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day's end

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Sliding into bed at the end of a day like the one he's had is pure, fucking bliss. The sheets are cold and soft around his legs, the mattress takes his weight like a dream and his pillow smells of Robert. It's perfect.

Well. Almost.

“So she keeps going on and on about what Jimmy would say and how Jimmy would have done it,” Robert's saying between vigorous brushes of his teeth. “As if she ever listens to a word he says when he's actually there!”

Aaron allows himself a moment to roll his eyes to himself so hard he might sprain something, then sighs and turns over so he can see Robert in the bathroom doorway.

Robert's in nothing but his underwear, toothbrush in hand. It might be doing something for Aaron if he didn't have toothpaste down his chin, a smattering of it on his chest. As it is, he manages to hum supportively and has to fight to keep his eyes open.

“Jimmy's the one who suggested it! Which she knows,” Robert shoves the brush back into his mouth, a brief reprieve. “She wouldn't know a good deal if it smacked her on the arse,” he mumbles around it, very close to actually foaming at the mouth.

Aaron does shut his eyes then, because it's disgusting. “Just get Jimmy to ring her,” he says.

“I've tried,” Robert says, voice fading as he goes back into the en suite. There's a blast of water, gargle, spit. If he has a piss with the door open again Aaron is actually going to smother himself.

Even through closed eyelids he can tell when the room goes dark, Robert shutting the doors, shuffling around to his side of the bed.

He smells minty fresh when he climbs in behind Aaron, so Aaron turns over, rolls into Robert's body for a cuddle.

“I just wish she'd listen to me,” Robert says, a big hand rubbing up Aaron's back. “I know what I'm doing.”

Aaron hums again, feeling heavy. “Just do it anyway. She's an idiot.”

He feels Robert nod, a gentle hand through his hair. “Thanks for letting me moan at you,” Robert says, voice a quiet murmur now they're pressed together.

Aaron shrugs, tucking his face into Robert's neck, tangling their legs together. “What are husbands for?”

He thinks Robert presses a kiss to his temple but he's already sliding into sleep.



Aaron's just settled himself in the armchair, beer in hand, when Liv parks herself in front of him.

“Nope. Not a chance,” she says, pointing over to the sofa. “Move.”

“What? Why?”

“I'm not sitting next him all night, muttering under his breath about historical inaccuracies. Not happening. Move it.”

She's got her hands on her hips, face like thunder. She's also got a point, Robert's a nightmare during films. He grins up at her, really grinds his arse into the seat. “But it's so comfy here.”

Robert interrupts just as Liv opens her mouth. “While you two argue over who gets to sit furthest away from me, does anyone want anything else?”

He's stood at the fridge, door open, hair a total state from the fifteen minutes they spent snogging up against the sink while Liv got changed. Aaron almost feels bad about not wanting to sit with him.

“I'll make you a deal,” he tells Liv. “You sort the popcorn, and I'll take Robert duty. But,” he adds when her face lights up. “You can't say anything about my methods if he needs shutting up.”

She retches dramatically. “Gross. Beyond gross,” thinks about it, ”Deal.” They shake on it.

Aaron resettles himself on the sofa while Liv starts the microwave going.

“Planning on shutting me up are you?” Robert asks,  he's got a bag of crisps between his teeth which he drops in Aaron's lap, lays everything else out on the coffee table.

Aaron curls a fist in the t shirt Robert's wearing. It's threadbare and too tight, so probably Aaron's once upon a time. “Maybe,” he says, draws him in for a kiss. Keeps it going for long enough that Liv pelts them with popcorn on her way back to her seat.

“Impressionable, young eyes here,” she reminds them, “Cannot unsee.”

Robert sits back, he's smirking so Aaron tries his best to look less dazed than he feels.

“What are we watching anyway?” Robert asks.

“Nothing you'll enjoy,” Liv tells him, keeping all the popcorn for herself.

It's worse if they tell him, he'll have looked up all the continuity errors before the opening credits end. It's better this way.

Liv nudges the remote across the coffee table with her foot. Aaron presses play, tucks himself against Robert's side and helps himself to a crisp. There's always a chance Robert'll go to bed early if Aaron chews loudly enough, it's worth a shot.



It's easier to shower before bed. It means he gets to slide between the sheets all warm and scrubbed pink and it also means he gets to stay in bed longer in the morning. Win win.

Robert tends to do it in the morning, in and out; takes ages to shave and faff about with his hair.

So it's late on a Tuesday and Aaron's in the shower. The ridiculous walk-in monsoon thing Robert had them install, he's soaped and mostly clean, rinsing out his hair when Robert slips through the door.

“You alright?” Aaron asks over the water.

Robert doesn't say anything, too busy stripping his shirt down his arms, kicking free from his trousers. Oh. It's like that.

He gets an armful of wet, golden skin when Robert walks right under the spray, presses straight up against him, arms slung over Aaron's shoulders.

Aaron laughs. “You alright?” he asks again, joking now.

Robert grins at him. “Got bored,” he says, mouthing at Aaron's collarbone.

It's hot under the water, steam rising. Having Robert sliding slippery against his chest isn't helping Aaron breathe.

They kiss for long minutes, hands on backs, relearning cuts of muscle. There's shower water between their lips, enough to have them gasping. Aaron moves to lean back against the wall, tile a cold shock against his arse.

“What do you want?” he asks, always asks, because he likes to hear Robert say it, likes him to ask.

Robert shakes his hair out of his eyes, glances down between them at the place where his dick is riding the crease of Aaron's hip, Aaron snugged up along side. “This,” he says, “Just this.”

They keep kissing, Aaron letting Robert do most of the work, content to be held up against the wall while Robert rubs them off together.

When Robert finally gives in, slips a hand down to wrap around both of their dicks, strokes them together until Aaron's head is swimming, he's glad of the wall at his back, knees gone weak.

They don't come at the same time but it's a close thing, evidence washed away as soon as it hits skin.

Aaron probably needs to wash again now.

He's going to sleep like the dead tonight.



Aaron parked himself on the counter top twenty minutes ago. There's an empty cup of tea by his hip now and he could do with a piss but there's no way he's moving.

Because this is gold.

Robert's wearing an apron, he's got flour in his hair and and a really suspicious looking red stain on his collar.

He's currently overseeing Liv delicately whip something into egg whites. Aaron has no clue what's going on but it smells amazing.

“Careful,” Robert says, hands on hips, wincing. “You don't want to knock the air out.”

Liv huffs. “I'm not. If I pour it any slower time will go backwards.”

Aaron hides a snort behind his hand, tries to look interested when Robert whips his head round.

Robert points to another bowl. “Right, now fold that in. Slowly,” he hands Liv a spoon, hovers over her nervously. It's hilarious.

It takes another fifteen minutes until whatever it is goes into the oven. By that time Liv looks mostly like this was all a horrible mistake and Robert has chocolate on his face.

“This had better work,” Liv says, dusting herself off.

Robert's washing up at the sink. “It will.”

“What if he thinks it's too much?”

Robert sighs, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder and turning to face her. “He wont. Blokes love cake. Don't we?” he looks to Aaron.

Aaron nods quickly. “Course. Why are you making him a cake again though?” Aaron thought they were done for good last time.

Liv rolls her eyes. “It's his birthday,” she manages to make it sound as though Aaron should have known that, even though Aaron actively dislikes Will on principle alone after the last break up.

Robert comes over to put his hands on her shoulders. “He'll love it. Now go and get ready, I can take it from here.”

“You wont forget to take it out?” she asks, brow creased like they can't be trusted.

“Scouts honour.”

“You were not a boy scout,” she tells him, but she heads upstairs anyway.

Robert makes to go back to the sink, the whole kitchen looks like a crime scene, but Aaron reaches out, grabs hold of his apron strings and pulls until Robert stumbles backwards between his knees.

Aaron takes full advantage of the extra height the counter top gives him, slides his arms around Robert's shoulders to spread his palms across his chest, Robert sagging back against him.

“I didn't know you could bake,” Aaron says, dragging his nose up into the hair behind Robert's ear. He smells like cocoa and sugar. Aaron's mouth is actually watering.

Robert tips his head to the side, gives Aaron more space to work lips and teeth up his neck. “I made you tiramisu once,” he says.

Aaron scrapes his teeth against the hinge of Robert's jaw, hums in agreement. That's true, it had ended in a bit of a mess though.

“How long until you have to take that out?”

Robert checks his watch. “About six minutes.”

Long enough. Aaron spins him round, gets his hands on that jawline, pulls him down for a proper kiss.

He tastes like the kitchen smells, sweet and decadent, heady. Aaron slicks their tongues together, holds Robert close between his knees.

It's something they do a lot these days, stolen kisses when Liv's out of earshot. It can make it hotter, depending, trying to keep quiet.

Something about it is definitely working for Aaron. He's hard in his jeans, not enough friction against Robert's belly to do anything other than make it throb with his pulse.

The kiss is turning wetter, deeper, Robert angling his head to get in tighter. Aaron can feel his hands skidding over Robert's back, can't seem to settle, mind racing.

Robert tears away suddenly, leaves Aaron blinking at the empty space in front of him, hands closing on nothing.

“Eh?” he asks, mindlessly.

Robert's already got the oven open, wafting hot air away from his face. “Sorry, sorry. She'll kill me if anything happens to this!”

When he turns he's got some sort of tiny chocolate cake held gingerly between two tea towels. “Make yourself useful, the cooling rack thing's in the cupboard under you.”

Aaron has to take a couple of deep breaths before he can move, get his blood flowing north again.

It's alright. They've got all night.



They haven't spoken in almost an hour. Aaron only knows that because he's on his phone, can see the minutes ticking by.

There's a crinkle of paper; Robert turning another page, the quiet noise he makes when something's funny.

Aaron sinks deeper into his end of the sofa. Worms his feet further under Robert's thigh to keep his toes warm.

Robert's got longer legs than him, one stretched along the sofa back, foot under Aaron's arm, the other splayed out, foot on the floor. It gives Aaron an excellent view of his spread thighs any time he fancies looking up.

It's Sunday night. Nothing on the telly, Liv upstairs. They've been settled on the sofa together all evening. Robert's completely incapable of putting a good book down so Aaron's alternating between fiddling on his phone and watching him read. It's none of anyone's business which he's doing at any given moment.

It's nice, he thinks, the quiet. That they don't need to talk anymore to be with each other.

He'd quite happily sit in silence with Robert for the rest of his life.

Robert glances up, smiles. “Alright?” he asks, soft.

Aaron nods, rubs a hand up Robert's shin, feels the warmth of him. “Alright.”

They'll go up to bed soon, when Robert's done, but for now, this is nice.