting there. Always said you were my protégé.”

“You’re only three years older than me,” Robert reminded him, and slowly started to feel the weight along his back ease off, the tension loosening just a fraction. He could do this, be this.

Ollie gave him a wry smile, clasping his hands together on the desk. “And three years wiser, three years smarter, three years-”

“Closer to dying?” Robert cut in, eliciting a slightly startled laugh from his friend.

“That’s a low blow. You know how sensitive I am about going grey,” he said, touching his salt-and-pepper hair as if worried it might go silver all over at any moment. Robert just rolled his eyes, having forgotten he was definitely not the vainest one in this office.

“I’d be more worried about those wrinkles, mate.”

Ollie glared at him which only furthered his point really, the crow’s feet more deeply defined as he attempted to stare Robert down. “I’ll remind you I’ve got the power to fire you.”

“Well, according to you I’m too good to be fired.”

“Should have added ‘within reason’ to that.”

Robert shook his head. “Too late now, the compliment’s already gone to my head.”

“Everything goes to your head! Surprised it’s not the size of a bloody hot air balloon by now,” Ollie said immediately before his smile slipped a little. He leant forwards in his chair, resting his elbows on the desk, and gave Robert a concerned look. “In all seriousness, I just need to know if whatever issue you were having is done, or if it’s something you’re still… having problems with.”

“No,” Robert replied immediately, even though he was, even though he probably always would be dealing with this. Aaron was gone, he’d destroyed his very last chance with Vic, and he could never go home… There would never be a point where he accepted any of that.

“No, it’s all done now," he finished, and the finality sat heavily in his stomach.

Ollie didn’t look like he believed him, but his shoulders slumped all the same and Robert knew he was going to give up asking.

“Glad to hear it. So, why don’t I get you caught up on Michael Devlin and then I can put you to work, unless you’re planning on disappearing off again?”

Robert winced even though he knew it was meant as a joke, but he hid it well. He always did. “Not anymore,” he answered with a hesitant shake of his head. “I’ve got my priorities sorted now, work comes before everything else.”

It has to, there’s nothing else left to prioritise. Work’s all I’ve got.

“Right, well,” Ollie said, grabbing a folder from behind him and flicking to the first page, “better get comfortable because there’s a Hell of a lot to get through.”

Week 2

He spent the rest of his first week getting back into a semi-functional rhythm, answering calls and replying to emails that had been backed up for weeks. His evenings were spent in the hotel dining-room being served sad, beige dishes with little taste and even less discernible ingredients of the fresh variety. The same staff were on each night it seemed and he managed to get the same girl each time, who smiled at him pleasantly the first night, fair lashes skimming her pale cheeks, but progressively altered her attitude when she saw him eating alone each and every evening. He was fairly certain he became known as the hard-up loner to most of the hotel staff, who exchanged pitiable glances in his direction every time he dared to look up from his food. Eventually, by the fourth night, he resorted to sneaking in takeaway from the local Indian and eating in his room, meaning that his bedroom smelt strongly of cumin and ginger no matter how long he left the windows open for. His nights were even worse, staying up late watching reality TV on the crappy 22-inch screen bolted to the wall and then falling into an uncomfortable sleep which had his back cracking worryingly the next morning.

By his second week, not only was his bank balance looking rather more depressing than before, but he also had to contend with the extra pressure of performing for a boardroom full of potential investors, the most important of which was Michael Devlin, a man whom Robert had been courting fiercely for over five months in order to get his money. That was until he’d gone completely off-grid and Ollie had been forced to step in and take over, something he had concealed completely from the other partners, not that Robert knew that until Ollie confessed it the day after he’d returned to the office.

Like I was going to see you hung, drawn and quartered, he’d explained, not meeting Robert’s stunned gaze.

He’d spent every spare minute he had getting back up to speed on all he’d missed, so much so that he knew his pitch backwards by the time he walked into the meeting on Friday. Michael was cold towards him as he’d expected, just as rude and arrogant as he remembered, and was still sporting a silk pocket square, this time in an ostentatious shade of violet, inside his pinstriped suit jacket.

Robert was going to devour him.

The pleasantries were exchanged quickly and then Robert got down to business, outlining the plan he had fine-tuned to the very last detail, passing out fairly thick binders filled with financial charts, projected costs, future estimates for the next five years. Robert caught Ollie’s eye halfway through and knew he was doing well by the smirk on his face. By the time he was finished, Michael, while not actually smiling, looked pleased at least, which was unusual for someone who was the human equivalent of granite.

“We’ll be in touch,” he said as he shook Robert’s hand, and they both knew the deal was as good as signed already. Robert thanked him for coming in and showed him to the door. When he turned back, Ollie was sitting on the edge of the table, an eyebrow quirked.

“Looks like someone’s back on top form,” he said and Robert shrugged, trying and failing to keep the smile from his face. It had been so long since anything had gone his way and it felt good. He’d forgotten just how much, the rush of power like an electric current through his veins.

“What can I say, I know my audience,” he replied, the two of them heading back towards Ollie’s office where he immediately offered Robert a glass of whisky. He accepted, mainly because the nerves were finally dissipating now and he knew that the only thing waiting for him outside this office was an empty hotel room.

“I knew there was a reason I hired you,” Ollie said by some way of a toast, their glasses clinking as Robert let out a breathy laugh.

“Pretty sure the bottle of tequila helped," he replied, remembering only too well the day he and Ollie had met and the vast quantities of alcohol that had been consumed just before Robert was offered the job.

“I make my best decisions drunk, ever since I was a student.”

Robert gave him a confused look. “Didn’t you drop out in your first year?”

“And it was the best decision I ever made!” Ollie exclaimed before tipping back his glass in one, fluid motion. “Anyway, you’ve obviously got your rhythm back so we’re going to go out and celebrate.”

“I don’t think-”

“You misunderstood me, that wasn’t something that was up for negotiation,” he said, more firmly than before. “We’re going, so get your coat… you’ve pulled.”

Robert laughed properly this time, taking a last gulp of the sweet, burning liquid. “It really is my lucky day, then,” he said, following Ollie from the office and slipping on his grey, wool coat. 

“Aye, and don’t you forget it,” he replied, flashing Robert a wicked smile before they headed for the lift.

The centre of Leeds was teaming, unsurprising for a Friday evening, and they ended up at an old haunt of theirs, a bar they took most of their business clients to. The dark, wooden floors contrasted beautifully against the pale, marble tables, while the the floor-to-ceiling windows almost made it seem like the barrier between inside and out had been removed. It took them a good ten minutes to reach the bar itself, the queue three-deep and every available space already occupied by clusters of well-dressed city types.

It was Robert's kind of place, or used to be at least, but he felt strangely uncomfortable as Ollie guided him to a marginally quieter area. A cream, paper lantern hung low above their heads, lighting their glasses and making them sparkle.

His eyes scanned the room, catching every so often on an interesting or attractive face, before he brought the drink Ollie had got him to his lips. He only managed a sip before he almost spat it back out again, coughing as it went down.

“Jesus Christ, what the Hell is this?”

Ollie grinned. “No idea, just asked the bartender to give me whatever was strongest.”

“Think I’d get drunk off the fumes alone.”

“Well I hope you’re not planning on bloody inhaling the thing all night. Go on, down the hatch and then I’ll get us both another.”

Robert glanced at him sceptically before doing as had been asked of him, every mouthful what he imagined battery acid probably tasted like. “I’m really starting to worry that you’re trying to get me drunk,” he said, his eyes almost smarting as the inside of his throat slowly started to erode.

“You’re only getting that now?” Ollie muttered into his own drink which Robert had realised he was consuming at a far slower rate.

“And then what? You try it on with me?”

Ollie glanced up, momentarily surprised, and then relaxed into an easy smile. “You’re a beautiful man, Robert, and I’m done trying to resist you!”

“You’re an idiot,” he sighed, shoving at his arm a little which only made Ollie smile wider.

“Aye and you’ve been a miserable bastard for weeks so excuse me for trying to cheer you up.”

Robert gripped his glass tighter, his gaze falling to his blanched knuckles. “That what this is, is it? An intervention?”

“For someone so smart, you’ve got shit for brains sometimes.”

“I don’t need cheering up,” he replied matter-of-factly but he knew his face said different.

Ollie rested his elbow on the edge of the bar, cocking his head to one side and peering at Robert knowingly. “Well if you’re trying to say that this is you happy then I’d fucking hate to see you on a bad day.” Despite the harshness of the words, his tone was unnervingly soft and Robert had to duck his head to avoid Ollie’s gaze.

“You won’t get it out of me, no matter how drunk I get.”

“I’ve seen you drunk, remember? You’re like a sinner in a confessional after you’ve got a few inside you, start spilling the beans about everything.”

He looked up, finally, and tried his best to keep his voice even. “Not about this.”

“That bad, eh?” There was the flicker of a smile there but it only served to make Robert’s jaw lock.

“Leave it.”

Ollie sighed. “All right, all right. Let me get us another, eh?”

Robert watched him slip in between the crowds and push his way to the front of the bar, earning him a few glares from those around him. Unsurprisingly, Ollie didn’t even register it, instead ordering two drinks before turning to his right where a woman in a navy, silk dress was just accepting a glass of wine from the barman. Robert watched him flirt with her shamelessly, laughing too loudly, and he almost rolled his eyes. That was until Ollie turned and pointed directly at him, the woman’s dark gaze following Ollie’s hand before locking on Robert.

He swallowed, wondering what the Hell his friend had said, and felt his feet start to move just as Ollie gestured for him to come over.

“This is Laura,” he said enthusiastically just as Robert managed to squeeze into the tight space at the bar. “Laura, this is Robert.”

“Hi,” she said, her smile warm but her eyes analytical, as if she were peeling back his layers with just a look.

“Hi,” he replied, giving Ollie a questioning glare which he seemed oblivious to.

“I’ve got to quickly take a call; I’ll be back in a minute,” he said instead, more in Laura’s direction, before turning back to Robert with a sly grin. “Be good,” he whispered and then was gone, disappearing into the crowds before slipping back out onto the street. Robert watched him go, imagining the myriad of ways he could murder his friend without anyone realising. Eventually he turned back towards the woman who was still staring at him intently.

“Sorry about him,” he said quietly, knowing from experience that it was wise to apologise for Ollie’s behaviour as a general rule.

The corner of her mouth lifted upwards. “It’s fine, I know what friends can be like.” Her voice was deeper than he’d expected and her eyes were the colour of treacle.

“Really starting to question the whole ‘friends’ thing with him, actually,” he muttered, taking the drink Ollie had left for him on the bar and swallowing a mouthful. It was only marginally better than the one he’d been given before.

“Well, he’s definitely… abrupt,” Laura commented after he’d turned back to her.

“I think that might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him,” he answered, giving her a winning smile which came to him as easy as breathing. It felt like slipping into an old coat, well-worn and utterly familiar, a barrier between himself and the world.

“And what about you? If he’s bad cop does that make you good cop?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Robert said immediately which got him a laugh.

“A man of mystery, then.”

“Not sure I’d go that far.”

Her eyes appraised him once again, flicking down the length of his body before focusing back on his face. “And shy as well. I’m almost grateful to your friend for introducing us.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. “That what you’re looking for in a man, is it? Mystery and shyness?”

“It helps if they’ve got a decent face as well,” she replied, and if he’d been in any doubt before, he certainly wasn’t now. She was flirting with him.

“So I’ve got two out of three?” he joked, taking another sip of his drink just for something to do.

Laura rolled her eyes but she was still smiling. “Now you’re just fishing for a compliment.”

“Can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, I suppose I can’t,” she said, her voice considerate, before she turned to look back over her shoulder. When she faced him again, her eyes were determined. “I’m going to get some air, feel free to join me.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, just sidled through the crowds, the silk of her dress rippling like water down her back. He followed, knowing exactly what would happen once they got outside. He thought of his empty hotel room, of his emptier flat back in Emmerdale, of Victoria and Andy and Aaron…

Aaron.

He needed to move on. He’d be happier once he moved on.

They went out into the small patio area through the glass, sliding doors just to the right of the bar. It was lit with fairy lights wrapped around a few potted trees, and Laura sat on the edge of one of the marble tables, pulling a cigarette from her purse and lighting it quickly. She took a drag, the smoke unfurling from her burgundy lips, and then shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, coming to lean against the table on the opposite side, facing her. She caught his eye and grinned, the cigarette stained with lipstick.

“Planning on offering me your jacket?”

He shrugged, easing himself gently into the man he once was, the man he could still be. “What can I say, I’m chivalrous.”

She gave him another smile, maybe a little forced this time, and shook her head. “That’s very sweet but I’m fine.”

It was only marginally quieter outside, the glass walls meaning that most of the noise inside the bar filtered out into the night air. Robert watched her take another drag on her cigarette, let his eyes slide from the sharp protrusion of her collarbones to the soft curves of her hips. She was beautiful and she liked him. He could like her back if he tried, if he put the effort in.

“So… do you work round here, then?” The words were rusty, halting, and she caught the awkwardness of his tone immediately.

“Do you actually want to know?” she asked seriously and his brows knitted together.

“Not if you don’t want to tell me.”

She shook her head, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of her stiletto before coming to stand before him. “I mean, is it necessary for us to get to know each other when we both know where this is heading?”

He stood as well, felt the sizzle of electricity running between the, the anticipation sparking in his veins. “Do we?” he asked, and he was being coy now, inching closer, pushing himself because he knew he wouldn’t go willingly. He’d regret this, could already feel it light a stone inside his stomach, but it was the only way. He needed to drive Aaron out of his head.

Laura ran a finger down the slope of his jaw, her dark eyes almost black as she tipped up her chin. “You really are very sweet,” she whispered against his lips, her breath smelling of ash and tobacco, and it only took the smallest of shifts for his mouth to find hers. She was warm, her hand light at the side of his neck, and she let out a sigh as he put a tentative hand against her waist. Had this been a few months ago, he’d have pulled her close against him, tangled his fingers in her dark, silky hair. But now… now all he wanted was the scrape of stubble against his cheek and calloused fingers digging into the small of his back. Something in him snapped back to reality and he found himself retreating, pulling back even as she traced his lower lip with her tongue.

“Sorry… Sorry, I can’t-” He stopped, stepping back so the backs of his thighs were pressed against the cold marble of the table. She gave him a vaguely unimpressed look but didn’t seem upset in any way.

“As arrogant as this is no doubt going to sound, I’m assuming it’s not me?” she asked after a few moments, already picking up her purse which she had placed behind her on the table.

He shook his head sadly, not quite able to meet her eye. The kiss clung uncomfortably to his lips, and guilt clawed at him though he knew he had no reason to feel it. “No, it’s not you.”

“Good,” she said, taking out a compact and lipstick to clean the slightly smudged edges of her makeup. “Are you married?” she asked once she’d finished, glancing down at his left hand.

“No.”

“But there’s someone else?”

Not anymore.

“Yes.” It was a lie, he told himself it was a lie, but it felt honest. It felt more truthful than anything he’d said in days.

She smiled at him, warm again, and it touched her eyes this time. She took a step forwards, placed a hand against his cheek. “Then I suppose they should count themselves lucky.” She let him go, moved back towards the glass door but looked over her shoulder just before she went back inside.

“It was nice meeting you, Robert.”

“Yeah… and you.”

He watched her go in and then hastily rubbed at his mouth, wiping off her lipstick and the feel of her mouth against his. He should never have done it. Now everything else was tainted, all his memories of Aaron’s lips faded, less clear to him. He felt the ache inside him like a gravitational pull, tugging at the desperate, lonely part of him that wanted so badly it hurt.

There was nothing to be done but push it down, push it down so far that he couldn’t feel it. He sniffed hard, the cold air making his eyes water, and then he went back into the suffocating warmth and dazzling lights. He saw Ollie immediately, towering above everyone else as he scanned the room, evidently looking for Robert. When he caught sight of him, he raised his eyebrows in a: well? Robert turned his back on him, heading straight for the door.

The streets were busy, cars rushing passed him as he headed in the direction of his hotel which luckily wasn’t too far. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, blew out a breath and tried to get himself to calm down, but the guilt continued to rattle inside him.

“Oi! Slow down!”

Robert threw a glare over his shoulder. “Piss off, Ollie.”

It only took him a few seconds to catch up, his footsteps falling in time with Robert’s. “Jesus, did she knock you back? I did wonder if she was a bit out of your league.”

“I said, fuck off,” Robert bit out, too shaken to keep himself in check. He picked up his pace, almost jogging as he made his way along the pavement.

“You said piss off, actually, but let’s not split hairs,” he heard Ollie mutter behind him before he sighed and ran after him. “D’you think you could slow it down a bit, Usain? I’m getting a stitch here.”

They’d reached the corner and Robert spun to face him, the anger rising so fast that he felt he was drowning in it. “What the Hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his voice echoing against the night sky. He knew that a few people had stopped to look at him but he didn’t care. He was too far gone.

Ollie’s pale eyes hardened, colder than they had been before. “God knows, Robert. Maybe that you might crack a smile if you got laid.”

It stung, knowing that his loneliness was apparently evident to others. He should have hid it better. “I don’t need pity.”

“Well too bad because you’ve got it!” Ollie yelled, and it seemed to startle them both, Robert taking a step back while Ollie sighed heavily. “Look, I know something is wrong, I know it’s more than just family stuff, and I know you’re not over it. So until you tell me, I’m not backing off.”

Robert shook his head, refused to look up. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Except it is because you’re my friend, for better or worse, and it doesn’t seem like you’ve got too many people looking out for you so-”

“What, so you’re stepping up because you know I’m a sad fucker with no one to turn to?” Robert snarled, his fist itching to knock him to the ground.

“I wasn’t going to be quite that brutal but yeah, as it goes.”

“Well thanks, Ollie, always knew I could count on you.”

Ollie winced, rubbing at his temple as though he were getting a headache. Robert knew how he felt. “I’m a shitebag,” he said evenly, “I’ll be the first to admit it, but I’m also the only one here asking if you’re all right.” He paused, looking Robert up and down. “So are you? All right, I mean?”

He didn’t know what to say. No one had asked him that before, or if they had it was said in that usual way where they expected a simple: “I’m fine.” But Ollie was looking at him like he genuinely wanted to know. Robert didn’t know what to do with that, so in the end he decided to be honest.

“No.” It came out strained, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe. A couple came up behind him and he moved to his right to let them passed, keeping further into the shadows now so his face wouldn't be seen as clearly. He'd already been exposed enough recently.

“What is it, then? What happened?” Ollie asked quietly once they were alone again. He felt the words bubbling to the surface, the ones he had pushed down and pushed down. He couldn't quite manage it this time.

“I fucked up my entire life, that’s what happened,” Robert said, his voice breaking horribly though he tried to fight it. “My family hates me, I can’t go home, and I… I’ve fucked up everything.”

“Robert-”

He ducked his head again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It doesn’t matter, Ollie,” he said, his voice steadying thankfully. “Look, I just want to head home, get an early night.”

“Mate, come on, why don’t we go somewhere…”

“No. No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He started walking backwards, needing to be on his own without the concerned, pitying gaze of his friend. Ollie nodded reluctantly.

“All right. Yeah, tomorrow, then. Night Robert.”

“Night, Ollie.”

He started walking, suddenly numb, and headed east. Everything blurred around him, the city lights and the cars and the people all melting together as he wandered along the streets until he eventually reached the hotel, it’s automatic doors sliding open welcomingly as he entered. The receptionist nodded a greeting to him but he couldn’t muster the energy to return it, instead fishing for his keycard and heading upstairs to his room. His breath came in gulps and he unbuttoned his shirt at the collar as he stumbled along the hallway and into his room.

He let his head rest back against the door once it had clicked shut, his coat slipping from his shoulders. He followed a second later, sinking onto the carpet as the first, warm drip of tears hit his cheek. He closed his eyes, let himself cry silently, knowing there was no one here to see him.

Alone at last.

***

He didn’t sleep, or barely, and when he woke his hangover was painful enough to push out all thoughts of Aaron and Vic from his mind. He showered and dressed slowly, carefully, any sudden movements making him want to wretch into the sink. Breakfast was entirely beyond him, as was coffee, and so he decided to go into the office early just for something to do. He was surprised to find Ollie, annoyingly fresh-faced, already there, sitting at his desk and watching the door almost as though he’d been expecting Robert.

“Come into my office,” he said once Robert had hung up his coat and Robert had followed him reluctantly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once the door had clicked shut and a modicum of privacy had been restored.

“I want you to take some time off,” Ollie said, coming back round to his side of the desk. Robert shook his head immediately.

“No, I don’t want to.”

“I don't care,” Ollie replied. “You’re going to take as much time as you need to get yourself sorted, and meanwhile Daniel will cover your workload.”

Robert almost threw something across the room, preferably at Ollie’s head. “Daniel? He knows fuck-all about anything! Couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag!” he yelled, and didn’t even care if Daniel had decided to come in early as well and could hear every word. He deserved to hear what a useless, brainless twat he was more often, frankly.

“This is happening, Robert, whether you like it or not. And try to be fucking grateful for once in your life, I’m over here doing my best to be a nice, sensitive person so show some fucking appreciation, please.”

Robert wanted to argue with him, he wanted to shout until his voice was hoarse, but he could see Ollie wasn’t going to budge. He’d lost and he was too tired to keep fighting.

“Thank you.”

Ollie smiled, triumphant. “There we go, now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Piss off,” Robert muttered, but he was smiling as well, couldn’t help but feel relieved knowing it was one less thing to worry about. He thought he could manage it, just keep going, keep working, and eventually he’d forget about everything else. But there was no way to out-run what had happened, it just kept catching up with him.

“And he’s gone again. Suppose I should be happy I got to see the polite version of Robert Sugden at all.”

“Savour it, Ollie, I doubt you’ll see him again.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a good job I don’t need him. I just need the Robert Sugden who’s willing to go after what he wants and takes no prisoners. Squeeze a few balls in that ball-squeezing vice of his.”

Robert snorted a laugh. “That was beautiful.”

“I know, fucking Shakespeare couldn’t do better than that!” Ollie exclaimed, laughing himself. Robert let his smile slip a little, fiddled with the strap of his watch just to stop from looking up.

“You’ll be seeing me soon, Ollie,” he said quietly, seriously. He needed him to believe it.

“I fucking hope so,” Ollie came back, smirking, “because Daniel really does know fuck-all about anything and you might end up seeing me next behind bars because I’ll have garrotted the bastard.”

“Well I suppose that’s motivation, at least. Can’t have one of my friends going down for murder… not when I wasn’t there to help him hide the body.”

“See, now that’s the kind of loyalty I’m looking for in a friend!” Ollie said before clapping his hands together. “Right, fuck off now because you’re making the place look untidy.”

It shouldn’t have been comforting, but this version of Ollie would always be Robert’s favourite, the one who cared but in a backwards kind of way. It was easier to handle than when he was asking concerned questions about his personal life.

“You’ll miss me.”

“Are you kidding?” Ollie scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Without your chiselled face around here I go back to being a solid seven rather than a pitiful four and a half!”

“Always knew you fancied me deep down,” Robert replied, giving him a wink which Ollie grinned at.

“Aye, it’s been fucking torture keeping my hands off you!” he exclaimed. “Go on, get yourself sorted out, take up the guitar and play some fucking kumbaya or whatever it is people do to to find themselves. Just make sure you’re back to being the arrogant prick we all love to hate by the time you return.”

Robert nodded, opening the office door. “Will do,” was all he said, knowing there was no point in goodbyes when he was going to see Ollie soon. Very soon, he hoped.

He gave him a quick wave just as he was heading out the door, pulling his coat on as he did so, and Ollie stuck his middle finger up in response before focusing on his laptop again. Robert smiled, the weight on his shoulders lifted a little, and slipped back outside, knowing he’d be going back to the hotel to pack.

Week 3

He got home on Saturday under the cover of darkness, hoping to avoid anyone spotting him as he parked his Audi in the gravel driveway outside Mill Cottage. His flat was just as he’d left it, though somehow more hollow than he remembered, as if its soul had been scraped out while he’d been gone. It was a shell, just walls and floors and furniture, but nothing with any life or meaning. That first night, he’d stayed through in the living-room, wrapped up in a blanket like he had been when Vic and Adam came round.

He spent the first few days just wandering from room to room, spreading out his clothes in the wardrobe to hide the fact that Aaron’s clothes had been removed, rearranging his belongings so that they filled some of Aaron’s drawers. But eventually it became necessary to go outside, his cupboards and fridge utterly bare by Thursday.

When he stepped outside, early in the morning so as to avoid bumping into anyone, the roads had frozen over, just a glistening stretch of crystal. It took him several tries just to get across the gravel, and he stuck to the grass verge on his way up to David’s.

Carly was stacking shelves when he went in and she seemed stunned when he nodded a greeting at her but didn’t say anything. He grabbed a basket and focused on picking the bare essentials, desperate to be back in the safety of four walls.

“All right?” she said to him when he came to the counter a few minutes later and he put his basket on the counter instead of answering. No doubt she wanted to know all the gossip about his gay love affair, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her. She could find out all the gory details from Adam… or from Aaron himself.

She gave him back his groceries, packed into one of those thick, hemp bags that he vaguely remembered Leyla banging on about because she wanted the shop to be eco-friendly, and he headed straight for the door, not bothering to offer a goodbye. He figured he might as well play up to his role as a cold-hearted bastard considering it was what everyone was already saying about him.

He was so busy shoving his change into the pocket of his jeans that he didn’t hear the sound of a wrench thudding onto the gravel or the sound of footsteps hammering across the icy street. The first thing he heard was a shout from closer than he had anticipated.

“Oi!”

Cain’s face was set in anger, teeth grinding together as he marched over to where Robert was standing, and he only had time to drop the bag before Cain’s fist swung back and then came full force against the side of his face. He stumbled back, the ice not helping, and only just managed to stay standing when a hand grabbed at the front of his jumper.

“You come near him again and I’ll take a pair of bolt-cutters to your fingers. Understood?” he growled, his breath sour in Robert’s face.

He squirmed, his right eye smarting badly and already bruising, and desperately tried to get out of Cain’s grip before he eventually realised there was no point. “Trust me, I couldn’t get near him even if I wanted to.”

“Good,” Cain answered, dropping Robert again, “because you’ve done enough damage as it is.”

“How… how is he?” Robert asked, almost afraid of the answer. Cain looked him up and down, lip curling in disgust and turned his back on him.

“Like I’d tell you,” he muttered before stalking off back to the garage. Robert waited a second or two just in case Cain had only gone back to retrieve those bolt-cutters, but once he was satisfied that he was actually safe, he picked up his bag of shopping.

“Not a wise move.” It was Charity, her voice carrying on the wind as she clipped along the side of the road in her three-inch heels, arms wrapped tightly around herself to keep warm.

“What?” Robert snapped, pressing a cold hand to his eye and hissing in pain.

“Getting on the wrong side of the Incredible Hulk,” Charity explained, glancing momentarily at the garage before her gaze rested back on Robert.

“Well, thanks for the advice but-”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for liking both, have to admit. Thought you were strictly a ladies’ man.”

His heart leapt into his throat, throbbing sickeningly. So she had heard then, and if she knew then so did everyone else. He was surprised Cain hadn’t had a pop at him for that as well, he looked the homophobic type.

“I don’t need this right now,” he growled, attempting to head back in the direction of home. Charity laughed.

“Oh, come on, just a bit of harmless joking. No need to go getting your knickers in a twist over it.”

He stopped, turned, and squared his shoulders. “I’m guessing the whole village is talking about it?”

She shrugged, unfazed. “Course they are, you’re front page news right now. You and Aaron, although Chas has pretty much banned anyone from the pub who so much as says his name.”

“Doubt anyone’ll be doing the same for me,” he said quietly.

“No, well, you’d have to friends for that so…”

“Yeah, thanks. Anyway, it’s been lovely chatting to you, Charity,” he bit back, sarcasm dripping from every word, “but I really have to be going.”

The road was slick under his boots but he managed to get almost completely down the hill before he heard her speak again.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

He sighed, wondering if he was ever going to get any peace in this sodding village or if the Dingles were forever going to be a curse upon him. “Thanks, I’ve already been told that plenty of times.”

“Not listened though, have you? Too caught up in your big sexuality crisis to actually see the bigger picture.”

He bristled at the word ‘sexuality’, couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah? And what’s that, then?” he asked coldly.

“You know, I’m starting to wonder how you ever made any money when you don’t even seem to have some basic common sense. Aaron, obviously. The bigger picture is Aaron.”

For a second, an image of Aaron flashed in front of his eyes, of him sleeping in their bed with his face soft and pale, his skin warm against Robert’s. It was like a hard slap to the face and he reeled from it immediately, locking it away along with everything else.

“No, the bigger picture is me getting through the day without being punched in the face.”

Charity rolled her eyes. “Achievable goals, Robert. You should start aiming lower. And Aaron is the bigger picture because when all’s said and done, no one cares who you’re sleeping with, or if they do then they’ll get over it or forget about it. And then what? What are you going to do once everyone moves on, stops talking about you?”

He didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine a point where he wouldn’t be judged for this, where he wouldn’t have to contend with people whispering behind his back or staring at him as he walked by.

“I go back to normal,” he answered, but it was said shakily and didn’t sound convincing to his ear.

“And what’s normal?” she continued on, her words like a finger jabbing at his ribs. “Sitting at home on your own, no friends or family to speak of, running away from Cain? Doesn’t sound normal to me.”

He shot her a glare which evidently didn’t seem to trouble her. “Pretty sure that is normal for you, actually,” he snapped, and again she barely blinked in response. He could only dream of being that unruffled by others opinions.

“Maybe once, but then I decided to put things right. And yeah, I screwed it up plenty times while I was trying, but I’ve got them back now.” She took a step forwards, pulling the lapels of her coat tighter around her. “If you love Aaron, actually love him, then show him that. Sitting around moping won’t do you any good, and especially if this freak out is just because you’re bi. So what, you like both? Join the club, Robert.”

She gave him one last deeply unimpressed look and then she was gone, disappearing into David’s as though going for a pint of milk and dishing out relationship advice went hand-in-hand for her. Maybe it did, God knows Charity was an enigma all to herself.

Robert shook off her words and kept going, his fingers tightening around the bag of groceries as he fumbled with his keys.

Wouldn’t have pegged you for liking both…

Big sexuality crisis…

Because you’re bi…

He refused to hear it, refused to be labelled. She didn’t know him, didn’t know how he felt or what his life was like. She didn’t know anything. And what if he was… like that? She had no right to tell him what to do or when to get over it. She had no right.

The bigger picture is Aaron.

He dropped his bag onto the hallway floor, the front door slamming shut behind him.

Maybe Aaron was the bigger picture, maybe – and God help him – Charity was right, but it didn’t make any difference. Aaron didn’t want to see him, he was never going to forgive him, and unless Robert miraculously found a way to change that, his normality really was going to be living on his own, no friends or family, and likely avoiding Cain for as long as he stayed in the village…

Week 4

He didn’t go back to David’s, instead venturing into Hotten inside the safety of his car so as to avoid anymore Dingle run-ins. He checked in with Ollie at the weekend, decided he could manage working from home for a bit, more because he was bored out of his mind than because he was genuinely keen to get back to work.

Eventually though the cabin fever started to set in and he had no option but to get some fresh air. Luckily Cain was busy with a customer when he walked past and didn’t even look up as Robert headed towards the café. He told himself it was fine, that no matter what happened or what was said, he would let it go. But as soon as he walked in it was like a crack of thunder had rolled out, and the deafening silence that followed spoke volumes.

“Blimey, that’s some shiner you’ve got there,” Bob exclaimed, a tea-towel over his shoulder which Robert imagined was the only signature look he had.

“Americano,” he batted back, slamming a few coins down onto the counter to show he wasn’t in any mood to talk.

“Oh… yeah, coming right up.”

Robert watched him hastily start making his coffee and almost smiled, glad he could at least scare on person in the village. But his smirk faltered when he sensed someone staring and he turned, expecting a Dingle, only to find it was Brenda peering at him from behind the cake stand.

“What?” he snapped.

“So are you and Aaron boyfriends, then?”

She’d said it loud enough for others to hear and he knew, without turning, that everyone had stopped what they were doing to hear his reply.

“What are you talking about?” he hissed, hoping it counted as a denial even if he hadn’t actually said ‘no’.

“I can’t imagine him wanting anything to do with you after that little stunt in the pub,” she continued, just as blasé as before. He wanted to take a cupcake and shove it in her mouth, give it a better purpose than just gossiping about things she didn’t understand.

“And this is your business because…?”

Her eyes went wide and she stammered a little before saying, slightly affronted: “Well there’s no need to be rude, I was only asking.” She gave him a glare before she disappeared back into the kitchen and he was grateful at least to have at least one less village idiot surrounding him, even if all the others were now buzzing behind him, whispering rapidly to each other.

Ignore it. Just get your coffee and go.

But the longer he waited, the more his ears started to tune in on what was being said, and eventually he couldn’t stand it, not wanting to know anything they were saying about him.

“Tell you what, just keep the Americano,” he snarled, not bothering to pick up his money, instead shouldering passed a lolloping Sam Dingle – because apparently Robert could not avoid running into at least one of them on a daily basis – and made his way back outside.

He didn’t know where he was going, only that home wasn’t an option yet when he’d only had about five seconds of fresh air. He just kept marching down the street, ignoring Keeper’s Cottage on his left. Nicola was just coming out of David’s and her wide grin put his teeth on edge immediately.

“So is it just Aaron or have you swapped teams completely, then?” she called, dropping her purse back into her handbag.

“What about you, Nicola? Got a thing for apes in general or is it just Jimmy?” he retorted, though her verbal swipe had left much deeper wounds on him than his had on her.

“Don’t be like that, Robert!” she shouted as he kept walking, her laughter piercing his skin. “Thought we had something special once upon a time.”

He ignored her, just kept going and going. He headed up towards the pavilion and then hopped the fence, picking up the pace as he climbed the steep, stubbled slope of the field. His boots slid against the mud but he didn’t care. He relished the burning sensation in his lungs, the muscles in his legs protesting as he saw the honey-gold fields stretched out in front of him.

He’d walk. He’d just walk and walk and eventually he’d feel better. Eventually he had to feel better.

The air was crisp and clean and he breathed it, one lungful at a time, scrubbing a hand across his face every now and again as if he was trying to wake himself from a dream. Or a nightmare. The whispers plagued him though, no matter how far from the village he got, their stares and laughs somehow having dug their way under his skin. They’d never let him be, never let him forget. He would always be this, long before he was anything else.

Robert Sugden – Gay.

He’d never escape it.

The field dipped down sharply, the mud a foot deep or more, and he decided to head back onto the track, climbing over the wire fence and almost getting his jeans caught as he did so. He wiped his hands on his thighs and stayed in at the side when he heard the rumble of an engine approaching, praying it was someone he didn’t know.

When he turned, the silver Land Rover was just rolling to a stop beside him, the window already rolled down.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” Andy said evenly, his arm resting on the window frame, his breath clouds of air curling from his mouth.

Robert took as many steps back as he could before his back hit off the wooden post. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he replied, the challenge clear in his tone. He didn’t want a fight, not when he still felt so bruised from earlier, but he wasn’t going to back down in front of his brother.

“Just thought the Dingles would have run you out by now.”

“Well, I’m still standing.”

Andy nodded but he was frowning. “How’d you get the black eye?”

“Take a wild guess.”

There was only the shortest of pauses before he answered. “Cain.”

“So there is a brain in there somewhere,” Robert muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat, his fingers all but numb already.

Andy raised an eyebrow, almost looking surprised. “Not sure you should be having a dig at me right now.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve got a lot of people on your side.”

It hurt even though it shouldn’t have. He didn’t need anyone else reminding him that he was alone, he was more than aware of it already.

“You say that like it’s a new thing.”

Andy sighed. “You made this mess, Robert, no point feeling sorry for yourself just cause no one wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, I can always rely on you for words of wisdom,” he said, hoping Andy wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t recognise sarcasm when it smacked him across the face.

“Look, all I’m saying is-”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you’re saying.”

Andy unclipped his seat belt and leaned further out the window. “No point having a go at me, I’m not the one who decided to tell half the village about Aaron’s past.”

“Come off it. We both know no one cares about that, they’re more interested in-” Robert stopped, the words frozen on his tongue. He’d almost said it. He’d almost said…

“In?” Andy coaxed and Robert shook his head sharply.

“Why are you still here?”

“Maybe I wanted to see how you were doing. Should have known not to bother.”

Robert scoffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “That what this is? You being the caring, sharing older brother?” he questioned. “Give me a break.”

“I figured you’d want someone to talk to. My mistake, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously. I don’t need anyone, Andy, but even if I did, you’d be the very last person I went to for help,” he spat, wanting to hurt him as much as possible even if he knew, somewhere deep down, that this time he didn’t deserve it. “I mean it’s not like you’ve got the best track record yourself when it comes to relationships.”

“That what you and Aaron had, then? A relationship?”

His thoughts stuttered, the shock a paralytic to his bones. He just stood, staring, in abject horror as he realised what he’d said, what he’d practically admitted.

“What? No,” he breathed, but the denial was weak and he knew Andy had heard it too.

“Everyone’s saying you two had a thing,” he said, dark eyes knowing, like Robert didn’t even need to reply. He did anyway.

“And?”

“Well, this village gossips like no other so it’s never good to rely on just what they’re saying… Thought I should ask myself.”

The very idea sickened him. “What, brother to brother? Man to man?”

Andy shrugged, leaning back into the car to turn the heating up a bit. “If you like.”

He sounded so… nonchalant about it all, like he wasn’t bothered, but Robert knew different. Andy was just like their dad, always had been, and they’d be no different about this either. Robert wasn’t going to be fooled, not again.

“We didn’t have a thing so there’s nothing to be said.”

“So Vic’s lying an’ all, is she?”

Fuck.

“What did she say?”

“That you and Aaron were… I don’t know… together,” Andy answered, and his expression was one of awkward confusion and possible disgust. Robert felt his chest tighten with rage.

“What the fuck does ‘together’ mean?”

Andy rolled his eyes again. “Oh, come on, Robert, you really need me to spell it out?”

“Well you definitely don’t want to going by that face you just pulled,” he snapped, his hands practically shaking now with anger. He wanted to hit something so badly. “What, too scared to actually say the word, Andy? Suppose we should add homophobic to arsonist and wife-beater.”

He’d hit the mark, felt the smooth, whistling arc of the arrow as it sailed through the air and embedded itself right in the heart of the bulls-eye.

 “I’m not gonna listen to this. I was only trying to help,” he hissed, starting to roll the window up.

“No, you were looking down your nose like always!” Robert shouted and Andy paused for a second. “And for the record, I’m not gay so feel free to set the record straight with all the old biddies spreading lies about me!”

“I won’t be telling them anything. Not about you, at any rate.”

Robert laughed a little manically, the threads snapping inside him. He couldn’t hold himself together much longer, but he wasn’t quite done yet. He needed more.

“Ashamed of me, eh?” he asked, and waited. Waited for Andy to say it, just like their dad had. Say it. Go on, say it.

Andy rolled the window back down, rammed the car into first gear, and stared Robert straight in the eye.

“Of you? Yeah, I’d say so. Pretty sure we all are by now.”

The wheels kicked up a few stones as Andy hammered on the accelerator, the Land Rover roaring to life as he shot off along the track. And Robert just stared after him, waiting for the pain to hit.

But it didn’t. There was no pain, no upset, no sadness. Instead all he felt was cold, numbing acceptance.

Somehow that was much worse.

Chapter Text

He had the house to himself, a welcome luxury if he was being honest, though the thought left him feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful to Vic and Adam. Still, it was nice to be able to potter round the kitchen, make himself a cup of tea without one or both of them watching from the doorway, eyes trailing over his slightly hunched shoulders and pinched face when he twisted too suddenly. It was nice being able to stay in bed until noon as well, or lounge about on the sofa without Vic asking if he’d been out into the garden today for ‘a bit of fresh air’ or Adam, who was about as subtle as a brick, asking if he wanted to come up to the farm with him. It was reminiscent of his time with Robert, before he’d been reunited with his family, when similar nagging had taken place for him to step foot outside the front door. He didn’t dwell too long on those memories for obvious reasons, but they still bled through when he wasn’t paying attention, jolting him from the bliss of momentary amnesia, reminding him that Robert was never too far from his thoughts.

He was never too far in reality either, not once Aaron had bravely switched on his phone after a whole month of ignoring it. The minute it flickered into life, the incessant buzzing began, a series of texts and missed calls coming through one after the other. He watched it vibrate on the coffee table in the living-room, his leg jigging up and down as the screen kept lighting up with a new message. They were all from that night, unsurprisingly. A list of calls as long as his arm from his mum, from Cain, some from Vic and Adam… and just as many from Robert. He’d texted as well, but the majority of messages had been in the form of voicemails. Aaron scrolled through them, checking the timestamps, his eyes falling naturally on the final one which had come in at just gone midnight. He couldn’t open his inbox to read the texts, couldn’t bring himself to see what any of them had said. Likely it would have just been pleas for him to return, but still… He couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t. There was just too much to lose and not enough to gain by coming face to face with that night again.

But despite that, his thumb continued to hover over that final voicemail from Robert, the temptation an acute thrum at the back of his head.

Do it. Do it. Do it.

He wanted to, the curiosity made him ravenous with need, but every time he came close to pressing play, his body reeled from the prospect, stunned by the utter stupidity of such an action.

But he still felt that urgency to do it deep in his gut, instinctual in a way that had his veins burning with it. It would be so easy, just one press of a button and he’d hear Robert’s voice…

His fingers curl around the phone, bringing it closer towards him, his eyes trained on the column of missed calls and voicemails just ready and waiting. His thumb rested on the side of the mobile, stroking the cold metal, teeth dragging in his lower lip.

Do it, his mind whispered, pulse quickening rapidly. Do it.

But then there was another voice, one much more familiar, much more dangerous, and it had his breath faltering.

Go on. Listen to it. Listen to him tell you how you deserved it. How you had it coming. Listen to him say he’s glad he tried to ruin your whole life.

It shook him too much, the fear like cold water over his head, and he launched the phone across the room where it smacked hard against the wall, the back of the mobile coming off and rattling off the floor.

“Not speaking to lover boy yet?”

“Shit…” he breathed, jumping to his feet instantly before wincing as his ribs protested. Charity was leaning in the living-room doorway, smirking. “How did you get in here?”

“That’s not answering my question,” she replied, sidling further in and dropping her bag onto the sofa. She quirked an eyebrow at him expectantly and he felt his skin itch with irritation. She was smiling the way Robert sometimes used to, like he had a secret no one knew and he was just dying to tell.

“What?” he snapped, easing himself gently back down into his seat, one hand pressed to his opposite side as his body relaxed a little. Charity watched him with amusement rather than concern – evidently not the tea and sympathy type – before coming to sit on the arm of the other sofa, right leg crossed over left knee.

“Well, judging by the way you just threw that phone across the room, I’m guessing you’re not in any hurry to forgive and forget,” she explained, glancing towards the broken mobile, its screen face-down. Aaron wondered if it had shattered, if it would still work… if he’d still be able to go back and listen to the messages, before he mentally chastised himself. He wouldn’t do it, even if the temptation was still there. It wasn’t until he dragged his gaze back towards her that he realised what she’d said and his blood ran cold.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Her fair lashes fluttered as she rolled her eyes back into her head, her smirk sharpening to something far more worrying. “Oh, you’ve got too innocent a face to lie like that,” she said, her tone light and breathless, halfway to laughter. “Blonde hair, cheekbones to die for, smile of a sinner… You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

And he did. Of course he did. Had known the minute Charity said the words ‘lover boy’.

“How do you-”

“Know?” she cut him off, her hazel eyes glittering. “Sweetheart, the whole village is talking about you and Sugden shacked up together. Best bit of gossip they’ve had in weeks.” She smiled again, but there was still something behind it, something Aaron couldn’t quite get at. He supposed that was Charity all over, never one to show all her cards at once. He remembered that even from when he was young.

“I’m surprised you haven’t already heard to be honest,” she continued, and he felt the penny hanging in the air, ready to drop, “thought your farmer friend would have filled you in since he was the one who blabbed.”

His brow furrowed, mind instantly turning to Adam, but the pieces didn’t fit together even though he was fairly certain they should have by now. What had Adam done?

“What?” he asked, trying to keep the tightness from his expression even though he could feel it pulling at his features. Charity saw it too and grimaced, albeit with a pinch of glee in her eyes. He was no longer surprised that everyone treated her like they did.

“Oops, have I put my foot in it?” she whispered, faking an apologetic glance. “Well, it’s not like he didn’t have it coming, eh? No need to get upset over it.”

Not like he didn’t have it coming. Not like he didn’t have it coming.

And just like that, Aaron understood. No one knew about him and Robert, and it wasn’t likely Robert had said anything about them. Which meant it was someone else, someone who had gone round to their flat and seen the single bedroom compiled of both their things.

Adam.

“So… they all know about… about…”

“You being gay?”

“Robert?” they said at the same time, but Aaron’s voice was marginally louder and thickened with worry. Charity blinked once, twice, before staring at him questioningly.

“You almost sound worried about him. Must have had an impressive hold over you if you still care after everything he did.”

It grated, the idea that Robert still clung to him like a shadow, even if it was more or less the truth. He didn’t want anyone thinking he was that pathetic that he still ached for him, still missed him despite all he’d done. He wouldn’t be that sad, that clichéd. He was doing just fine on his own.

“I don’t,” he protested, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. Charity barely seemed to notice.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t,” he said again, but he wavered at the end and he hated himself for it.

“Once more with feeling, there’s a good lad,” she joked, and that only served to have him digging his nails into the sofa cushions. “It’s all right, your secret’s safe with me. Lover boy still makes you a bit weak at the knees, I know the feeling.”

He thought about denying it again but he knew there was no point. She’d only have enjoyed his protests, twisted them round to her warped fantasy, and he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead, because frankly he had been a Hell of a lot happier before she made herself known.

“Chas was worried but she knows she’s been round pretty much every day for a fortnight so she suggested I go instead. Well… more like she forced me out the door, threatening to lynch me if I didn’t come be a dutiful auntie or whatever I am to you,” Charity explained with a shrug, now fiddling with one of her rings, looking almost bored.

“Nice to know you care,” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for her to still hear. He almost relished the look she gave him when her head shot up, a mixture of disbelief and petulance.

“I do! I care a lot, actually,” she said, eyes widening with outrage before they softened marginally. “Wouldn’t have had a word in lover boy’s ear if I didn’t.”

That went through him like a bullet, pierced the skin and found its target immediately, embedded right in the centre of his heart.

He’s back.

“You spoke to him? When?” he found himself half-demanding, a little breathless.

“Week or two back,” Charity replied, her nonchalance just exacerbating Aaron’s sheer panic. “Wasn’t looking good I must admit, but then that’s to be expected when your name’s mud and everyone’s whispering behind your back.”

Aaron could only imagine. He knew Robert’s worst nightmare was Vic finding out about him not being straight, so God knows how he’d be feeling what with the entire village knowing. At least he knew why Robert had left now, and apparently it had nothing to do with not wanting him as Aaron had first suspected.

He doesn’t want you, you idiot, the voice inside his head spat, and he shrunk from it instinctively, forcing himself to focus on Charity.

“What did he say?”

She gave a non-committal shrug and tossed her rain-spattered blonde hair over her shoulder. “Not much. Still licking his wounds, literally and metaphorically. Cain gave him a good hiding.”

“What?” he choked out, imagining Robert doubled over in a ditch somewhere, Cain launching a series of kicks aimed at his gut.

“Calm down,” Charity sighed, evidently unimpressed by Aaron’s reaction, “it was a punch to the eye and frankly, Robert took it pretty well all things considered. I thought he’d topple like a tree; I mean he’s not exactly made for fighting, is he?”

A punch to the eye. It wasn’t great but it was far more restrained than Aaron had been imagining. He let his shoulders relax, leaned back into the sofa and nodded slowly.

“Right.”

“I told him he needed to get his head out of his arse and start making amends. Not sure it went in, looks more stubborn than all our lot combined, but there must be a brain in there somewhere.”

Of course it hadn’t gone in, the last thing Robert would want to do is apologise. He probably didn’t think he had anything to apologise for.

“I don’t want to see him.” It wasn’t true. Or it was. Partly. But mostly it wasn’t. Only that it was…

“Course you don’t. Just like he doesn’t want to see you. You’re both better off without each other, right?” she countered, slicing through his confusion like a razor. God, he had never hated someone so completely before.

“Exactly,” he bit back, but all she did was smile at him as if that’s exactly what she’d been hoping he’d say.

“Then all’s well that end’s well,” she finished with a grin before her gaze shifted towards the hallway. “You gonna offer me a brew?”

“You’re staying?” He couldn’t help himself, the horror was too great to be repressed. He’d hoped she’d be leaving soon.

“Oh, thanks for that. I come all the way over to see you-”

“The pub’s just up the road,” he interjected, but she just glared at him.

“All the way over to see you, and you can’t even be bothered to make me a cup of tea? Some family you are.”

He thought about arguing the point, pointing out that he’d been beaten up and that really she should be making him a cup of tea, but he just didn’t have the energy. It was easier giving in.

“Fine.”

He got up, slowly, and padded through to the kitchen. Luckily she didn’t follow, though he did hear her footsteps circling the living-room, no doubt casing the place for any valuables if her chequered history was anything to go on. He ignored that particular thought and boiled the kettle, popping a teabag into each mug before carrying through the steaming cups before going back for the milk and sugar.

“Chas made out you were at death’s door,” she said after she’d stirred an insane heap of sugar into the milky liquid and took a loud sip. “Doesn’t look like there’s much wrong with you – pretty sure Robert looks worse off right now.”

His head jerked a little, the muscles along his back tensing badly, and he leaned forwards, elbows rested on his knees, as he stared Charity directly in the eye. “Well I can’t really show you my broken ribs but I’m pretty sure being hit with a crowbar is worse than a punch to the face.”

She blanched a little but Aaron’s satisfaction was muted by the bluntness of his own words and the reminder of what had been done to him. The pain which, at the time, had seemed never-ending.

“That what they used, is it? These random muggers?” she asked, and he heard the suspicion inflected into every word.

“Yeah,” he answered cautiously, sending out a warning for her to quit now while she was ahead.

“So you saw the weapon but you didn’t see their faces?” she bulldozed on, just as he’d feared she would.

“No.”

Her smile was almost sad, weary, as if she’d been hoping to hear something different. When she met his gaze, her eyes were gentle. “Little bit of advice for you – never take up poker.”

He ducked his head, as if that would make any difference now. “I’m not lying.”

“You’re not telling the truth either.”

“And you’d know, what with you being so honest?” he snapped, directing another glare in her direction. It washed over as easily as the others. He imagined she got it a lot.

“You know, I’m trying to help you here.”

He scoffed. “No, you’re stirring things up and passing judgement. Not what I’d call help.”

“That is help when you’re a Dingle, trust me,” she muttered before crossing her arms across her chest. “Look, you don’t fancy telling your mum about all this, I get that. And God knows what’d happen if you said owt to Cain, but I’m neither of them. I’m not going to get upset and I won’t be going after whoever did it. You can tell me.”

Maybe it was because he hadn’t expected her to be so… genuine, or maybe it was because his ribs were still hurting and he couldn’t focus properly, but for one moment he genuinely thought about telling her. Then he remembered who he was talking to, and that any sincerity she was showing him was likely going to be short-lived.

“It doesn’t matter.”

She scowled hard at him and then placed her tea down on the coffee table, actively avoiding the coaster. Vic would kill him if there was a ring left.

“Was it your pimp?”

He almost dropped his own mug, the force of her question ripping through him like a hurricane.

“Wh- What?” he stammered, balancing his tea on his lap just to stop it falling onto the floor. Charity barely altered her expression, outwardly still seeming like the picture of serenity. But he noticed that she’d placed her hands flat on her thighs and he wondered if she did it for the same reason he usually did – to stop them shaking.

“Aaron, listen to me, all right? I know what it’s like, feeling like you’ve got no one even when there’s people around you telling you to trust them. I know what it’s like to have been alone so long that you don’t know how to deal with people actually caring again.” She paused, levelled her gaze so he felt rooted, unable to look away. “And I know what it’s like being owned by someone else, and not feeling like you can go against them, even when they’ve hurt you.”

It was too specific, and the way she said it… somehow he knew she wasn’t just talking about an ex. “How?”

She let her eyes close for a moment and then seemed to shift, her whole body stiffening, defensive suddenly. She seemed ready for battle, or at least intending to barricade herself in from some impending attack.

“I’m surprised Chas hasn’t said. You’re not the first prostitute in the family, understand?”

It knocked him so badly he felt winded by it, the air gone from his lungs in one, sharp rush. He put his mug of tea down on top of a magazine, hand trembling, and swallowed as hard as he could.

Charity Dingle. Prostitute.

There’s no way he’d have ever seen that coming.

“You?” he asked, still incredulous, almost waiting for her to laugh and tell him it was a joke. Her jaw locked instead, chin jutted forwards.

“Yeah, me,” she said, and there was an undertone to the words, a challenge Aaron had no intention of taking. “So if you’re gonna talk to anyone about this stuff, I’m probably your best bet at a sympathetic ear. There’s no one else who’ll understand this better than me.”

He couldn’t seem to process it. The jigsaw pieces were right in front of him, the picture there for all to see, but he just couldn’t quite put it it altogether. “I didn’t know,” he said weakly instead, every thought inside his head stuttering and stumbling over the truth she’d just launched at him like a nuclear missile.

“Course you didn’t, all this happened before you were even born.” She said it so off-handedly that it took him a second to actually work out the mathematics behind such a statement. When he glanced up at her, she looked like she was waiting for him to ask the obvious question.

“But-”

“I was young when I started,” she answered immediately, perhaps not wanting him to get any further. “Way too young to know what I was doing or what I was getting into. Just a child, really.”

No really about it, he thought, wondering how it was possible that she had ended up on the streets when she was still just a kid. At least he’d been almost out of adolescence when he met Ronnie. That being said, it was hardly like all his problems had only started when he started getting paid for sex. No, his life had been pretty fucked up right from the beginning. And apparently Charity’s had too.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and meant it, even if he knew it wasn’t nearly enough.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m not there now, I got out eventually. Just like you. We’re the lucky ones.” She smiled again but it didn’t begin to touch her eyes this time and he knew why. It wasn’t possible to feel lucky when you had been through something like that, when it still crawled across your skin, pawed at you no matter how hard you fought back the memories. Neither of them felt lucky, all they had done was survive. And that would have to be enough.

“Yeah,” he said because there was nothing else to say.

Charity’s brow furrowed a little in confusion and she tilted her head to the side. “How did you get out?”

“Robert,” he answered without thinking, and knew immediately it had been the wrong thing to say. He saw her latch onto it like a terrier, her eyes lighting up.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“What does?” he asked, because he was too far down the rabbit hole already and there was no point trying to claw his way back up now.

“Why you’re still so hung up on him, even after what he did. It’s hard to get someone like that out from under your skin when they’ve been so good to you, especially when no one else gave a damn.”

“It’s not like that,” he said immediately, and ignored the fact he’d used the present tense. It didn’t mean anything, just a slip of the tongue. Force of habit.

“No?” she asked, and there was a lightness to her voice again, an amusement that had him squirming in his seat.

“No.”

“So it’s not just cause you’re grateful to him, then?”

He’d asked himself that already. Many times in fact. Back when they’d been living in Leeds and Robert had thrown a wad of money at him. Back when they were in their new flat and Robert was constantly blowing hot and cold, ricocheting from the smug, sexy bloke Aaron adored to a drunken and vicious wreck that Aaron actively flinched away from. And he’d definitely questioned his motives for staying when he’d been huddled upstairs in Vic and Adam’s box room, raking over every second he and Robert had spent together, wondering why he had clung on so long when all the signs had been there. Was it gratitude? Had he just been so utterly thankful for someone to show him a modicum of kindness that he had ignored everything else?

He didn’t know, and that’s what ultimately scared him. He really, genuinely didn’t know anymore.

“I… It’s complicated,” he stammered, and hoped that would be an end to it.

“The best ones are.” She said it quietly and with a far-off look that told him enough. He wasn’t the only one with regrets it seemed.

“How did you get out?”

She brought her attention back round to him with a jerk of her head, blinking rapidly as if trying to rid herself of some memory. “The first time… I trusted someone. A policeman. Thought I was finally safe – he was kind and he said he wanted to protect me. I believed every word cause no one had said anything like that to me before… Turned out he was worse than all the others. Much worse.”

He nodded, knowing already what that entailed, or being able to guess at least. She didn’t need to say anymore for him to understand her perfectly.

“How long were you with him?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet as if he thought raising it might cause her to shatter. But looking at her, he knew she was made of steel, not porcelain. Unbreakable, unflinching, undefeated. He never thought he’d say it, but he admired her.

She sniffed, rubbed at her nose a little, and kept her gaze on the wall behind him. “Long enough to feel like I’d never be free. But eventually I learned the only way out was to save myself, so I did. And I tell you what, it was the best lesson I ever learnt. Relying on yourself is the only way to go.” She looked at him then, wanted to make sure she’d got her point home, and he nodded.

“You’re saying I shouldn’t go anywhere near Robert.”

“You planning on going near him?” Charity countered immediately, eyebrow raised.

“No.”

“Liar,” she returned immediately, and he felt his stomach churn. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. In truth, he had no idea what he intended to do about Robert, only that he couldn’t bear to think about him yet, far less see him. “And as far as I can tell, Sugden’s only problem is that he hates himself. God knows why he did what he did that night, but it doesn’t seem like he did it to gain anything. Or if that was the plan, then it definitely backfired.”

Aaron thought again about the frantic stream of calls and messages he’d received that night, one after the other, Robert calling and calling and never getting an answer. What had he wanted to say that was so important?

“He’s left voicemails. And texts.”

“Read any of them?” Charity asked and he shook his head. “Are you going to?”

“No,” he said immediately, but then sighed. “I don’t know.”

She picked up her tea again and took a generous gulp. “Scared you’ll forgive him if you hear what he has to say?”

Yes. Either that or he tells me he’s not sorry at all. I’m not sure which is worse at this point.

“You almost sound like you’re on his side,” he murmured, tucking his hands up into the sleeves of his hoodie. It still faintly smelled of his and Robert’s flat, of their room, of a home that wasn’t his and never would be now. It made him ache for it all the more, sharp and insistent, prodding at his already tender heart and demanding to be felt.

“Not on anyone’s side but my own. Only way to live in my book,” Charity replied, and her voice was a welcome distraction. “But I do know what it’s like to be in his shoes, just like I know how it feels to be in yours.”

She didn’t say it any differently, didn’t change her tone at all, but something about the words picked at a scab that was already struggling to heal, and Aaron tensed.

“Oh yeah? You know what it feels like to be me, do you?” he snapped, bones rattling with an anger he hadn’t known was lurking. “Look, just because we both… just because we’ve got some things in common, doesn’t mean you know me.”

Charity stiffened as well, and the two of them stared each other down, neither willing to be the first to break. “No, it doesn’t. But I know what it’s like to keep a part of yourself hidden, to be ashamed of it, and I know exactly how it feels when suddenly everyone knows. So do you. And now… so does Robert. You and him really aren’t that different.”

“Only the difference is, I didn’t force him to come out, that wasn’t me,” he countered, his voice rising. “But he told the whole village about what I used to do, even though he knew I didn’t want anyone knowing! And all right, it worked out, no harm done, but… he didn’t know that. I could have lost everyone that night, and all because of him.”

He felt out of breath, his cheeks too hot, and Charity visibly backed down, maybe realising she was standing on a minefield and there was every chance she was about be blown to kingdom come if she didn’t tread carefully.

“You’re right. What do I know, eh? Maybe he really just wanted to hurt you and that’s why he did it. Maybe he’s as bad as everyone says he is, and maybe you really are better off without him. God knows the same thing’s been said about me enough times.” She stopped, the far-away look returning for half a second before clearing. “All I’m saying is that nothing’s ever as black and white as the gossips make it out to be. If you want to know what really went on that night, there’s no one else who can tell you except him.”

But that wasn’t true, and even if it was, Aaron wasn’t prepared to hear it. “I know what went on that night, I don’t need to hear it from him. I was there.”

She kept her gaze steady, boring into him as if trying to look past everything he was saying. He waited, waited for her to see the truth just like Robert had done so many times, but it seemed he wasn’t such an open book with others. A blessing, really.

“Fair enough,” she sighed, getting to her feet. “None of my business, anyway. You can make up your own mind, you’re not a silly, little kid. If you want to avoid him for the rest of your life, pretend like you can ignore him even when he’s living just down the road, then that’s your look-out. Nothing to do with me.”

That irked him as well, mainly because it smacked of the truth. He couldn’t avoid Robert forever, not in a village like this. Still, he didn’t need her reminding him of that fact.

“No, it isn’t,” he muttered stubbornly, hauling himself upwards until he was standing as well, albeit hunched over a little because of his damned ribs.

She headed for the hallway, slinging her bag over her shoulder before she turned in the doorway. “Still, if you ever do want to talk… not about Robert, I get that, but about the other stuff… I am here. Probably not who you want, but I’m a damned site better than nobody. Just about.”

He couldn’t see him doing it, not with her. There had only been one person he’d felt comfortable with enough to talk about his past, and that person had used it against him. He wouldn’t be making the same mistake twice.

“I’ll bear it in mind.”

She nodded, reading between the lines. “Good. I know it can eat you up, having all those memories and no way to let them out. Starts to drive you mad.”

The hallway was too dark to see her face properly, and Aaron was almost glad, not wanting to see what was reflected in her eyes. It was like coming face-to-face with a part of himself he wanted to bury, a reminder of all that he was, all that had been done to him, and all that he was to determined never to relive.

“Who did you talk to?” he asked as he pushed down on the handle and opened the front door for her. The afternoon light spilled inside and illuminated her face, sharpening the lines around her eyes and across her forehead, making her seem older. Her eyes, which had sparkled with amusement not ten minutes before, now looked dull and hollow.

“Afraid I didn’t have my own fairy godmother looking out for me, and let’s just say our lot weren’t as understanding with me as they have been with you. I was the trial run, I suppose. Still, at least they’re learning.”

He didn’t know what that meant, only that he was even more relieved for the reaction he’d gotten from his mum and Cain.

“You can always… I mean, it works both ways, doesn’t it?” he attempted, the words feeling clumsy in his mouth. “You could come to me… just like I could go to you.”

She didn’t say anything at first, too stunned perhaps, but her features softened, the hard edges of her jaw slackening off a little. Her smile was kinder this time, not a sarcastic smirk or playful grin, but something altogether sweeter than that.

“No wonder he fell for you,” she murmured, and he almost wondered if he’d heard wrong. He didn’t get a chance to question it before she had stepped back out onto the pathway, turning only once she reached the gate. “Take care of yourself, Aaron. I mean that.”

It felt final in some ways, like they had skated as close to each other’s secrets as they dared, even if there was the option to uncover even more. They wouldn’t, couldn’t perhaps, not when they were barely more than strangers to each other. Still, it didn’t leave him feeling sad or unsatisfied, more grateful that they had had a chance to talk at all.

“Yeah, I will,” he promised, leaning in the doorway with his arms wrapped around himself. She gave him another smile, a little awkward now, and then marched off back towards the Woolpack. He only watched her go for a moment before he headed back indoors, not wanting anyone to see him.

It was strange, walking back into the living-room, almost like he was returning to the scene of a crime. The mugs of tea sat half-empty on the table and he took them hurriedly through to the kitchen, washing away the evidence as if that might erase some of what she had said.

You and him really aren’t that different.

That wasn’t true though, because Robert was utterly different from him. They were polar opposites to each other. It wasn’t the same situation; they weren’t the same people. Charity might have been right about some things, but she had been dead wrong about others.

He busied himself by doing up the dishes and going upstairs to air his room and make his bed. His phone was still lying on the floor when he came back down and he picked it up, checking it over for splinters of glass but miraculously it had remained intact. The temptation to switch it on came back with a vengeance but he pushed it down once more. It wouldn’t make any difference now, no matter what Robert had said to him in those messages. Charity was wrong, he wasn’t hung up on him and he didn’t want him back.

He pushed the mobile into his back pocket and settled down onto the sofa, flicking through the channels before finally picking an old comedy show which he vaguely remembered from years back. He was still sat watching it, three episodes later, when he heard the front door slam shut.

“Aaron?” Adam’s voice echoed down the hallway and he immediately tensed, gripping the cushion which he’d been hugging a little tighter.

“In here,” he answered, trying not to sound too dismissive. A second later, Adam’s head appeared round the living-room door, all bright smiles.

“Hey,” he said, his damp hair even more curled than usual from the rain. He came further into the room, shrugging out of his winter jacket and chucking it onto the other sofa. “I was thinking, Vic’s working late tonight – some big do at the pub – so why don’t we order a takeaway, crack open a few cans and I can thrash you again on the Xbox?”

He flashed Aaron another grin and he did his best to meet it with one of his own, even if he knew it was lacklustre.

“Sounds good.”

“You all right?” The concern was evident and Aaron pushed himself further up on the sofa, shrugged but couldn’t meet Adam’s eye.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sure?”

He discarded the cushion onto the opposite end of the sofa and tucked his feet underneath him. “Charity came round,” he explained, and watched as Adam’s expression shifted from surprised to confused.

“God, what did she want?”

“Mum sent her round, she wasn’t here long,” he explained, picking at a stray thread unfurling from his cuff. “She spoke to Robert… he’s back, apparently.”

There was a pause, not long enough for it to become obvious, but still noticeable to Aaron. “Oh. Right. What did he have to say for himself, then?”

He sounded guilty, and somehow that only made Aaron feel worse. “Not much. He’s keeping his head down what with being outed to the whole village.”

“Aaron-”

“Why?” he asked before Adam could say anything else. “As if the gossips didn’t have enough to go on what with all Robert had said, and now you’re giving them more to talk about?”

Adam’s dark eyes widened with regret and Aaron couldn’t help but think that Charity would have had a field day with him.

“Look, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t, I swear. But… he just got under my skin and he deserved it. After everything he did to you, he deserved to know how it felt.”

“Only it’s not just him they’re talking about, is it?” he said, still angry even though it was fading fast. “I didn’t want this, Adam. I didn’t want them knowing anymore about me than they already did.”

Adam slumped forwards, put his head in his hands and groaned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Aaron couldn’t take it anymore, already felt bad enough as it was laying into him when he understood why he’d done it. “What did he say that got you so wound up, anyway?” he asked instead, mainly because he couldn’t handle another apology.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Aaron screwed up his face, having picked up on Adam’s deliberate evasion immediately. “Obviously did otherwise you wouldn’t have gone off at him.”

Again, Adam didn’t look at him. “You don’t want to know.”

“Well I do now.”

“He was just… being a wanker, wasn’t he? Like always. Don’t need to go raking over it,” he explained, but it sounded more like a plea, as if he was begging Aaron to drop it. That wasn’t really Aaron’s style.

“Adam, what did he say?”

“Look, I really don’t think-”

“Tell me,” he said, more forcefully this time, and tried hard to keep his voice level. No good would come of them arguing.

Adam sighed. “He was just mouthing off, that’s all. Think he was spooked when me and Vic realised… well, you know. He just said some stuff and I lost it.”

Aaron pictured again what Robert would have been like once his little sister had found her way into their bedroom, their very obviously shared bedroom. Did he try to stop them? Or had he accepted as soon as they walked through the door that the game was up? Knowing Robert, he’d probably have tried to fob them off with some excuse just to keep them from going down the corridor.

“Yeah, but what stuff? What did he actually say?” Aaron probed, having caught the scent of something now and wanting to get to the bottom of it. Adam squirmed but when he met Aaron’s eye, he looked resigned. Defeated.

“He said that it was nothing… you and him, whatever was going on. Said it meant nothing to him. Tried to make out he wasn’t gay and then followed me and Vic home, shoved me against a wall… as if he thought that would do any good.”

Nothing.

It meant nothing.

It meant nothing to him.

I meant nothing to him.

“Right.” The word barely made it past his lips, the hurt choking him, and the anger followed quickly after, though not at Robert. He was angry at himself, angry for even momentarily thinking that he had got it wrong, that perhaps there was more to the story than Aaron had first believed. There was no more to it, nothing else he needed to know.

I meant nothing to him.

“He’s a prick, Aaron, always has been. Don’t listen to anything he says,” Adam said by way of comfort, not that the words touched him at all. He was too far into himself now, shrinking back behind his defences again, where he was safe.

“No, I mean he’s right. It was nothing, not really. Not like we were gonna stay as we were, was it?” He said it without thinking, without engaging, did it because he knew he had to. It was damage control, trying to bluff his way out, pretend he wasn’t in pain. Adam didn’t look at all convinced.

“Well… yeah, I suppose. I mean, you definitely deserve better than him.”

Except that wasn’t true, because he didn’t deserve anyone. Life had taught him that, and my God was he finally learning his lesson.

“Think I should just stay on my own. Easier all round,” he muttered, dragging the cushion back over to him and wrapping his arms around it. He no doubt looked like a child but he was passed caring. Adam wasn’t going to judge, or if he did then he would do so silently. And he couldn’t make Aaron feel any smaller than he already did.

Adam came to sit on the arm of the sofa, patted Aaron’s shoulder hard and almost knocked the air from his lungs. “Nah, good-looking bloke like you? You’ll have a queue outside the door in no time.” His tone was light but forced, trying to inject some positivity into him as if that would fix all his problems. Aaron wanted to be grateful, he was grateful, but he just couldn’t muster up enough energy to let it show.

“If you say so.”

Adam punched his arm lightly, standing again. “Oi, I’m not gonna have you feeling sorry for yourself, and definitely not because of that idiot. Look, you’re well shot of him, anyone’d tell you the same. Even Vic thinks you’re better off. Just put him out of your head and move on, he’s not worth it.”

But he’s in my head. He’s always in my head. How am I supposed to get him out?

“Yeah. Probably right,” he replied quietly, because saying anything else would have prolonged the conversation and he didn’t want that. It had already gone on long enough.

“Definitely right. Now, get Fifa set up and I’ll bring us through a few beers.” Adam didn’t wait for an answer, just disappeared through to the kitchen where Aaron heard the fridge door open a few seconds later, the clink of beer bottles jangling like wind-chimes through the whole house.

***

Adam let Aaron win, and Aaron didn’t complain because he didn’t want either of them to acknowledge why he was being so nice. Eventually though, the pain in his side got too much and he feigned exhaustion, heading upstairs feeling the weight of concern directed at him by Adam from the hallway. He took a shower, scrubbing his skin clean as if that would somehow rid him of Robert’s touch which felt branded onto every part of him, and then huddled under the duvet until he heard Adam head off to bed an hour or so later.

He couldn’t sleep though. Tried as hard as he could, squeezed his eyes shut and waited for unconsciousness to seep into his veins, but still he stayed wide awake. Eventually, exasperated and grouchy, he padded back downstairs and got a glass from the cupboard. He turned on the cold tap and poured himself some water, gulping it down quickly and shivering as it cooled his insides. He was just pouring himself a second glass when the front door clicked open and Vic shuffled inside, startling them both when she saw him hidden in the shadows of the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry! Did I wake you?” she asked, though he wasn’t sure how that could be possible considering he’d been downstairs already when she came in. He didn’t question it though, just shook his head and switched on the kitchen light, the two of them blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness as she took off her coat and hung it on the hook.

“No, I was just… getting some water,” he explained, nodding towards the glass as if he needed to prove it. “Adam said you were working late?”

She sighed, slipping through the doorway and leaning her hip against the kitchen table. “Yeah, April had a temperature so Marlon wasn’t in – meant muggins here was left to cater for the boules team.”

He refrained from asking what on Earth a boules team was doing having a party at the Woolpack, and especially one that needed catering. “Sounds fun,” he commented instead, taking a slower sip of water.

“Let’s just say I’m glad they’re as crap as they are – one win a year is enough,” she joked before her eyes scanned over him as they always did. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Don’t know, you just seem quiet. Or… quieter than normal.”

“I’m fine,” he answered, and knew by her expression that she didn’t believe him. Sometimes he wondered if Vic and Adam weren’t the same person they were so alike.

“Okay.”

He sighed, deciding she was only going to hear about it all from Adam as soon as she went upstairs, and bit the bullet.

“I know… that everyone knows… about me and Robert.”

Her green eyes almost popped out of her skull and she roughly pushed her hair behind her ears, a nervous tick he’d come to realise.

“Oh. Did Adam-?”

“Eventually. Charity came round, told me everything.”

“Oh.” Her voice was flatter this time, disappointed. He wondered if Adam had promised her he’d tell Aaron himself. “I’m really sorry.”

He shrugged, not wanting to make anyone else feel bad for a mess of his own making. “It’s fine. Would’ve come out eventually.”

She checked him over again, quickly but no less thorough, but once satisfied her expression changed from one of worry to one of curiosity. “Since you do know now… that everyone knows… Can I ask you something?”

No, was his instinctual answer, but that would only have made her even more curious, and that was a dangerous thing in Victoria.

“Yeah.”

“Why were you with Robert?” she asked it suddenly, rushing to say the words as if she was scared of bottling it at the last minute. “I mean… I know he’s my brother and there’ll always be a part of me that loves him, even if it’s really deep down. But, what did you see in him?”

The surprise must have showed on his face because she immediately smiled apologetically. “Sorry, you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just… I don’t know. I didn’t expect you to ask… that.”

She shrugged. “I suppose I’ve just never seen him with anyone, or not since Katie and I was only a kid then. Plus it was… well, a mess. Not that you and him have been much better to be fair.” She halted again, regret making her nose wrinkle. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Sounds like I got off lightly considering what he said he’d do to Katie.”

Vic nodded, rubbing a hand in circles against her temple. “I’m guessing she told you?”

“No, Robert played me the recording,” Aaron corrected, and then wondered if he had said the wrong thing judging by her reaction.

“What?”

He glanced around, not sure why she seemed so shocked. “A couple days before he went off on one in the pub, he played it for me. Said he wanted me to know, said he wanted to explain his side.”

It felt so long ago now, even though it was only a month since it had happened. Robert had looked so nervous, so young, his hands cradling the phone as he pressed play and waited for Aaron to bolt.

Except it wasn’t me who ran, was it? he thought, and grimaced.

“Oh. Right,” she said, the words stilted. “So he… I mean he… told you himself? No one forced it out of him?”

He shook his head, took another gulp of water. “No. Well, Mum told me bits and pieces but not the full picture. And then I told him I was gonna leave it, not ask anymore, and then he decided he wanted to tell me.”

“Oh. Okay.” She was looking at him like she was missing some vital piece of the puzzle, something he had yet to reveal to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“No. No… nothing. I just didn’t expect him to be… I don’t know, he’s not really big on…”

“On?”

“Opening up. Being honest. Or at least, he never did before,” she answered, lashes still fluttering with surprise. “So, what did he say? What were his reasons for what he did to Katie?”

He almost told her. Almost launched into a full explanation. But something stopped him, something which felt sickeningly like loyalty. Robert had told him, no one else. He’d said that no one else wanted to listen to him, that no one else had believed him. And even though Aaron knew he didn’t owe him anything, he still found his tongue swelling, refusing to say the words.

“Oh, well… I don’t know, he probably told you himself.”

Vic crossed her arms over her chest, defensive in a way he’d never seen from her before. “Never said a word to me,” she answered, only to soften seconds later. “Not that I let him, really. We weren’t exactly talking at the time.”

He remembered. Remembered that Robert had only gotten back in touch seemingly when Aaron came on the scene. That Robert getting closer to his little sister again had prompted the move back and everything that had followed. Another lifetime now.

“Yeah, he might have mentioned something about that, actually.”

“Did he say anything else?” she pressed, leaning forwards a little as if pushed on by her own eagerness to know. “Before he came back, I mean, about me? Or his family?”

Aaron thought back to when they were still in Leeds, when everything had been so new and he’d just been waiting for it all to come crashing down. When Robert had come back and sought solace from Aaron’s shoulder as he talked about his childhood while the steam from the Shepherd’s Pie curled upwards on the dining table.

“Nothing much. Talked a bit about your dad-”

“Dad?” Vic exclaimed, taking a step backwards. “He actually… he actually talked about him?”

The reaction was so sudden that all Aaron could do was nod in agreement. “Yeah. Not loads or anything, just… a bit.”

Vic tucked her hair behind her ears again. “Right.”

“It’s not like we were pouring our hearts out to each other, Vic.”

It took her a second but eventually she managed to compose herself, looking a little less like a rabbit caught in the headlights. “No, course not. But… Sorry, it just doesn’t sound like him. At all. You’d have a better time getting emotion out of cement. Robert doesn’t do feelings.”

He did with me.

That thought was immediately shoved into the back of his mind, hopefully never to be heard from again.

“Well, it didn’t look like he had too many people to talk to before I came along. Probably just needed someone who’d listen, doesn’t mean anything.”

I meant nothing to him. He meant nothing to me. That’s the only way I’m getting through this.

“Maybe you’re right. Not like I really know him anyway, not properly. He’s my brother but sometimes he feels more like a stranger. I bet you know more about him, the real him I mean, than any of us do.”

He flinched, couldn’t help himself. He’d already had Charity on at him for giving Robert a chance, for saying that they were two sides of the same coin. Then he’d had the opposite from Adam… He couldn’t take Vic piling on as well.

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

“I think it is,” she continued on, evidently having not heard the warning in his voice. “He’s never once talked to me about mum or dad. Every time I brought them up he’d immediately change the subject or just refuse to speak altogether. And Katie… I don’t know. I suppose he did try to explain, but he was always so defensive, it felt more like an argument than an explanation.”

“Maybe he felt like he needed to defend himself,” he answered and then wanted to kick himself. He’d done it automatically, just as he had done when his mum had been laying into Robert, just like he’d done when Diane was having a go as well. That need to protect Robert, to come to his aid, was buried so deep that it was practically subconscious. Aaron would need to dig it with his own nails if he ever wanted to be rid of it.

“You know I can almost see it,” Vic murmured, and she was looking at him now with a very strange look on her face.

“What?”

“Why you two were together. Why he chose you.”

It wasn’t a choice… cause there’s no way you would ever have chosen me. He’d said that to Robert once, and Robert had come into his room that night and promised him he wasn’t going anywhere. Aaron had genuinely believed he was telling the truth, that for some reason known only to Robert, he was willing to stay with Aaron no matter what.

How wrong he had been…

“Cheers for that, Vic,” he mumbled, keeping his thoughts at bay even as they pushed against his walls like the sea crashing into the cliff-edge.

“No!” she exclaimed before sighing. “I mean, obviously you’re good looking and everything, but it’s not like you and him just had a one-night-stand. You lived with him, he brought you back home with him. There must have been more to it than that, and hearing you… talking about him, it just makes more sense now.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Didn’t like the sound of that at all. “How?”

“Because you know him. And not like I do, not like anyone here does. Sounds like you got past some of those walls, even if it was only for a bit.”

“Yeah, and then he decided to destroy everything,” he snapped, his grip on the glass feeling weaker than before. He chucked the water down the sink and placed it firmly on the counter. “Don’t kid yourself that we were anything more than just… what we were. I know what he said to you and Adam. That I was nothing.”

“I’m not sure-”

“He meant it. Robert’s always had a way with words, always chooses them carefully. He means everything he says, and he definitely meant that. Proved it the minute he opened his mouth in the pub.”

He let out a breath once he was finished, his mouth bone dry. He hadn’t meant to say any of that and especially not to Vic, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t what he felt. It was the truth after all.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t’ve brought it all up,” she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“No, it’s fine. Just don’t go kidding yourself that Robert was different with me. From what I’ve heard, sounds like he was exactly the same.”

And that was true, too. It was, even if, somehow, it felt like a betrayal to say it.

Vic nodded, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her starched white chef’s jacket. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

He didn’t bother telling her it was fine for the umpteenth time, just gave a nod as if to say ‘I heard you and it’s okay’.

“Think I’ll go to bed. I’m heading up to Wishing Well tomorrow,” he said, though truthfully he hadn’t intended to go and see Zak and Lisa at all. His mum had said they wanted to see him though, so he supposed it was as good a time as any to visit.

“Oh, that’s good!” Vic said eagerly, perhaps too eagerly considering how uneventful the news was. “Get out of the house for a bit. No more cabin fever.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he replied, manoeuvring past her towards the door.

“I can run you up if you want? Might be a bit too much of a walk-”

“No, think it’ll do me good. Stretch my legs.” He watched her face fall and placed a tentative hand on her arm for just a second before removing it. “Thanks, though.”

She gave him a smile, apologetic and grateful all at once. “No problem. Night, then.”

“Night.”

He forced himself to look straight ahead as he made his way upstairs, even though he could feel her watching him, no doubt thinking again about all he had said about her brother. He slipped back into his bedroom, feeling much wearier than before, and dove under the covers, wrapping himself up tightly to try and instil some warmth back into his skin. As he drifted off, he couldn’t help but wish he had another’s body to wrap around him instead, keeping out the cold.

Chapter Text

Jaffa Cakes, he’d found, were a lot like crack.

He had a sweet tooth, no doubt about that, but his preference had always been for something rock hard he could suck on – a joke in there, he knew - but for some unknown reason, since attempting to go without alcohol of any kind, Jaffa Cakes had become his substitute. There was something about the slightly bitter chocolate and the zesty, orange tang which made him feel a little more settled in himself, and when he went into his office in the morning, he took a packet with him and munched through half before he reached lunchtime. It was strange because he’d never been one for citrus, preferred the more exotic, tropical fruits like mangoes and pineapples, but he remembered his mum had always loved them. She had a lemon drizzle cake every year for her birthday and because no one else had enjoyed it that much, she’d always laughed, skin crinkling at the corners of her eyes, and said: “More for me, then!” It somehow made him feel closer to her, despite the rather loose connection between them, and he gazed at the blue and orange box rather fondly in memory of her.

He knew why the change had happened though, this sudden need to readjust his equilibrium. Andy’s words resounded like a heavy bass in his gut even now, followed almost immediately by a sickening sense of shame, and the two together had forced him into rational action. He’d thrown out the cabinet full of various bottles of spirits, cleaned the flat until it was spotless – and utterly devoid of any reminders from a life he’d never now know – and devoted himself to work, messaging Ollie… and Jaffa Cakes. It wasn’t exactly a high-stakes life but then that suited him fine, less drama was exactly what he needed, even if the tedium of it all had started to make him a little antsy. Which was probably why, when he went over to David’s to get another packet of his drug of choice and found the shop bereft, he overreacted just a little.

“What do you mean you’re out of stock? Who runs out of Jaffa Cakes?” he demanded, one hand gripping the counter while the other waved out to his side, gesturing again towards the pathetically empty shelf.

David spluttered a little, shifting from one foot to the other, evidently offended that he was being accused of some form of negligence.

“The delivery’s late, that’s all. Should be in by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Robert exclaimed, looking again at the shelf as though one last packet might suddenly materialise out of nowhere to save him. “What good is tomorrow? I wanted to buy them now?”

“What d’you want them so urgently for, anyway?”

He gave Robert a funny look, a look that was not uncommon in a country village, which ran from suspicious to judgemental in record timing. Robert almost wanted to give him something to really talk about – Haven’t you heard, David? All us gays use Jaffa Cakes as butt plugs now, it’s the latest trend – but decided against it, mainly because he doubted whether David had the mental capabilities of understanding sarcasm, plus he didn’t fancy having anymore rumours being spread about him.

“Because I’ve run out,” he said instead, glaring him down before David had the chance to predictably reply with something inane like ‘ditto’ or ‘snap’. He plumped for a packet of Hob Nobs in the end just so he didn’t go away empty-handed, already knowing they’d go stubbornly ignored and uneaten on the kitchen counter, the ugly duckling of the biscuit world which was no one’s first choice and yet still languished in every British household’s cupboard.

He handed over his change, smarting a little at the hiked up prices, and then snatched the biscuits from David’s hand, giving him another menacing glower just to ram the point home. He’ll never run low on Jaffa Cakes again, he thought as he made his way out of the shop, smirking rather triumphantly.

And then he stopped.

Aaron was further up the street, just slipping through the gate at Keeper’s Cottage and, Robert noticed with a wince, hobbling a little up the road. The shock of it was like a hard slap to the face and he almost trembled with the exertion of just standing. Part of him was desperate to run to catch up with him, the other part wanted to run in the opposite direction, so in the end he stayed very still and just stared.

It was a relief. He had imagined, of course he had, running into him at some point, and come to the conclusion that he would likely remain stunned for the duration of their encounter or possibly attempt to say something. But now that the initial shock was wearing off, he found himself overcome by a sense of calm. It drenched him to the bone and left him a little shaky but no less glad, and certainly lighter, as if he had just removed an unknown weight which had been shackled round his neck for God knows how long. Well… he did know how long, but that was by the by. What mattered was that Aaron was well, or well enough to go out, to walk, to be standing. Robert had had visions of him being bedbound, possibly unrecognisable concealed by layers of bandages and gauze. Seeing him with that familiar black hoodie wrapped tightly about himself was as close as Robert had come to happiness in weeks.

Still, his eyes lingered on Aaron’s right leg which lifted awkwardly off the tarmac as he moved, and the way his arms almost hugged his torso as if trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t healed, or not completely, and Robert didn’t like to think what internal wounds were barely scabbing over yet. He had been privy to only the scantest of details about Aaron’s past, but he knew he had been unable to shake it off or leave it where it was. He travelled with those memories everywhere he went, continued to endure them, and now he had yet more suffering to add to his already ample collection. It wasn’t fair, and the injustice knotted hard in his gut, only slightly less difficult to bear than his guilt.

You did this.

He hadn’t, he knew that. He hadn’t pummelled Aaron to the point of hospitalisation, so he had not directly caused his injuries. But he was no less responsible for it all the same. He had pushed Aaron into running, had forced him to remove himself from the safe boundaries of his home, and straight into the waiting arms of some psychopath.

You might as well have beaten him up yourself.

He felt his throat close up a little at the nauseating idea of it and coaxed himself into moving, knowing that if he stayed any longer just gawping that someone would realise why. He only made it a few steps though before he stopped again, turned and watched as Aaron kept shuffling up the road.

Where are you going? he asked internally, wondering for a moment if he was heading to see Chas, but Aaron passed the pub and kept walking. Robert’s memory of the village was still sharp and he deduced fairly quickly that he was either going for a country walk to get some fresh air, or he was going up to the Dingles homestead. He supposed it was likely the latter, given how big they were on family. They would want to see him, feed him up and make a fuss.

Just as they should, he felt the need to remind himself, but it was forced out, reproachful given how bitter and envious he felt. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had invited him round, made a fuss of him, offered to cook him dinner. That’s what families were for, and his own had made it abundantly clear he was no longer welcome, or considered a relation at all.

His gaze naturally slid over to Keeper’s, wondering if Vic was in or at work, wondering if she still burned with hatred for him or if it had tempered slightly. Maybe she’d gone cold now, indifferent to him. He’d felt that before, when he’d been in Leeds and all his texts and calls had gone unanswered. He'd felt it even more when he came back to find Aaron shifting uncomfortably and had had to explain, an apology behind the words, that she didn’t want to hear from him. It was no different now, or possibly worse. She’d gone against her better judgement, and against everyone’s advice, to give him another chance. She’d hoped and he’d let her, and now she wasn’t just dealing with the usual disappointment and anger and sadness which followed on from one of his disastrous errors. Now she had to contend with humiliation as well. He’d done that to her, and he had no idea how to make amends.

He curled his cold-nipped fingers round the hard, plastic seam of the hob knobs and hauled himself out of his thoughts, pushing on for home without any further delay. But once he was back inside the flat, the air a little too stale from having been cooped inside too long with the heating turned all the way up, he couldn’t seem to settle. He ate a biscuit just for something to do but grimaced when his tongue was met with gritty oats instead of sponge and chocolate and orange jelly. He took out a cup to make himself a coffee but put it back immediately. The effort was too much, but staying still wasn’t an option either. He moved restlessly through the rooms, back and forth from the kitchen to the living-room to the bedroom, pacing the hall as if he could leave his issues behind him. But it wasn’t that simple, not now that Aaron was firmly back in his head again.

When will I see him next? His thoughts were eager and impatient, a childish urgency to have the thing he wanted now. It could end up being weeks until they accidentally bumped into each other, and even then there was no guarantee it would be any more eventful than Robert watching the back of Aaron’s head as he stalked off somewhere. He wanted more than that, more than what he had been given already.

Greed, that’s your problem, lad. You’re never bloody satisfied.

His skin prickled with the memory of his father’s voice, heated and gruff, kicking off his work boots by the door where mud spattered on the stone floor. Robert had been young, mop of blonde hair in front of his eyes, a little sticky with sweat. Jack had said nothing more, just banged around in the kitchen, purposefully ignoring his son by giving him the cold shoulder until eventually he turned, his mouth set in a hard line, and said tersely: “Come here.” And Robert had gone, obedient if anxious, and Jack had laid a heavy, calloused hand on his shoulder, the force of it alone making his knees wobble as he watched his father crouch down to eye-level.

“If you want summat that badly, you go out and you work for it. That’s how me and your mum have always brought you up and it’s the way we were taught an’ all. You’ll be the better for it, son.”

Robert remembered nodding, wriggling free of his father’s grip to go play upstairs where he proceeded to forget the life lesson altogether. He couldn’t recall why the conversation had even come about, likely he’d been badgering his dad for some new toy or maybe a bike, but now it felt like the memory was telling him something different.

If you want summat so badly, you go out and you work for it.

He’d learnt that on his own, learnt it through every business transaction he’d ever made, every rung he’d climbed up the career ladder. If he'd wanted something, he’d put all his energy into getting it until it was his and his alone. He’d rarely bothered with people before, maybe because they weren’t so easy to calculate or control as an investment portfolio.

But he wanted Aaron. Still, despite everything, he wanted him. And even though his dad would no doubt be spinning in his grave to know Robert was applying his advice to Robert’s gay lover, the theory of it still stood firm.

Go out and work for it.

Well, he’d never been one to shy away from a challenge.

***

It wasn’t quiet in the café, but part of him was grateful for that. Silence was inevitably filled with his own paranoia, eyes flitting from one face to the next as if waiting for someone to come at him. Instead, he was able to slip in quietly just behind a mum with a pushchair and wait to order his coffee and a sticky bun – the sugar cravings were bad now considering he had usually scoffed about seven Jaffa Cakes by this point in the day. He nabbed a table by the window which had just been vacated by the local vicar - a woman who, Robert thought, would have looked more at home on the back of a Harley Davidson than in a dog collar - and put his mug and plate on the windowsill so he could comfortably fit his laptop on the table.

He didn’t have much to do by way of work, a few emails to read through and subsequently answer, a spreadsheet to finish, and a few messages back and forth between himself and Daniel, with the occasional input from Ollie which was mainly just a series of evermore colourful and inventive ways of saying ‘fuck off’. It kept him engrossed for about an hour, though half that time was spent intermittently looking up to check that Aaron wasn’t walking back down the street. He’d have to come back eventually he reasoned, unless he stopped over at Wishing Well which wasn’t impossible if he was being honest. But he knew Aaron, and Aaron liked familiarity, he liked knowing where everything was and staying over somewhere new wouldn’t sit well with him.

He stayed over at the pub once, Robert reminded himself, and then felt the pang of doubt which followed. Maybe Aaron had no problems with new surroundings as long as it included members of his kith and kin. Maybe Aaron had only ever been nervous to stay when Robert was around.

He turned, literally, from the prospect and found a message waiting for him.

Ollie: Paper-weight or whisky bottle?

Robert winkled his nose, unsure what riddles his friend was currently writing in, and typed back a series of question marks. It only took a few seconds for a reply to come through.

Ollie: Daniel’s being a prick and I want to know which would be better to lob at him.

Robert couldn’t help but snort, imagining one of Ollie’s paper-weights singing through the air before cracking Daniel on the back of the skull. He was sure half the office would applaud, himself included.

Robert: Go for the paper-weight. Don’t want to waste the whisky.

He watched the little dots flicker on the screen before he read the reply.

Ollie: I’d use an empty bottle, eejit. You’d never catch me wasting a drop, not even on Dickless Danny.

Robert had to actively bite the inside of his cheek until he almost drew blood, and sent off a winky face just to mess with him. The reply was immediate and expected.

Ollie: Don’t fucking start with those wee faces!!!!

Ollie had never managed to grasp the more modern elements of technology or social media, despite being able to type like a secretary on speed and whip up a set of graphs or accounts faster than you could say ‘Alan Turing, eat your heart out’. Robert had tried to get him on twitter, mainly because he felt the world had so far been deprived of the entertainment value that was Ollie’s thought-processes, but his attempts had so far been unsuccessful. The emojis were even more hilarious, because while Ollie understood what most of them meant, he had no idea how to actually make them himself or find them from the drop-down menu on the messenger screen, so instead he took out his frustration on the exclamation mark. It was like twisting hard on a spinning top and watching it go, or riling a toddler to the point of an almighty tantrum. Very, very good fun, but also quite dangerous if pushed too far.

He sent a crying face in response and received, a few minutes later, a picture of Ollie, or rather Ollie’s hand, giving him the middle-finger. Robert didn’t have the heart to tell him there was an emoji for that, too.

Bob came over about ten minutes later once Robert had picked at the last remaining crumbs on his tea-plate, offering to get him something else to drink or eat. The older man was all smiles as usual, but there was an air of concern which wafted around him like a bad smell, and when Robert glanced around the packed space, he found the source of the owner’s fears.

Chas was standing at the counter, the fur collar of her coat pulled up against the winter chill, and she was currently saying something to Brenda, her mouth twisted into a scowl. Brenda, clad in a floral apron, glanced over as she handed Chas her change and Robert knew they had been discussing him.

“I’ll have another Americano, thanks,” he said to Bob though he didn’t pull back his gaze. Chas’s dark eyes darted towards him for a moment, halted when she found him staring back, and then marched over, her cardboard cup and bag of pastries gripped in one hand, the other a fist by her side.

“You’ve got some nerve,” she hissed and Bob beat a hasty retreat back behind the counter, no doubt wanting to save himself before the nuclear explosion hit. Robert almost envied him, before remembering this was Bob and shook the thought from his mind.

“I’m having a coffee, hardly a crime,” he answered, aware that it was probably about as wise as prodding a starving Rottweiler. She gave him a similarly bared snarl and inched closer, bending over the table so she could encroach completely into his personal space. He was reminded again at how obvious it was that she and Cain shared genetic material.

“I know exactly what you’re doing,” she said, and he had to smirk, the tone reminiscent of some batty, mistrusting old biddy whose hobbies included twitching net curtains and spying through her binoculars.

“Got my number, have you? Marked my card?”

For a second, he thought he was about to have his face swiped by her talons, but in the end she settled for slamming the lid of his laptop shut, the smack making Brenda startle from where she was half-ducking behind the cake tier. Robert hid a smile.

“Why don’t you go back to that rock you were hiding under and leave us all in peace?” she suggested, and Robert knew that the ‘us’ she was referring to was actually just her son. If only she knew why he had decided to take himself off to the café in the first place, she’d likely have dragged him by his ear all the way back to Mill Cottage.

“I’m not the one coming over here like a bull in a china shop, making a scene. Pretty sure if anyone’s destroying the peace and tranquillity around here, it’s you.”

“You think you’re so clever-”

“I do, as it happens,” he cut her off, flashing his most devilish smile. He could almost hear Chas grinding her teeth together as she leaned in even closer.

“Well, you’re not so clever that Aaron didn’t see right through you. And it looks like everyone else is steering clear as well. You’ve got no one round here, no one that wants owt to do with you, so you might as well leave.”

He hated her for that. Not because it wasn’t true, it was, but he hated her for saying it so publically, for humiliating him. He could do the same back, could rake over her questionable record as a mother, pick at every horrible decision she had ever made in full view of the rest of the village. But he wouldn’t, because she was an enemy already and he didn’t fancy being visited by Cain in an alleyway anytime soon.

“I’m fine where I am, thanks,” was all he said, and it gave him a modicum of satisfaction to see that the words had riled her.

“Just stay clear of him, you hear? He wants nothing to do with you.” She straightened, backing up a few paces, and Robert felt the words sting like lemon juice in an open wound. He breathed, let himself take a moment to listen only to the sound of his heartbeat, and then broke into a grin.

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,” he said just loud enough for Chas to hear. Her dark eyes snapped up to meet his and he only smiled wider.

“This lady is going to kick your arse into next week if you say anything else,” she hissed, painted nails digging into her palms.

He gave her a wink and mimed zipping his mouth shut, an action which had Chas visibly battling her own conscience over whether to punch him in the face. He wondered if Cain had already told her about their run in a few weeks earlier. No doubt they’d laughed about it over the bar. Maybe Aaron had joined in, the Dingles toasting to another successful thuggish beating.

The thought thudded in his stomach, an ache for which he had no option but to repress completely, and watched as Chas gave him one final, burning glare before turning on her heel and striding out of the café. The door banged shut behind her and he saw Bob and Brenda immediately start to whisper amongst themselves, evidently thrilled to have something to occupy their painfully dull lives. He rolled his eyes at them and went back to his laptop, opening the lid and checking for any new emails while he waited to see Aaron return.

He was onto his third cup of coffee by the time afternoon approached, and the hard wooden chair had made his arse completely numb. He had nothing left to do, no work to catch up on, no messages to reply to from Ollie, not even a semi-hilarious cat video he could distract himself with. He was bored out of his mind and in desperate need of going home if for no other reason than to be as far from bloody Brenda as was humanly possibly. She’d come over with his Americano and offered to get him a cupcake as well.

“There’s rainbow sprinkles on it… thought you’d like that,” she'd said with a smile, the sincerity of which was bordering on the offensive. He’d forced himself to bite down on his tongue rather than tell her where she could stick her rainbow cupcake, and just shook his head. Now, though, his stomach was grumbling and he was wondering if he could brave asking for a sandwich without Dumb and Dumber somehow turning it round to the LGBT cause.

He was just eyeing up the menu chalked onto the blackboard when he saw movement outside and his head twisted round just in time to see Aaron shuffling down the road. He almost knocked his laptop onto the floor in his haste to shove it back into his bag and then flung himself through the door and out into the street.

“Aaron!” he called without thinking, still zipping up his bag and hurrying to catch up. Aaron was barely a few metres ahead but he kept walking as though he hadn’t heard. So we’re doing this the hard way, then?

“Come on, can’t give me the cold shoulder forever,” he tried instead, jogging to meet him. From this angle, Robert could just see the side of his face and all the faint, yellow bruising across his cheekbone and eye socket. It was better than he’d anticipated, but it still made his gut churn.

He got not reply again, barely a flinch to confirm Aaron had even registered his presence, and there was only so long Robert could stand being ignored before he decided on a different tactic. He sighed and then made a grab for Aaron’s wrist, yanking him to a stop only to have himself shoved back immediately with impressive force.

“Don’t touch me!” Aaron yelled, a little breathless, his arms now back almost cradling his torso. Robert’s eyes flicked down to his stomach, wondering what injuries were currently hidden by his clothes, and then forced himself to look up.

He’d forgotten how blue his eyes were. It was stupid really, hardly the point considering everything else, but it was the first thing that entered Robert’s head. They were startlingly blue, icy and yet somehow warm, a frozen sea that still beckoned you forwards, daring you to come closer.

“All right. All right, I understand. You hate me, I get that,” he said, keeping his voice gentle. He wasn’t going to get anywhere unless he could at least get Aaron to calm down. “Look… just hear me out, please?”

“Hear you out?” Aaron bit back, teeth bared, and Robert took a necessary step back. “Why? So you can spin me more of the same bullshit and I’ll forgive you? I don’t think so.”

He started to walk away, shoulders hunched forwards, chin tucked into the zipper of his hoodie, and Robert recognised all the signs, could hardly fail to miss them. He wanted to be alone.

“It’s not bullshit, Aaron,” he tried, because this wasn’t over. It couldn’t be over, not yet. But Aaron was still walking and he was getting closer to Keeper’s. Robert needed to act, he needed to get him to stay. “Jesus, can you just stop for two seconds-”

“No!” Robert had tried to put his hand on Aaron’s arm again but Aaron whirled on him before he could, those same blue eyes now dark and a little red as they smarted with tears. “You did this!” he shouted, the words coming out on a choke. Robert felt each one lance his skin and he sucked in a breath, stunned into silence.

“Aaron-” he managed after he’d kickstarted his heart again, but Aaron was shaking his head. He looked tired, defeated, like he was done with the whole world.

“Look, just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, right?”

No. Not right. How can that be right?

“Aaron-”

“You can’t fix this, Robert,” he said, and he was looking at him properly now, their gaze locked in place. Robert couldn’t have turned away if he tried. Aaron had him. “I don’t want you to,” he finished quietly, and when he started walking away this time, Robert didn’t try to stop him.

You can’t fix this.

Except that he could, because Robert was good at solving problems, he was good at working out a way to make things right when he’d fucked up. That’s what he did. And this was no different. In fact, this was easy, because Aaron might be hurting, but it showed he cared. Somewhere, deep down, he cared enough to still be hurt, and that meant Robert had an in.

You can’t fix this.

Only that wasn’t true. He could fix it and, with a startling amount of clarity, he suddenly understood how.

He stood on the street and watched Aaron make his way up to Keeper’s before slipping inside, never once turning back to glance in Robert’s direction, but it didn’t matter. There was hope, not much but it was there, and Robert had never felt more driven in his entire life.

The jangle of a bell startled him out of his half-formed plan and he turned to see Adam slipping out of David’s carrying a bag of groceries. It was like a lightbulb flashing inside his brain and he started moving instantly, striding down the road and shortening the gap between himself and Adam in a matter of seconds.

“Adam!” he called just to draw attention to himself, and Adam looked up only to immediately roll his eyes.

“Piss off, Robert,” he muttered, shouldering passed him and making his way back up towards the cottage. Robert followed at his heels, unperturbed.

“That’s no way to talk to your brother-in-law,” he quipped, and Adam threw him a side glance before returning his attention on getting as far away from him as possible.

“Well maybe if I thought you were actually family…”

Robert let it wash over him, his sights set higher now, and kept following Adam. “Listen, just- Hang on!”

“What do you want?” Adam half-yelled, turning on Robert with a dark, furious eyes.

“I want to know how much you know about who hurt Aaron?”

Adam slid his gaze down the length of Robert’s body before meeting his eye. “I’m looking at him,” he said seriously, and Robert felt a twinge of pain deep in his chest but ignored it. There’s no time. Just get on with it.

“I meant the guy who gave him a kick in,” he tried again, and this time Adam looked more perplexed than murderous.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I do. Now are you going to tell me?”

Adam shrugged, shifting the heavy, hessian bag into his other hand. “I don’t know anything.”

Robert tried not to let the lie rattle him and just kept staring. “Come on, Adam. Let’s not play games. I know he’ll have talked to you about it.”

“Then you don’t know him that well. He hasn’t said anything."

Robert might have argued again only Adam wasn’t smart enough to lie so convincingly a second time and he had a horrible, sinking feeling that he was telling the truth.

“What, nothing?” he asked, his plan disintegrating in his hands as he spoke.

“Nope. Doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Doesn’t want to talk about it. That sounded like Aaron. He’d never want to discuss it, not when he could bottle it all up instead.

“So you don’t know anything about this guy?” he pressed again, because he didn’t have another option if this plan failed. He couldn’t be defeated on the first hurdle.

He waited, waited for Adam to shake his head or reiterate what he’d said before, but he’d gone strangely mute and he was suddenly fascinated with rearranging the cereal box balancing on top of a bag of oranges.

“Adam?”

“Vic might have said something,” he confessed suddenly, now meeting Robert's gaze, albeit reluctantly. And just like that, he was back to being full steam ahead, his plan stronger than ever now he had glimpsed the smallest spark of light at the end of the tunnel.

“Vic? What, did Aaron talk to her?”

Adam shook his head. “No… Apparently Aaron was brought into the hospital by some guy… Flynn or something like that. He told her some stuff.”

Finn.

Finn had brought Aaron into the hospital.

Finn - You’re amazing, Aaron. Really, I mean that. I don’t know what I’d have done without you – had saved Aaron, stayed long enough to meet Vic, to talk to her. And Aaron had confided in him. Aaron wouldn’t talk to anyone about what had happened but he’d obviously talked to this bloke who Robert had never even heard of.

Must be love, a vicious voice in the back of his head whispered and he forced it down, the jealousy and bitterness like a wildfire inside him, turning everything else to ash.

“Right,” he breathed, the ground beneath his feet tilting a little. “Right, okay. So what did this… guy say?”

Adam, oblivious to Robert’s stunned expression, answered immediately. “Just said he’d found Aaron round the back of some boxing club in Leeds.”

His ears pricked up at that, honing in on the most important detail. “A boxing club? You’re sure?”

Aaron had started out as a boxer, after the drug dealing had gone tits up and he’d been lured in by that pimp. Robert felt sick with guilt, imagining a terrified, vulnerable Aaron running back to Ronnie, feeling as though he had no one else to turn to.  

You did this. That’s what Aaron had said. You did this.

And it seemed he really, truly had.

“Yeah, why?” Adam asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

He shook his head, an attempt to clear his mind enough to speak. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Thanks for telling me.”

He started walking only to have Adam grab his wrist a moment later. “Wait, Robert, what are you going to do?” He looked concerned, though Robert was fairly certain it wasn’t directed at him.

“Nothing. You don’t need to know,” he answered, trying to free himself so he could head home. He had a lot to organise.

“Oi! I do need to know if you’re going after him,” Adam snapped, standing in front of him to block his path. “Jesus, Robert, the guy’s obviously tapped if he managed to do that to Aaron. He’ll snap you like a twig.”

He squared his shoulders immediately, bringing himself up to his full height, and stared Adam down. No one was going to call him weak. No one was going to label him a coward. Not now, not again.

“Better go prepared, then, hadn’t I?” he said with just the right inflection of menace to his words. Adam took a step back, shocked.

“You don’t mean… I mean you’re not gonna get a… gun or anything?”

Robert snorted, more because of the fear in Adam’s eyes than because of the suggestion itself. “A gun? Who do you think I am, Butch Cassidy?” he joked, smirking. “I’m not going to kill him, Adam.”

“Well, you do have form.”

The comment burrowed its way beneath Robert’s skin and he twitched involuntarily. “For threatening someone, not the same thing,” he said, balling his hands into fists at the memory.

Adam just shrugged, an infuriating gesture. “If you say so.”

“And anyway, it’s probably not wise to be talking about form, is it?” Robert ventured, because two could play at that game, and he wasn’t the only one with a murky past he was desperately trying to escape. “I hope Vic’s got the matches under lock and key now.”

It did the job, the remark, ironically enough, like pouring petrol onto the flames. Adam stiffened instantly. “Are you looking for a fight? Cause you’re gonna get one in a minute.”

Robert held his hands up, laughing just enough to ease the tension without sounding mocking. “Just reminding you that we’re none of us perfect, that’s all,” he said, and then dropped the grin in favour of returning to the original topic. “Look, do you want this scumbag to get away with it or not?”

Adam visibly squirmed at the question, his brain battling hard against his conscience, but eventually his shoulders dropped, conceding defeat. “Not,” he answered quietly, and Robert let out a breath.

“Right then,” Robert said, before suddenly thinking of something else. “And don’t tell Aaron, okay?”

Adam raised his eyebrows at that. “I thought you’d want him to know, what with you acting like the big hero all of a sudden.”

“No, I don’t,” he replied, knowing the last thing Aaron would want was to be ‘saved’ by Robert on his white stallion. “He wouldn’t thank me for this so it’s better if he doesn’t know anything about it.”

Adam gave him another questioning look but didn’t press the issue. “All right. Well I’m not sure it’s appropriate to say ‘break a leg’ but…”

Robert thought about it, thought about the black rage curling inside him like smoke, thought about every blow that had been dealt to Aaron, thought about the pain he'd had to endure at the hands of some piece of filth, and looked Adam straight in the eye as he said:

“Trust me, it’s appropriate.”

Chapter Text

Robert’s fingertips were a brand on his arm, his touch scorched into Aaron’s skin like white-hot metal. He wanted to scrape off the tingling sensation with his nails, scour his whole body clean just to be rid of the heavy feel of Robert’s hand holding him steady.

It’s not bullshit, Aaron.

He’d said it with such certainty, such honesty, but Robert had always been a convincing liar. He’d fooled everyone - his whole family had been deceived time and time again. And he’d lied to Aaron, too. There wasn’t a word out of his mouth that could be believec, everything he said was twisted and warped for his own gain. That’s how it had always been, and Aaron wouldn’t let it happen now.

Only it already was. He could feel the words digging underneath his skin, chiselling away at his defences with a stubborn determination which only Robert seemed to possess.

You hate me, I get that.

Aaron looked at the man in the bathroom mirror, more a boy today really, with his wide, glassy eyes and red, swollen lips. He’d worried away most of the surface flesh with his teeth, sitting on the lid of the toilet trying not to be sick. Now he could stand at least, but he felt cold, fingers trembling as they gripped the sink just to stay upright.

I want to hate him, he thought, teeth dragging over his lower lip again, pulling at the torn skin till he felt iron on his tongue. I want to hate him so much.

But he couldn’t. Maybe if his family had disowned him as he’d thought they would, or maybe if Robert had gloated about telling them when they collided today. But instead Aaron had been met with a Robert who looked smaller, less sure of himself. A Robert that Aaron was no less familiar with, despite not having seen him in months.

The man Aaron had seen today was the same one he had met when he was curled up on the tarmac, bruises already blooming violet along his side. When Aaron had turned that night, felt a cold hand against his shoulder, he’d been met with the eyes of someone potentially more lost than him.

No, that wasn’t it. The Robert he had seen today, just like the Robert he had met that night… it wasn’t that he looked lost in himself, but more that he was someone who now had nothing left to lose.

Aaron cupped his hands beneath the cold tap water and drenched his face, gasping as it shocked him out of his thoughts. He needed air, needed to walk until he didn’t feel like this anymore, until Robert’s presence wasn’t lurking at his elbow every waking minute of the day. He just needed to be rid of him for good.

The front door slammed downstairs and Aaron heard the jangle of keys falling into the bowl in the hallway. He crept out onto the landing and leant over the railing, watching as Adam busied himself unpacking the shopping. He zipped up his hoodie and took the stairs two at a time, getting almost to the bottom when Adam suddenly appeared at the door.

“Oh, hey. You all right?” he asked but Aaron didn’t look at him, knowing his cheeks were still blotchy with tears.

“Fine. Just going out,” was all he managed to say, yanking open the door and heading straight down the path without looking back. He could feel Adam’s eyes on him all the way up the street but he didn’t stop, just kept his head down as he made his way out of the village completely. He had no idea where he was going, only that the further away from the village he got, the further away he’d be from Robert.

He followed the road as it wound through the brittle, frosted hills and fields which rose up on either side of him. Tucked away in his memories were snatches of moments like this one, walking through the countryside with Zak's paternal presence by his side, a rabbit or two slung over his shoulder as he explained why poaching wasn’t as bad as people made out. Those times had been such a rarity that he could still recall the heavy, rough hand reaching out to take his own, or the enjoyment he’d got from Zak hosing down his muddied shoes for him once they returned to Wishing Well. They were glimpses of a childhood he might once have had, a childhood which had been barred to him for reasons he had no intention of dredging up now or ever. But it still dropped like a weight inside his chest, knowing that all of this could have been his home from the beginning if things had gone differently.

It started to spit with rain as he reached the top of the hill, the frozen droplets clinging to his hoodie and making the sleeves glisten as he turned around and headed back. He wanted to feel better, but truth be told all he really felt was numb. Numb from the winter air, numb from years of lowering his own expectations, numb from the cut of Robert’s words.

He couldn’t feel a fucking thing.

The road forked in two as he made his way back down, one path leading back to the village where he could just make out smoke unfurling into the darkening sky of late afternoon, and the other a track, slick with mud, leading off into gorse bushes and brambles. The rain was pattering a little heavier against his shoulders and he could barely feel his nose anymore, and yet he still found himself heading in that direction. He couldn’t face going back, not yet anyway. He could stay out a little longer, no doubt catch a cold in the process, and spend the rest of the week feeling sorry for himself. Maybe not the best plan, but he found it an oddly comforting thought nonetheless.

The track narrowed considerably once he’d managed to inch past the sharp whin, each deadly branch pricking his arms through the thin fabric of his hoodie. His boots sunk down into the mud as he clambered over the worst parts and up onto the grassy verge, arms outstretched for balance. He had no idea why he was even carrying on, especially when the rain was now smacking hard against the ground and a sharp wind was cutting right through him. All he knew was that he hadn’t felt this free in months, drenched and frozen as he was, and he wanted to chase that feeling for as long as he possibly could.

Eventually the track ran out and disappeared into a small woodland, pine trees creaking under the weight of water. He stepped into the darkness of the forest and turned, watching as the rain formed a wall in front of him, battering hard against the grass. He stretched out a hand, cupping it a little, and smiled as the water bounced off his palm. The sound of it was so deafening that he couldn’t even hear the short, breathy laugh which escaped from between his chattering teeth, and he laughed again, louder this time, his ear straining to detect anything. All he could hear was the rain and the wind, howling wild beyond the trees, and Aaron moved to the very edge of the woodland, hands curling into fists as he hauled in a breath.

When he yelled, it felt weak and broken in the back of his throat and he cut it off almost immediately. But nothing happened. No one came running, no birds took flight into the air. Other than the elements, it seemed there was no one and nothing here to disturb.

He licked his lips, stole some courage from an unknown source within himself, and yelled again, mouth wide open and his head tipped back in joyous relief. His chest ached with the exertion of it, his ribs still tender, but he didn’t care. He laughed and then yelled again, eyes stinging and nails biting hard into the skin beneath his thumb. He yelled until he couldn’t breathe, yelled until his voice gave out, yelled and yelled until he felt the first salty tear slip into his mouth.

“Fuck you,” he whispered, pressing a hand to his knee as he doubled over, sucking in a breath only to choke on it halfway down. He could still feel Robert’s hand on his arm, warm as sunshine and just as light.

I want you.

He broke on those words alone, a wave crashing up against the rocks as he sunk onto the carpet of pine needles. He’d tried not to feel it, nodded and smiled when others told him of his lucky escape, but despite everything, he still ached for Robert.

Aaron, I’m not leaving.

Lies.

Nothing's changed.

Lies.

I love you.

Lies.

The echo of Robert’s words twisted painfully in his gut, the tears relentless as he pressed a cold and muddied hand over his eyes. The rain continued to lash down hard, drumming the ground so loudly that his sobs were entirely lost. He was grateful for it – feeling the harsh ache in his throat and the salty wetness on his cheeks was enough without hearing the pitying sounds being ripped from him as well. He needed to keep some small modicum of dignity, surely.

He got up on trembling legs, jeans damp and dirty, nails dark from where they’d dug into the mud. He wiped fiercely at his cheeks with a sodden sleeve and then stepped back out into the rain, gasping a little as the first shock of cold hit him full in the face. He ducked his head against the downpour and pressed on back towards the village, his boots struggling to find a footing as the track slowly disintegrated into sludge. By the time he’d reached the fork in the road again, he was shivering so badly he could hear his teeth chattering even above the sound of the rain.

A river was running down the hill, drowning the grassy verges and dragging mud and grass from the overflowing ditches as it passed by his feet. His hood kept falling back off his head from the sharp wind and eventually he gave up battling with it, letting the rain slap against his cheeks as he hurried down towards the village.

And then he stopped, his eyes catching sight of the main street, the short distance between the café and Keeper's. Aaron could almost see them. Robert and himself, just two men in the road, riled up and tense, the broken fragments of a life no longer there’s to share. He could see Robert reaching out, could see himself reeling back from it, barbed words hissed out through his teeth.

You can’t fix this.

He’d said it without thinking. But then… he never thought around Robert, only felt with everything he had, everything he was. Felt that aching pulse of yearning like a metronome inside his chest, deep and steady and even.

You can’t fix this.

Only it hadn’t been what he meant. Not really. It was honest, as honest as he could be given everything that had happened, but it wasn’t the truth. He hadn’t been able to give that up, not even to Robert.

You can’t fix me.

That’s what had twisted inside him, knotted tight and sour in the back of his throat. It burned. The fear of it blazed through him, the knowledge that he was this, would always be this, and nothing Robert or anyone else could do would change that. Forever tainted, forever marred.

Forever broken.

When his fist connected with the wall in front of him, his disorientation meant he didn’t fully register the pain until it bloomed scarlet across his knuckles. It sang up his arm, white hot against his nerve endings, and he had to press his forehead to the cool stone of the café just to keep himself from pitching backwards.

But no matter his initial reason for doing it, the pain helped. It dampened his panic, calmed him, brought him back into the present with such a physical jolt that everything else receded into nothingness. It was what he had wanted, needed even, and he raised his fist again, pressing the tender skin against the hard, unforgiving wall and… slowly… dragged… it… down…

There was no ache this time, only a sharp stinging which had his eyes blinking back shocked, angry tears. He could feel nothing but the gritty cement ingrained within the sticky cuts, the pain demanding and relentless. He gasped a little, the breath leaving him on a wave of relief, of reassurance, and when the corners of his mouth tugged upwards he let them, let himself smile for the first time in weeks.   

“It’s… Aaron, isn’t it?”

He turned instantly, the pain still a little blinding, and kept his hand well hidden behind his back as he met the gaze of the man who had approached him. Aaron vaguely recognised him though he couldn't place from where, Aaron's eyes sliding from his bald head to his quilted jacket before finally resting on the rectangular glasses which seemed to squeeze the sides of his head a little too much to be comfortable.

“What of it?” he bit out, too startled to temper his irritation. 

The man shook his head immediately, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. “No… sorry, I was just… I’m Paddy.” He held out his left hand rather awkwardly for Aaron to shake and he almost did it instinctively, before remembering it was still tucked behind him and for a very good reason. He twisted, head ducked low, and willed the man to just leave.

“Are you all right?” Paddy asked, and Aaron didn’t look up, couldn’t meet his eye, and so he had no forewarning when he felt the gentle pressure of fingertips on his shoulder.

“Get off me!” It ripped out of him, sounding more like a wounded animal’s cry than anything human, and Paddy swayed back a step before closing in again, his height and his girth making Aaron feel enclosed. Trapped.

“Aaron- Aaron, calm down-”

“Get off!” he snarled again, sharper this time as he actively shoved Paddy away with both hands. He hissed a little when the skin across his knuckles was stretched and immediately pushed the injured hand into his hoodie pocket, ignoring how it stung when the damp fabric clung to the cuts.

Paddy put some space between them, his own hands raised in surrender and he blinked rapidly behind his glasses. “It’s all right. I’m a friend. I’m a friend of your mum’s,” he stammered, evidently panicked, and Aaron immediately felt the anger dissipate like fog in sunlight.

He should never have reacted like that, never would have before now, but Paddy had been towering over him, touching him, and it was all too close to how he had felt when he’d met Robert on the street. It was all just too painfully familiar.

“I- I just…” He couldn’t get the words out, his throat clogged, breath rasping, and when he felt Paddy’s hand heavy on his shoulder this time, warmth bleeding through the sodden fabric of his hoodie, he didn’t push away. He couldn’t help himself, couldn't help but lean into the touch just as he brought his other hand round to pull Aaron closer.

“It’s all right,” Paddy murmured again, rubbing gently between Aaron's shoulder blades while the rain battered down on them both. Aaron didn’t care, just listened to the thud of his heart as it slowed. The shame spread molten across his cheeks and eventually he couldn’t take the embarrassed heat colouring his face, wriggling free of Paddy’s embrace and coming to stand a few paces back, his shoulder bumping off the stone wall behind him.

There was water dripping from his lashes and it tasted too much like salt to be rain, but if Paddy noticed he didn’t make any mention of it, instead wiping the lenses of his glasses with a red-tipped finger and then giving an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

“Well… I was gonna head to Bob’s for a sandwich but… why don’t you come back to mine? I’ll put a brew on and you can dry off by the fire.”

It’s a trap.

The alarm rang high and clear inside his head, instantly recognisable. But this wasn't a client he was dealing with, or Ronnie for that matter, and Paddy was so unassuming, so gentle despite his physicality, that Aaron still found himself relaxing. It did nothing, though, for the other warning going off, the one he couldn’t shake no matter how hard he tried.

It’s charity. He’s only offering because he feels sorry for you.

“Thanks, but I should be getting home,” he answered, running a thumb over the slightly crusted blood on his right hand and wincing as he did so. Paddy noticed, glancing down at Aaron’s hoodie pocket, and frowned.

“You can come in for a bit, can’t you?” he pressed, and if Aaron hadn’t been sure before, he definitely was now. Charity, nothing more. “Plus, I’ve got a new packet of chocolate bourbons and I’ll end up scoffing the lot if you don’t help me out.” His smile was genuine if a touch forced but Aaron couldn’t respond, the embarrassment tasting bitter on his tongue now.

He pities you. He saw what you did and now he thinks you need help.

“Maybe another time,” he began, stepping to the side and intending on heading for home when Paddy’s hand came out to land flat against his chest. Aaron stopped immediately, shooting him a dangerous look which Paddy, surprisingly, didn’t flinch at.

“Come back with me and I’ll take a look at that hand, make sure it gets cleaned. Properly,” he added for emphasis, evidently suspecting Aaron couldn’t do the job. Joke was on him though, Aaron had been cleaning his own wounds for years.

Still, he didn’t have anything with him this time and Adam was at Keeper’s. If he started raiding the cupboards for a first aid kit then he’d rouse suspicion and that… well, it wouldn’t end well.

“Fine,” he answered eventually after another few tense seconds of deliberation, weighing up which would be the lesser of two evils. At least this way he could avoid Adam and Vic throwing concerned glances at each other over the kitchen table whenever they thought he wasn’t looking.

He followed Paddy back up towards the main road before veering left, evidently heading for the vet’s practice. When they entered the stone cottage, Aaron immediately felt his shoulders drop, realising he wasn't about to be bombarded with anymore new faces.

“Rhona’s at work and Leo’s at nursery,” Paddy explained as if he could read Aaron’s mind, hanging up his coat on the hook by the door. “My wife and son,” he explained hurriedly when he saw the confusion written on Aaron’s face.

And Aaron saw it now – the toys heaped on one of the kitchen chairs, the childish drawings stuck to the fridge door, the three pairs of wellie boots lined up neatly under the row of coats. Mummy bear, daddy bear, baby bear. This was the life he could have had… if he’d been lucky.

And when have you ever been that? The voice inside his head spat viciously and he pushed it back immediately.

“Come on, I’ll take you through and get the fire going. You can borrow one of my t-shirts if you like, dry that one on the hearth?” Paddy suggested, not waiting for an answer as he ducked his head under the wooden beam and disappeared into another room. Aaron followed, aware that he was creating a puddle along the tiled floor, and heeled off his muddy boots before he reached the living-room carpet.

“Maybe I should just stay in the kitchen,” he said, standing awkwardly in the doorway, his socks squelching horribly as he shifted from one foot to the other. Paddy looked up from where he was kneeling by the fireplace, scrunching newspaper and fitting it between the lichen-covered logs. His eyes went soft and he immediately sat back on his heels.

“Don't think there's any need for that, do you? I'd say it's pretty obvious we’re not the tidiest,” he joked, beaming now as he cast his gaze around the (admittedly) cluttered living-room. There were toys strewn everywhere, magazines scattered over the coffee table, Xbox controllers tangled in front of the TV, plus an impressive scalextric complete with formula one racing cars taking up half the floor. Truth be told, Aaron had never felt so at ease somewhere before.

Meeting Paddy’s eye for just a second, he reluctantly descended the steps onto the carpet and shuffled slowly until he was standing in front of the sofa. Paddy smiled again and gestured for him to sit which he did so, again reluctantly, and rubbed a little at his mud-stained jeans.

“Right, should get you warm in no time,” Paddy said triumphantly once the paper had caught, flames already licking at the wood and coal sparking without warning behind the grate. Aaron watched it, a little entranced, and only nodded as he felt Paddy disappear back into the kitchen.

When he eventually came back, carrying a slightly crumpled grey t-shirt, a bowl of water and a first aid box, Aaron was already much calmer, the warmth from the fire working his muscles loose.

“I’ll leave this hear,” Paddy said, placing the t-shirt on the arm of the sofa, “but I think we should see to that hand first.”

He dragged the coffee table forwards and sat down heavily on it, the legs straining a little under his weight. Aaron focused intently on how they dug into the carpet rather than on the tube of antiseptic or the square of gauze Paddy was now balancing on his knee.

“Will you-?” Paddy cut himself off, gesturing with his eyes to Aaron’s hand which was still firmly tucked inside his hoodie pocket. He knew he couldn’t refuse, not when he’d specifically agreed to come here in order to get his hand sorted, but still the reluctance was there, the fear of others knowing, the shame of being judged.

He could still remember the fierce heat which had flushed his skin the first time a client had seen his torso. He’d made it a condition at first, refusing to go topless, but eventually Ronnie had had a word in his ear and so he’d had no choice. The man had been much older, skinny and agitated, and when Aaron had hauled the t-shirt over his head, he’d been met with a pair of pale eyes gone wide with panic.

“Oh Jesus, trust me to get landed with a freak,” he’d said, sighing as he unbuckled his jeans, evidently not that bothered that he wasn’t already half hard. Aaron had said nothing, just hid his scarlet cheeks and pushed down his boxers, the shame sickeningly heavy in his gut. He’d cut a stripe across his stomach that night but hadn’t felt the better for it, still hearing the man’s voice inside his head.

Freak. Freak. Freak.

But Paddy looked different, a gentle giant with his palms facing upwards, ready to take Aaron’s hand in his own. When he took it out of his pocket, the cuts were a little worse than he’d imagined and he could clearly see the grey dust embedded into the wounds. Paddy sucked in a shallow breath but curled his fingers round Aaron’s wrist before he could pull back.

“Shouldn’t take too long,” he murmured by way of reassurance, flattening out Aaron’s fingers so he could take a closer look.  

When he felt the damp cotton pad swipe across the first knuckle, he bit down on a gasp, every part of him tensing as he watched Paddy remove the dried blood and grit away. He worked silently, keeping one hand on Aaron’s wrist to steady him while the other gently cleaned the wounds. By the time he’d done all four, Aaron could already feel the throbbing lessening and he was able to stretch his hand properly without it stinging too badly. Paddy glanced up, his smile soft and encouraging, and then went back to dabbing a generous amount of antiseptic before placing the gauze on top. Aaron said nothing, couldn’t even muster a simple ‘thank you’ as his eyes followed the bandage Paddy was wrapping once, twice, three times around his hand.

“All done,” he said at last, tying it off neatly and leaning back to admire his handiwork. Aaron did the same, the words stuck in his throat.

“You want to get changed and I’ll stick the kettle on?” Paddy suggested, already getting up and crossing back over to the doorway. Aaron glanced briefly at the t-shirt and shook his head.

“Think I’m drying off just with the fire, thanks,” he said, though it wasn’t true. His hoodie and top were both still sodden, his jeans clinging horribly to his frozen legs. But if he took any of it off then Paddy would see the scars – the ones he had done to himself… and the others. He wouldn’t let anyone else see him like that, not anymore.

You know you can tell me… about any of it.

Only that hadn’t been true either. Robert had taken everything Aaron had shared and thrown it back at him. He’d not leave himself that open, that vulnerable again.

“All right,” was all Paddy said though he sounded dubious. He stood a moment on the steps, eyes fixed on Aaron, and then ducked back out into the kitchen. Aaron heard the kettle click on a few moments later and relaxed back into the sofa. The whole house smelled of fire smoke and hospitals, no doubt a direct result of the antiseptic which was now beginning to soothe Aaron’s knuckles after the initial flare of pain. He shuffled forwards in his seat, resting his elbows on his lap as he closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the heat from the fire and the sound of the kettle rumbling in the background.

It wasn’t home, not in the way Keeper’s had become, not in the way it had felt with Robert’s arms wrapped tight around him, but it was homely. It was a place Aaron could have once imagined living, a place where troubles were kept outside the doors, where tea was on the table at five and where raised voices were a rarity.

It was the kind of home he had always wanted to have as a child, back when he truly believed he could will his fantasies into reality.

“Milk? Sugar?” The question pulled Aaron out of his thoughts and he nodded, sighing.

“Bit of both, thanks,” he replied and a few seconds later Paddy returned carrying a tray with two mugs and a plate of chocolate bourbons, as promised.

“Help yourself,” he said, already stuffing one into his mouth and grabbing a second before he went over to sit in the armchair near the fire. Aaron did as he was told, picking up a biscuit with his un-bandaged hand and nibbling at the corner. The sweetness of it made his teeth ache a little but it was welcome nonetheless. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d eaten anything.

“You look like her,” Paddy said suddenly, leaning over to pick up his tea, and Aaron frowned, confused.

“What… like mum?” he asked, having genuinely never seen any similarity between them.

Paddy nodded. “Not the eyes but… I don’t know, you remind me of her.” He said it softly, almost wistfully, and Aaron felt his curiosity grow.

“You said you two were friends, right?”

“Yeah. Yes, we… we used to be… we went out for a while.”

He snorted, couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t remember hearing anything more absurd.

“Went out as in-?”

“We were a couple,” Paddy interjected, looking just a little petulant. “And yes, before you ask, plenty people told me I was punching well above my weight.”

A couple. His mum had actually chosen a bumbling, country vet to go out with. He kept trying to imagine it but he came away empty each time. How was that even possible?

“No, I mean it’s just… I didn’t expect it. You said you and her were friends so…”

Paddy nodded. “We are… now. Good friends. Came to me a lot when she was worried about you, worried about where you were.”

He dropped his gaze instantly, guilt and shame eroding the smile which had been quirking the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, well, I’m back now,” he muttered, pressing his fingers around the burning mug until he felt the skin begin to burn. He didn’t put it down until his palms were scalded red.

“Aaron-”

“Don’t.” He said it roughly, pushing the warning out through gritted teeth. The question, unspoken, hung suspended between them, waiting to be said aloud. Aaron wouldn’t let it. “Don’t ask me.”

“All right. I… I won’t ask,” Paddy conceded, putting his own tea down again. “But… well, there’s plenty people who’re there for you now. People who would listen. And I might not be family or anything, but in another life I probably would have been so… I mean if you need someone, someone who’s not… just someone who maybe isn’t as close to the whole thing, then you can talk to me.”

He could feel Paddy’s eyes on him, soft and encouraging, and he hated him for it. When it had been Robert, the softness had been an undercurrent, less noticeable. And Robert had pushed him, given him a shove in the right direction until Aaron opened up. But no one else got that, no one else seemed to see what he needed. Only Robert had done that, and then he’d turned it all against him.

“Thanks,” he replied, sucking in his bottom lip and tasting the remnants of sweet tea and salty tears on his tongue. Paddy was shifting restlessly on the sofa, hunched forwards so that his shoulders almost came up to his ears.

“Have you managed to talk to anyone about it?” he asked after a few more stilted seconds, his voice still unbearably soft. “Was… was it Robert you talked to?”

Aaron hated to hear his name said aloud and he flinched, passing it off as a shiver as he shifted closer to the fire. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You must have trusted him-”

“I said it doesn’t matter,” he bit back and Paddy dropped his gaze instantly, cowed by the ferocity of Aaron’s words. He wanted to feel guilty for it, to apologise for being so rude, but in truth all he felt was relief. Talking about… talking about Robert was just too hard right now. 

“Sorry. I do understand… not wanting to go over everything. Break ups are always difficult.”

Break up.

It wasn’t a sufficient enough description for the utter devastation Robert had caused, nor did it accurately reflect the agony which Aaron was still suffering with now. It all sounded so adolescent, so utterly trivial.

“Do you always talk this much?” he snapped, knowing full well he wasn’t actually mad at Paddy. Still, it relieved some of the frustration he was feeling, made his skin itch just a little less.

“Yeah, probably,” Paddy replied, his smile sad now. “Drove your mum mad as well.”

The change in direction helped bring Aaron back to the present and he focused on the sheer confusion he felt over his mum and the village vet having been an item.

“I really can’t see you two together,” he admitted quietly, biting off another chunk of his biscuit and settling back into the cushions behind him. There was something plastic digging into his spine and he removed the offending object, unsurprised to find it was a toy train.

“Neither could she in the end,” Paddy said before glancing up. “See, I know plenty about heartbreak as well.”

And just like that they were back to Robert. It seemed Aaron couldn’t escape him, even when he wasn’t physically here.

“It’s not the same,” he whispered, a few crumbs sliding down his throat the wrong way. He repressed a cough, grabbing for his tea and swallowing one hot mouthful after another until he felt he could breathe again.

“No, probably not,” Paddy conceded. “Hurts though… no matter how it happens.”

“Yeah, but mum never told your biggest secret to the whole village, did she?” Aaron couldn’t help but bite back, the memory of that night still terrifyingly clear in his mind. He had never felt shame or fear like it.

“No, she just cheated on me,” Paddy muttered darkly, and Aaron froze a little, his mind stuttering over the revelation. Not that he was entirely surprised – it did sound quite a lot like his mum.

Paddy, evidently having noticed Aaron’s momentary shock, tamped down some of his previous irritation, shoulders dropping. “I’m not comparing them, Aaron. All I’m saying is that I do understand some of what you’re going through. I know it’s hard moving on from it, especially when the person is still so close by-”

“I saw him today.” He’d said it without meaning to, without thinking it through. But Paddy latched onto the admission for dear life, elated that Aaron had given up something about Robert voluntarily.

“Yeah? And… how did that go?” he asked, his enthusiasm coming through even though he seemed desperate to restrain it.

Aaron repressed the urge to run and instead pressed both his hands around the mug of tea, feeling the burning china seer his fingertips. He didn’t put it down, waited another beat or two until the pain became too much, and then finally placed it back on the table. His palms had flamed scarlet and he pressed them into the cool, damp denim of his jeans, his heart already slowing.

“It was fine,” he lied, keeping his voice level. “He talked, I talked. Nothing came of it.”

Paddy’s eagerness receded almost instantly, instead replaced with resignation. “Look, we don’t… I mean I know we don’t know each other but… you know, sometimes it’s easier… a bit easier to talk to someone not…” He halted, suddenly gesticulating with his hands to somehow emphasise a point he had failed to actually make yet.

“Not?” Aaron pressed, his irritation flaring badly. He should have just gone home, he should never have come here.

“I was miming your inner-circle,” Paddy explained before sighing, defeated, when he realised Aaron had no clue what he was on about. “Never mind. It’s just easier sometimes talking to someone you don’t know, someone you’re not as close to.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “You a shrink now as well as a vet?”

“Well I’ve healed a lot of traumatised hamsters in my time, how different can a human be?” Paddy’s laughter faded quickly and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, bad joke.”

“I don’t need to talk about it,” Aaron answered, deciding not to even acknowledge Paddy’s attempt at humour. “To anyone.”

“Right. No, that’s fine. If you don’t want to then I won’t force it. All I’m saying is-”

“Look, I get it, you’re trying to help,” Aaron cut him off, digging his nails into his thighs. “You think if I talk to you about all of it then I’ll be fixed but I won’t.”

“No, you won’t,” Paddy answered immediately, and it threw him enough that he couldn’t respond. “Aaron, I’m not trying to fix you, and I know that talking about it wouldn’t do that even if I was. All I was saying is that… well, it might be a weight off your shoulders.”

I’m not trying to fix you.

The words circled on a loop inside his head, colliding into each other as they sped up at a dizzying rate.

“I don’t have any weight on my shoulders. And anyway, it’s all done now, I’m not… with him anymore. I’ve moved on.” But he's still with me, no matter how hard I try to get away from him. He's always with me.

“You don’t just get over something like that, and I’m not even talking about Robert here. Going through everything you went through… it leaves emotional scars.”

It’s a trap.

The alarm went off again, louder than before, and the certainty of it slapped him back into the present. He should have seen it coming. He should have known. Why did he always trust people? Why did he never learn?

“And sometimes, when things get on top of you… sometimes it all just gets too much-”

“Stop.” He couldn’t take it, couldn’t take hearing someone pick over his life, trying to make sense of the mess he’d made. He wasn’t a puzzle to be solved and he wouldn’t have some stranger putting two and two together and coming up with five.

“No, all I meant was-”

“That-” Aaron cut in, gesturing to his bandaged hand, “-is nothing to do with you. Nothing. Got it?”

Paddy nodded vigorously. “Definitely. Got it. Absolutely.”

A thought entered Aaron’s head unbidden and he froze. “And don’t go running to my mum telling her either.”

“Does she know?”

He gulped down air and shrugged, keeping his eyes on the carpet. “She knows enough,” he replied, and already knew what was coming next.

“But not everything?”

“What part of ‘this has nothing to do with you’ are you not getting right now?” he countered immediately, feeling a cold shiver crawling down his spine. He needed to leave. He needed to leave now.

“Sorry,” Paddy said, hands clasped together on his lap. He still looked so infuriatingly genuine and it only made everything that much more unbearable. “I just think it might be good for you to talk about it. I mean… you might not have Robert to talk to anymore but-”

“You’re not my shrink, okay?” Aaron snapped, getting to his feet which had turned to lead inside his damp socks. “You’re not anything to me! I don’t even fucking know you.”

He was shaking with anger, crossing the room towards the doorway when he heard Paddy get up.

“Hey, Aaron-”

The hand was on his shoulder again before he knew it, but it felt different this time, less reassuring and more demanding, refusing to let him leave. He’d felt a hand like that on him before. Many times in fact.

“Don’t touch me!” he growled, pulling away immediately and almost knocking into the sidetable, the lamp trembling slightly from his sudden movement.

“O-okay. Sorry. No, you’re… you’re right. I’m sorry,” Paddy stammered, but Aaron was too far gone. He could hear his breaths becoming laboured, turning shallow as he twisted away from Paddy, panic surging through him. He just didn’t want to have anyone looking at him. He didn’t want to be judged.

“I’ve had enough of people touching me,” he whispered, and the words broke up in his mouth as he said them, disintegrating on his tongue.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I… I’m sorry, Aaron,” Paddy murmured, taking a tentative step forwards. Aaron backed into the corner, shying away from him instinctively.

“Just don’t… I just can’t have…”

“I know. I know, that’s all right. You’re all right, Aaron.”

Only he wasn’t. He hadn’t been for so long and no one could see how badly he was hurting. No one understood, no one but the one person who had caused all this pain in the first place.

“I just hate… I hate…” The tears dripped warm onto his cheeks, eyes smarting as he swallowed a sob. When Paddy came towards him, he had no option but to let him, to give in because what else could he do? There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

Paddy’s arms encircled him loosely, warm and engulfing and somehow exactly what Aaron had needed even if he’d never have requested it himself. His nose pressed against Paddy’s shoulder and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let anymore tears fall.

“I hate him,” he forced out, teeth clenched painfully together. He felt Paddy nod.

“I know.”

“Why did he do it? Why did he have to do it?” His throat ached with the sheer exertion of trying not to cry and he swallowed hard, trying to force air back into his lungs.

“You’re all right. You’re all right, Aaron.”

No, I’m not. I don’t think I ever have been. But he couldn’t say that, couldn’t even think it without wanting to collapse, and so he pulled back, rubbing his bandaged hand across his wet cheeks until all trace of what had just happened was erased.

“Let’s sit,” Paddy suggested softly, guiding Aaron back towards the sofa. “Come on, just sit for a minute, catch your breath.”

“I should go.”

“Finish your tea first,” Paddy responded, sitting down heavily into the armchair, his whole body braced as if ready for an imminent attack.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aaron managed to say, picking up his now lukewarm tea and balancing it on his knees.

“That’s all right. We can just sit. I can stick the TV on if you like?”

He shook his head, the thought of listening to some inane programme while he and Paddy awkwardly watched in silence seeming like the least appealing option imaginable.

“Right. Well… then we can just sit, then,” Paddy offered, leaning back a little. “Or we could talk about something else?”

Something else. Well anything was better than them broaching the subject of Robert or his history with self-harm.

“Like what?” he asked.

“Anything you like. The match last night, the weather, hobbies-”

Aaron snorted.

“Sorry. Well, okay, maybe not hobbies then.”

“Not sure my hobbies are anything you want to listen to,” he replied with just a hint of a smirk. Paddy didn’t exactly look like the most adventurous of men. He probably thought a trip to Whitby was exotic.

“You’d be surprised. I’m best friends with Marlon so you can just imagine the nonsense I hear on a daily basis,” Paddy countered, not exactly disproving Aaron’s assumption.

“Yeah, well, the stuff I did wasn’t like… burning a chicken or whatever it is you two talk about.”

“Can’t say he’s ever come to me when he’s burnt a chicken. Apart from anything else he’s a very good cook, not sure he’d burn anything. Maybe singe it a bit if he was having an off day- Sorry,” Paddy cut himself off, realising he’d been rambling. “You can trust me, that’s all I’m trying to say. I know you don’t know me, and I bet you haven’t had many people in your life you could turn to, but you can always, always talk to me. No matter what it is, I won’t ever judge you. And it won’t go any further, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I won’t ever judge you.

He’d had judgement all his life, carried so much shame with him that he felt permanently weakened under the weight of it. He was just so tired, so tired of hiding all the time.

“So you wouldn’t go straight round to tell mum, then?” he asked, knowing full well that if she ever found out anything about his past then she’d never be able to let it go.

“No. Not if you didn’t want me to.” And Aaron believed him. He didn’t want to, God knows every cell in his body was screaming at him to stay on guard, but Paddy sounded so sincere, so kind, that he couldn’t help but accept what he was saying as the truth.

“I don’t even know… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted after a few seconds of racking his brain, searching for something small, something insignificant, that he could tell Paddy without revealing too much.

“Beginning’s always a good place,” Paddy suggested before leaning forwards in his seat. “Did you… I mean were you always in… in that… line of work.”

“You make me sound like a sales assistant,” Aaron said with just a hint of amusement. Paddy ducked his head immediately, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment.

“Sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry. I don’t need it,” Aaron snapped, and then sighed when he realised he’d overreacted. “And no, not always. I got in with the wrong crowd when I left home, and then… it all just went downhill from there.”

He could already feel his skin prickling, feeling himself slipping back into memories he’d long since buried. He’d only ever dragged them out into the light when Robert had asked, and even then he’d done so reluctantly. Maybe it was being so emotionally exhausted, or maybe it was just how soft Paddy’s eyes were, but something in him felt like letting go would be a Hell of a lot easier than fighting on.

“And this wrong crowd, were they-”

“They were drug dealers.” Aaron watched silently as Paddy’s eyes went saucer-wide behind his glasses, mouth forming a perfect O before pressing back into a thin line.

“Right.”

“Thought you said you wouldn’t judge,” Aaron muttered, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“No, I’m not. I’m not, I promise… How did you get in with them, then? What were you… I mean, were you-?”

“I sold gear for them. Delivered packages. Dealt with other suppliers.” It sounded so clinical the way he said it, so utterly devoid of meaning. But back then it had been his life, his whole world reduced to just the McFarlanes and keeping them happy.

“Okay.”

Aaron ignored the hesitation in Paddy’s tone and pressed on, feeling some uncontrollable need to purge himself of some of these memories, as if saying it aloud might banish them from his mind for good.

“I was part of their family,” he explained quietly, running his uninjured hand through his damp hair. “They said they liked me, said they could trust me.”

“And you were with them a while?” Paddy enquired, keeping his voice even, gentle.

Aaron nodded. “Yeah. Three years.”

“But… something happened?”

A few raindrops trickled down the chimney and splashed onto the flames, making them sizzle and spit inside the fireplace. Aaron flinched, dragging his bottom lip in by his teeth and hauling his sleeves over his hands.

“They wanted… they said they wanted to give me more to do. Really bring me into the business. But… I needed to prove myself first. Needed to show them that I could handle it… handle myself.”

He’d only been a kid, scrawny and eager, convincing himself and everyone around him that he was tough. Tough as they came. He had fire in his blood and he wanted to show them… show everyone what he was made of.

“Jay… one of the brothers, he… he said he wanted me to do the job on my own. Said he needed to know that I could represent them, be like them.”

“And what did that mean?” Paddy asked, and he sounded worried now as if he was poking at a hornet’s nest.

“He gave me a knife. A switch blade. He didn’t say anything but I knew… I knew what he meant. I knew what he wanted me to do,” Aaron answered, almost feeling the cold metal in his hand as if he was back there, standing by Jay’s BMW, his silver filling winking at Aaron when he smiled. “I went to do the handover but… the guy wanted more money, said he wasn’t gonna give me the drugs unless he got at least another two grand. And I just… because I knew why Jay had given me that knife, I knew he’d been expecting all this to happen. So I… I threatened him with it, told him to just hand over the drugs. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t do it.”

“Aaron, did you-?”

“No,” he choked out, shaking his head as much to get rid of the images as to emphasise his point. “No, I only showed him the knife… but then his guys showed up out of nowhere, came at me and beat the shit out of me. Took the money and kept the drugs.”

He’d stayed huddled on the ground for what must have been at least half an hour, trembling with fear and pain, eyes tight shut as if he could just pretend none of it was happening. He’d been so naïve back then, so utterly innocent. He’d learnt quickly after that.

“What happened with the… the people you were working for?”

“I think they wanted to kill me. But they wanted the money more, wanted what was theirs. Said I needed to give it back to them in a week or I’d be done. And I didn’t know how to make that kind of money, I didn’t know… I didn’t have anywhere to go.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, tears welling again, and pushed them down. “You know the rest. Everyone knows the rest thanks to-”

“I’m sorry.”

Aaron sniffed hard, unable to look Paddy in the eye despite how genuine he sounded. “It’s fine.”

“No, Aaron, none of that is fine.” He looked up then, surprised by the change in tone, but Paddy still looked soft as ever. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

It was a punch to solar plexus and it winded him momentarily, enough that he needed to pull in a shuddering breath before he could answer. “It’s done now. I’m not… I mean it’s better now. I got out.”

“Because of Robert?” Paddy questioned immediately and Aaron didn’t have the strength to try and steer the conversation away yet again.

“He found me, took me in. Didn’t want anything from me, just gave me a roof over my head and food and… I’d never had someone like that before. And then Ronnie… my… my pimp, he found me again. And I thought Robert would just leave me to it but he packed up all our stuff and we moved. We just upped and left… together.”

He still couldn’t quite believe it had happened, even now. Robert had been so determined, so stubborn in his refusal to leave Aaron behind. How almost desperate he had seemed that they stay together.

You don’t have to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.

And he had. He’d protected him, kept him safe… up until the moment he hadn’t.

“Well I can see why you liked him then,” Paddy said gently, and Aaron felt his eye twitch a little, his body reacting even when his mind refused to acknowledge the obvious.

Paddy seemed to halt, assessing Aaron’s sudden shift in demeanour, and then leaned even further forwards, eyes fixed solely on Aaron. “Or… was it more than that? Did you love him?”

The question plucked a single chord on his heartstrings, reverberating in the vast chasm that was now his chest. He felt it echoing inside him, felt the ache which followed, and wanted to double-over with just the unrelenting pain of it.

He couldn’t even say the word, too cowardly and too broken to confirm what every part of his body knew to be true. Instead he nodded, one sharp downward motion intended to prevent him from saying anything more. He’d already given too much of himself as it was, but he wouldn’t share this. He hadn’t even been able to share it with Robert, far less anyone else. And he never would now. He doubted he’d ever feel that kind of love again, not when he knew what a high price he paid to feel it.

“I won’t say it gets easier, I can tell that’s not what you want to hear. But I know a thing or two about broken hearts and… well, you just have to trust me when I say that this – what you’re feeling now – doesn’t last forever.”

Only, that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because right now Aaron missed him. Missed him to the point where he’d walk over broken glass just to get back to Robert. He missed the warmth beneath the covers when he went to sleep. He missed the tangle of limbs he woke up to in the morning. He missed the ferocity of Robert’s gaze and the heat in his touch and the sweet, sharp, aching kisses they shared. The connection hadn’t been broken, if anything it had only gotten stronger the more time they spent apart, and Aaron was terrified of the day when it faded, when he felt it recede inside him like something withered and decaying. He didn’t want to stop feeling like this, because he was fairly certain what followed would be a Hell of a lot worse.

“I should go.” He stood as he said it, making it clear that he wasn’t going to be guided back this time. Paddy still tried nonetheless.

“You don’t have to. Stay a while, I could put some tea on… Fish fingers do you?”

He almost smiled at the suggestion, imagining the two of them huddled round the small kitchen table, cutting into slightly charred fish fingers and chips as they pretended to be interested in last night’s football.

“No. I should… I need to get back.”

There was a beat of silence before Paddy relinquished, thankfully. “All right, well… you know where I am if you need a chat.”

Aaron nodded. “Thanks for the biscuits,” he said, pausing on the steps leading back into the kitchen. “And… for the other stuff, too. Listening.”

“It’s all right. Beats sticking my hand up a cow’s bum.” Paddy laughed loud and sudden, his eyes bright with amusement before his smile faltered when he didn’t get the desired reponse. “Sorry, another little vet joke there for you.”

Aaron gave him an unimpressed look as he shoved his damp feet back into his disgustingly wet boots. “Don’t go into stand up, will you?” he said, the sarcasm just on the right side of joking. He flashed Paddy a hint of a smile just to make sure he got it.

“Roger that,” Paddy answered, smiling himself before his expression slipped back into something altogether more serious. “You know where I am though. I’ll always do my best to help in whatever way I can.”

He meant it too, Aaron could see that. And it helped, he even thought he might take him up on it, if or when things got too much. And they invariably would, especially if Robert sought him out again like he had today.

“Thanks,” he said, pulling up his hood and letting Paddy lead him to the front door. It was still raining hard and Aaron only managed one quick wave by way of a goodbye before he started running back down the street towards Keeper’s. He turned though once he reached the gate, squinting through the rain, just in time to see Paddy disappearing back through the rosy glow of the open doorway.

Aaron fought the urge to race back before it closed shut again. It wasn’t his home, no matter how much he wished it was.

Chapter Text

He could barely see the building through his windscreen, the rain smacking so hard against the glass that Robert was sure it would shatter under the sheer force. He’d been sitting in his car for the past fifteen minutes, staring at the concrete brickwork and graffiti’d front door and the metal bars over the windows. It looked as close to a prison as Robert had ever seen and it made him shudder to think that Aaron had once called this place home.

His phone was lying on the passenger seat where he’d thrown it right before driving out of the village. He scrolled through the three texts he’d been sent that morning, pouring over their contents for some kind of clue of the reception he would receive once he stepped inside. Instead, all he found were the starkest details about Ronnie Keller and his enterprise. It was a brief history of a life long shackled to crime and violence, from the tender age of eight when he bottled his drunken stepfather, right up until a few years ago when he got out of prison for GBH. The man was a thug, made the Dingles look positively civilised, but he was also sharp. He’d managed to stay off the police’s radar for the last two years, kept his nose technically clean despite running three illegal businesses - a protection racket, bare-knuckle boxing… and prostitution.

Robert glanced at his Rolex, sliding his thumb over the cool metal as he pushed open his driver’s door and stepped out. The rain drowned him in seconds and he hurried over the deserted street, nerves prickling at his skin as he yanked on the door handle and slipped inside.

The hallway was dim and smelt of dust and testosterone, the walls a dirty shade of cream and the tiled floor the colour of terracotta. Robert wondered if that was to disguise any blood which was spilt along the corridor. He quickly shook the idea from his mind - that line of thinking wasn’t going to get him very far.

He could hear the steady thud of fists hitting something heavy and followed the sound, glancing to his left and right as he felt the walls begin to narrow around him. His palms were hot and slick and he wiped them repeatedly against his thighs, swallowing around the lump that refused to go down. The door ahead was open and he could already see two men sparring in a a makeshift ring, hammering blow after blow as they circled each other. Their fists were taped up and sweat glistened across their foreheads and along their bare shoulders, almost sparkling underneath the ceiling lights. Robert watched them for a moment, taking in their cold, focused stares and tensed muscles and wondered if it had really been a good call to come here when he was obviously so out of his depth.

In the end, he didn’t have a chance to dwell on it as the entrance of the boxing club was suddenly blocked by a leaner, older man, his arms folded across his chest.

“Can I help you?” he asked, voice rough as sandpaper. Robert had to take a second just to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I hope so. I’m looking for Ronnie,” he replied, already glancing over the man’s shoulder where the two boxers had ceased their match to come and stand by the ropes, watching the conversation suspiciously. Robert really didn’t fancy his chances against them.

The man in front of him slid his gaze up Robert’s body before meeting his eye. “What’s it about?”

“Just a bit of business I want to put his way,” he answered smoothly.

The man gave him another doubtful look and then turned away from him, walking round the ring and towards a door in the back corner of the club. Robert watched him as he knocked and disappeared inside, keeping his eyes focused on what he presumed was Ronnie’s office and not on the two boxers still eyeing him up from the ring. When the man eventually came back out again his jaw was set in a harsh, angular line and he beckoned Robert over with one sharp flick of his finger. Robert went without protest, glad to know he wasn’t being kicked out just yet. That would have seriously fucked up his plan.

When he reached the office door the man, who Robert now assumed was a trainer, grabbed his elbow and bent his head just a little to hiss: “Don’t piss him off. I don’t fancy mopping your brains up off the floor.”

Robert watched him stalk off back in the direction of the ring, already yelling instructions to the two boxers who fell back into sparring immediately, and gulped down the fear which tasted a lot like bile in his throat. He knocked once against the slightly open door and then entered without further delay.

It was as though all the air had been sucked from the confined space. Smoke hung suspended below the ceiling and Robert forced himself not to cough, instead focusing his attention on the silhouette of a man sitting behind the desk to his right. Ronnie’s face flickered amber where the cigarette glowed from between his lips, illuminating very little other than the sharp rise of his cheekbones and the puckered, silver scar just above his dark eyebrow. Robert wondered momentarily how he’d been injured and then decided it was probably better if he didn’t know. He already had far too much unsavoury information on the man as it was, he didn’t need anymore to add to his collection.

“So… I’m guessing you’re not here for boxing lessons.” Ronnie’s voice was coarse and dismissive, dark eyes flicking upwards to meet Robert’s gaze and fixing him immediately with an unnervingly cold stare. He took another drag from him cigarette, one continuous stream of smoke uncoiling from his nostrils as he breathed out heavily and pushed the stub into the ashtray by his hand. Every movement was jagged and forceful, an intense aggression to the most mundane of actions which had fear tightening in Robert’s chest. He knew this man was dangerous, had known it for a long time, ever since he saw Aaron’s face when they had returned to find graffiti dripping red across the back wall. But having some nondescript image in your head, more an outline of a person really, and then coming face-to-face with the flesh and blood version were two very different things. It unsettled Robert to know how much the man was affecting him already.

Robert rolled his shoulders a little and lifted the corner of his mouth into a tense smirk. “No, can’t say I’ve ever fancied getting in the ring myself. Not that there aren’t plenty people who’d love to take a swing at me, mind.”

Judging by the reaction, Ronnie evidently didn’t have even an ounce of humour in him. Instead, he quirked an eyebrow and pulled another cigarette from behind his ear. “I can see why,” he muttered as he brought the lighter closer towards him and lit the end, the smell of tobacco hitting Robert stronger now. Ronnie took a few easy puffs, seeming almost nonchalant as he sat reclining in his chair. Perhaps that was why Robert almost choked on his own saliva when the man suddenly kicked back suddenly, chair legs scraping across the wooden floor, and stood to his full height, meeting Robert inch for inch.

“So you’re here for something else, then?” he continued, sounding every bit as calm as he had done before. But there was something in his eyes now, something that had been absent seconds earlier, something which had the hairs on the back of Robert’s neck rising.

He cleared his throat, hoping he hadn’t lost the ability to speak while he was forcing himself not to bolt for the door. “I am,” he tried, keeping his tone as even as he could manage given that Ronnie was making his way round to the front of the desk. Robert waited until he had stopped moving before he continued. “I heard that you provide certain… services. Like I said, there’s plenty who’d love nothing more than to knock me down and I need to know someone’s going to be stepping in before they get their wish.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Ronnie asked, leaning back against the desk and folding his arms across his chest defensively. Robert ignored the sickening thud of his pulse in the base of his throat.

“Someone told me you provide protection-”

“Who?” Ronnie immediately interrupted, now pushing himself into a completely upright position again. Up close, Robert found that the man’s teeth were yellow and chipped, with a few missing towards the back. He also had a very small scar just beneath his bottom lip, the sort which usually occurred when your front teeth went straight through. He repressed a shudder and forced himself to say something.

“A friend of a friend,” he explained and then squared his shoulders a little, adopting a slightly more impatient expression. “Look, if they got it wrong then just tell me. I need someone as soon as possible and I’d rather not have my time wasted.” He hadn’t planned on being so abrupt - somehow it felt a lot like prodding at a hornet’s nest with a red hot poker - but being professionally courteous hadn’t been doing him any favours.

Ronnie looked ready to smack him in the jaw and so Robert pulled the ace up his sleeve and slid the cuff of his jacket back from his wrist just enough to reveal the Rolex beneath. He checked the time, fixed the silver fastening a little just to make sure Ronnie had seen the make and model clearly, and then let the sleeve fall back into place. When he glanced up this time, the man had calmed.

Thank God.