i promise this was meant to be short. also on ao3 here

Robert hiccuped out a sob as Aaron managed to get him sat in the bath, the sound making Aaron’s heart ache in his chest. He’d seen Robert in nearly every state, in the decade or so that he’d known the other man, but this genuine terror and sorrow was new. Robert was shaking, and all Aaron could think to do was get him into a hot bath. 

“You’re okay,” Aaron reassured, kneeling at the side of the bath, his own hoodie tossed aside, leaving him in a thin t-shirt. It was cold, the heating of his flat having not quite kicked in yet, but Aaron didn’t care. 

Robert’s body was battered, and bruised, mottled purple and black marks in the shape of a boot stamped into his ribs. His face was worse, though, a split lip and a blooming black eye the marks of just how badly everything had gone that day. He looked so genuinely devastated, eyes swollen and red from the way he’d been hysterically crying. 

“You’re okay,” Aaron promised, hands gentle as he brushed Robert’s hair back off his forehead, blond matted with blood. “Can I take care of you?” 

Robert looked like he wanted to say no.

“Let me take care of you,” Aaron pleaded, because it was the only thing he knew how to do right - use his hands that had seen so much violence to take care of Robert, put his broken pieces back together. He sometimes thought it was maybe the only thing he’d done right in his entire life, the way he could soothe Robert Sugden’s broken heart, the thing he’d been put on earth to do.

“Okay,” Robert relented, speaking tugging at his split lip, Robert wincing. 

Aaron nodded, reaching for his shower gel, and the loofah he kept in the shower - habits he’d picked up the first time they’d been together, the shower gel the very same one he’d stolen from Robert and taken to prison. He hoped Robert would notice - would see that even after six years, Robert’s presence had lingered heavily in Aaron’s life, Aaron never willing to let go of the scant few connections he had to the love of his life.

Robert’s body tensed, under Aaron’s touch, a reminder of just how much the man in question had been through in the six years he’d been in prison, things Aaron would have to grit his teeth and calmly learn about in the weeks and months to come, all while quietly plotting vengeance on the people who’d taught Robert’s body violence, and pain. 

“You’re okay,” Aaron soothed, gentle as he dragged the loofah across Robert’s skin. “It’s me, Robert - it’s Aaron. I’ll take care of you,” he reassured. He did his best to be thorough, but quick, knowing that everything felt overwhelming for Robert, there and then. 

Robert slowly relaxed, and whether it was the hot water, or some magical healing power Aaron didn’t know his hands had, he wasn’t sure, but it was a relief to see the tension bleed from Robert’s body, the water of the bath turning soapy. 

“Can I wash your hair?” Aaron asked, knowing to ask, now. It was never a question before, Robert preening under Aaron’s touch when he’d offer to wash Robert’s hair in the shower, but things were different now. 

Robert looked at him with wide, sad eyes, and nodded. “Just - don’t touch the back of my head?” he asked, and winced, embarrassed by his own admission. There was a story there, Aaron knew, and one he’d push about later, but for now, he just nodded. 

“Of course,” Aaron promised, reaching for his own shampoo. “Close your eyes, for a minute? I’ll be quick,” he knew asking a terrified Robert to close his eyes was a risk, but he didn’t want to blind him with shampoo either. “Hold onto me,” he suggested, at Robert’s worried look. “You’ll be able to feel what I’m doing.” 

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thank you my dear! also on ao3 here as once again. it got long.

A gentle touch to his elbow brought Robert back to himself, Robert twisting to find a grinning Aaron standing beside him. The noise of the pub was overwhelming, but Aaron’s headjerk towards the door didn’t need words to be explained. Robert nodded, following his boyfriend out the door, and into the cool April evening.

The weather had been good, lately, spring days stretching long over the rolling hills of the Yorkshire Dales, but the evenings remained chilly. It was Robert’s favourite time of year, that perfect in between of spring, and summer, the best of each season. 

“You looked a little overwhelmed,” Aaron hummed, settling on one of the picnic tables in front of the Woolpack. “I thought you might want a breather.” 

Robert offered him a grateful smile. Aaron had always been the best, most supportive person he knew, but he had been spectacular these last few months, dealing with Robert’s PTSD diagnosis in a way Robert would be grateful for forever. Aaron graciously dealt with the interrupted sleep, the night terrors, the panic attacks - he stood at the bathroom door each morning, croakily reminding Robert he needed to take his medication with water and not swallow it dry (a bad habit, Robert knew) and he always, always seemed to know when Robert needed a break from something, whether it was work, or the Woolie.

“It’s been really lovely,” Robert offered, thinking of the banner hung over the bar, wishing him a happy 40th birthday, the pub bursting at the seams with their friends, family. A year ago, he celebrated his birthday in prison, alone, praying to a God he didn’t believe him that his appeal would go through, and he’d get out. Now, it was a year later, and he was back living in Emmerdale, and he was with Aaron, and everything wasn’t perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Robert was clawing back that beautiful life he’d lost, six years previous, and he was grateful for it.

He’d never been one for putting much stock in big birthdays, but he couldn’t deny it felt good to be starting off his forties in a much better place. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not also overwhelming,” Aaron pointed out, moving so he was sitting astride the bench, facing Robert. “It’s okay to need a minute, sometimes.” 

Robert reached out, tangling his fingers with Aaron’s. He could do that now, whenever he wanted to. It was something he’d never take for granted again - the beautiful normalcy of holding his boyfriend’s hand outside their local pub. “I definitely needed a minute,” he agreed. “How did you know?” 

Aaron grinned, a happy, genuinely carefree expression fixed on his face. “I know you, don’t I? I can read you like a book,” he gave Robert’s hand a squeeze. “Anyway - it’s my job to look after you, and I’d be a pretty shit boyfriend if I didn’t save you from Mandy’s pitch about getting a manzillian.” 

Robert snorted, shaking his head. “As if I need Paddy’s wife seeing my arsehole,” he pulled a face, enjoying the way the thought made Aaron faux gag. “That’s a privilege only you get.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “Romantic,” he teased. “Only been back together five minutes and you’re telling me exclusive rights to seeing your arsehole is as good as it gets.” 

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thank you! something light, hope you like it x

“There you go,” Aaron says, walking over to the sofa with two hot mugs of tea in his hands. Over to where Robert is sprawled out like a Victorian woman who has painstakingly draped herself over a settee, ready to be painted and hung in an ornate and gilded home. A picture of melodrama, with his arm slung over his face, eyes shut in agony.

Aaron bites down on his lip harshly to try and keep the corners of his mouth from turning up too far, even though Robert is too busy feeling sorry for himself to notice it anyway.

He puts the mugs down on the coffee table and stares pointedly at the abysmally small space left on the couch. Robert just sighs deeply with his eyes still covered by his forearm and Aaron lightly kicks his shin, gaining him a deeply wounded and affronted “ow!” from his boyfriend, and a glare.

Aaron rolls his eyes. “You hurt your back, not your leg.”

Robert looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “Not until you just did that! Talk about kicking a man while he’s down, literally.”

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this got out of control long so it’s also on ao3 here!

There was something poetic, Robert decided, about his life ending in the same place it had begun: on Emmerdale Farm. If this was how his story went, he couldn’t fault the universe for having managed to bring it full circle – he wasn’t sure if whoever was going to write his obituary would appreciate how wonderfully grandiose it all was, but he hoped they would. Maybe he could have a headstone like his father’s, the wording edited to reflect the kind of man Robert was – an okay man, at rest in the good earth.

Rest sounded nice. He was so, so tired.

“Robert – Rob, you need to stay with me,” a slap to his cheek roused Robert from his dreamy state. Robert blinked, confused, Aaron’s face mere inches from his own. “There you are,” Aaron had been crying, that much was obvious, his eyes red-rimmed, tears pouring down his cheeks. It’s not like Robert liked seeing Aaron cry, but there was a part of him that appreciated the reminder that Aaron did still care about him.

“Here I am,” Robert strained with the effort of speaking. “Why – why are you still here?”

Aaron gave him a wild-eyed look. “Why – are you serious, Robert? I’m trying to save your life, here,” he gestured, his hoodie pressed against the gaping wound in Robert’s side, the black material soaked heavy with blood. Robert was not enjoying having been stabbed, he’d tell you that much.

“He’s going to come back,” Robert glanced toward the barn door. “Aaron, you have to go – you have to save yourself.”

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thank you amy!! <3 hope you enjoy :)

Given how big and hectic most weddings are - certainly in this village - Robert has learnt that there’s an important exception: any wedding between himself and Aaron always has a moment of quiet.

He’s gotten married to him enough times by now; the term expert is more than earned.

And here they are. Third time’s the charm.

As usual Aaron’s family wanted to get involved, bringing along their usual dose of chaos and upon seeing Robert shrink as a result Aaron put his foot down and kept them at a distance. No involvement from Chas in the wedding planning, no joint stag do at the hands of Cain.

More than ever Robert needed their wedding to be about them.

The official part was starting soon, but still long enough away that Robert could get himself all worked up about the whole thing.

The mattress dips where Aaron comes to sit next to him.

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“I told you I love you. What’s the big deal?”
[same age teenagers au. fic meme prompts. @ao3]

“You what?” Robert says, poleaxed. 

They’d been having a nice afternoon, sorta. Andy and Katie had buggered off into town anyway, so Robert didn’t have to watch them all over each other, and he’d helped out at the farm this morning so even his dad wasn’t rolling his eyes too hard when he’d told him to get gone, not be too late home.

He’d found Aaron at the garage, head inside some bloke’s Volvo. Normally Robert’d be the one doing the actual work while Aaron loomed and sulked and made them more brews than anyone should drink in a single shift, but it was his sole day off this week so he’d just sat on the bonnet of an old truck waiting for an oil change and threw pieces of gravel at Aaron’s back until he gave up trying to ignore him and Debbie sent him on a long lunch with a put out sigh.

They’d picked up sandwiches and cold cans of Lemon Fanta from the café, wandering down the road ‘til they found a piece of wall worth loitering on, and Aaron had shrugged off the top half of his overalls, tying the arms ‘round his waist and showing off the absolute eye-sort of a t-shirt he’d picked up on his last lads trip to Ibiza.

Pretty much the same as most afternoons.

Until Robert had done a truly impeccable impersonation of Pearl and the feisty Pomeranian outside the pub yesterday, and Aaron has snorted pop up his nose laughing too hard, still catching his breath as he said, “God, you’re such a prick, I love you,” casually, like they said that stuff all the time, and Robert’s brain had stuttered to a total stop.

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i went with number 4!

“Yes there’s one bed. No, I won’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“One weekend. Two nights.” 

Aaron pulls this face but keeps typing. “I know how a weekend works.” He says, just to be his difficult annoying self.

“I’ll make it up to you.” Robert begs. He’s really not short of doing that right now.

Aaron finally looks up at him. Robert feels a little weak against it but he can’t get into that right now. He can’t mix real feelings with the ones he’s going to be asking Aaron to fake. 

“You have no one else to ask.”

“No.” Robert is adamant. “Please, I’ve already mentioned you to Vic before so she knows –”

“You’ve mentioned me to your sister?” Aaron says and he makes it a thing. Robert squirms against it a little. Yes, Aaron’s name has come up. It’s not a big deal. They work together. Aaron’s fit. He’s also gay. He’s also someone Robert has probably been a little crazy over for a few years but again, it doesn’t matter.

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an alternative take on robert storming the wedding!

Robert isn’t sure what he expected but it definitely wasn’t this. Aaron’s standing in front of him, and he looks so angry that Robert can almost feel it radiate off of him. He’s wearing a beige suit. He faintly remembers Aaron saying weirdos wear beige to weddings. It makes him want to smile. He doesn’t think it’s the time.

“You can’t be here.” Aaron’s saying. He might as well be in Leeds. The space between them is comical.

Robert nods. “Why, ‘cause you’re getting married?” He cocks his head to the side and then leans against the bridge. “Is it the happiest day of your life Aaron?”

Aaron looks like he’s just been punched in the gut. He doubles over a little and there’s tears in his eyes that threaten to fall before he wipes them away.

“You’re sick, do you know that?”

Robert stands up a little. “I’m asking you a question.” He says.

Aaron breathes out quickly and decides to just not answer the question at all. Instead he shakes his head and decides to walk away like he can, like it’s something they do easily.

“It should be the happiest day of your life.” Robert tells Aaron.

He thinks about their wedding, the second one that was free of this impending sense of doom. He thinks about kissing in front of the whole village, confetti found in their hair later that night as they rolled around in bed and clung to each other. They laughed so much that day. It was perfect.

Aaron gulps hard and stops walking. He turns and looks right at Robert. “And you want to ruin that, do you?”

Robert walks towards Aaron, he takes confident steps like he isn’t shaking inside. “I want to know –”

“And I wanted to be married to you, eighty odd remember? I wanted kids and a dog and Liv and –” Aaron starts shouting and Robert knows he’s the only one who gets Aaron this way. He isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or a terrible thing. It’s a mixture of both, he decides.

“I ruined that. I know.”

Aaron scoffs, like the admission is something he’d rather not have spelt out for him.

“Just tell me one thing, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll go, you’ll never have to see me again.” Robert waves a hand out like it’s a white flag. “Are you happier without me?”

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“You’re in my spot.”

In an alternative universe where robert does buy the pub and aaron has to be under the same roof as him again.

Aaron needs to grow up. His mum has told him enough times and so has Paddy. He’s pretty sure that living with his mum when he can afford to live elsewhere is something that he needs to stop doing. The fact that, officially speaking, he also lives with Robert now is something that makes his heart thump out of his chest, see stars, feel sick.

Robert’s got his feet up in the back room when Aaron finishes work, remote in hand and scrolling through the channels. He’s probably looking for that show where they turn a pile of shit into a tenner.

“Welcome to the show that takes all your unwanted …”

Yep. Exactly that.

Aaron realises he has two options here. He can storm up the stairs, grab a shower and wash off the day or he can do what he wanted to do which was have a pint in front of the telly and watch the latest episode of that crime show. 

“Oi.” Aaron says. 

Robert looks up. Aaron wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling this woosh of something when it happens. 

“You’re in my spot.” Aaron says, because telling Robert to fuck off is only going to excite him. 

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