36. stopping a kiss when it gets too heated 💜
thank you my love! i hope you like it!
Kissing Robert had always been overwhelming. It had been, from that first kiss they shared in the layby, and it had been in all the years since, and it was now, Aaron finding himself with an armful of Robert, Robert’s mouth warm, and relentless against his own. It had always been overwhelming, and so comfortable, at the same time – Robert had always been home, even in their worst times, and Robert’s mouth on his own had always been the most familiar comfort of Aaron’s life.
Which is why it felt strange, that Aaron’s heart was thundering in his chest and he couldn’t seem to get out of his own head. Normally, when Robert kissed him, it was a comfort that Aaron could melt into.
“Robert,” Aaron breathed into Robert’s mouth, trying to stop Robert’s wandering hands from tugging off his jumper. He wanted Robert’s hands on his body, he really did – he wanted nothing more than to learn Robert’s body all over again, pay attention to every freckle, every scar, every line that made it clear Robert was six years older, now – and so was Aaron, the grey in his own beard a constant reminder of how much time had passed.
He wasn’t twenty-seven anymore, or twenty-five, or twenty-two anymore, the common thread his love for Robert. He was thirty-three, and he wanted it to work out this time – wouldn’t survive it, if it didn’t. Had barely survived it, last time around.
He could drown in Robert. The way Robert’s mouth moved against his own, sucking, licking, biting, Robert always having had this innate, intimate knowledge of how to take Aaron apart with his mouth – and his hands, those hands. Robert had one hand on the back of his neck, guiding Aaron’s mouth to where he wanted it to be, his grip firm, and grounding, just how it had always been.
But there was a shake to Robert’s hands that hadn’t been there before, and Aaron was worried.
Mates.
Just mates.
Robert’s tongue being halfway down his throat was sort of disproving that as the truth.
“Robert,” Aaron managed to pull back, trying not to be distracted by Robert’s clever, wandering hands. “Robert – this isn’t slow. It’s not mates.”
Robert’s eyes were wide, his blonde hair a mess. Aaron had done that. One of the great joys of his adult life had always been the times Robert had grown his hair out, long enough for Aaron to tug, and pull, push Robert to where he wanted him to be. He was fucking gorgeous. Robert was always gorgeous, but time had been good to him – he was older now, and Aaron loved him just the same.
His love for Robert was etched into his very DNA, whispered ‘I love yous’ carved into the bones of Aaron. He loved him, more than Aaron thought he was capable of loving anyone on this Earth.
“Do you – do you not want me, anymore?” and there it was – the insecurity that Robert had been swallowing, the barest hint of how Robert really felt escaping in the downcast expression he was doing his best to hide.
“I always want you,” Aaron shook his head, taking one of Robert’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers together tightly. It was his greatest truth – his want for Robert thrummed underneath his skin, a constant, even during all those years they were hundreds of miles from each other, Robert in prison and Aaron serving a life sentence of his own, desperate to clobber together some semblance of a life without the love of his life.
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Robert,” Aaron paused, and wondered, for a second, if this was how it felt for Robert, all those years ago, when Aaron’s head had been mashed, and Robert had been kind, and gracious, and oh-so romantic, promising Aaron that he’d wait, until he was ready. Robert wasn’t ready. “You’re not in a good place.”
“All the more reason to forget,” Robert shook his head, and tried to lean in again, Aaron cupping Robert’s jaw, holding him in place.
“You told me – a few months ago – not like this. So, listen to me, Robert – not like this,” Aaron wondered if it had been this hard for Robert to step back, all those years ago. He wanted, wanted, wanted, always wanted Robert. But not like this. “We both deserve more than that. Yeah? You deserve more than that.”
Robert’s eyes were glassy, with tears. “I – it’s not because you don’t want me, anymore? Now that you know about prison – about everything I had to – everything I had to do, to survive in there?”
Robert Sugden had always been this beautiful, fragile thing. Not everyone had seen that, but Aaron had – had from the beginning. He was this beautiful, fragile thing, and Aaron loved him. He had loved Robert when he was the confident, cocksure man who’d coaxed Aaron into the back of a car and changed his life, and he loved Robert now, despite everything he’d had to endure in order to stay alive in prison. The bullying, the beatings – the Kev of it all. None of it mattered, not to Aaron.
“You always tell me, that I’m the strongest person you know,” Aaron hummed, wiping away a few of Robert’s stray tears with the pad of his thumb. “It goes both ways. You’re the strongest person I know, Robert. I’ll always love you. I’ll always want you. But when you’re ready, yeah? I’ll wait. You waited for me. I’ll wait for you.”
Robert hiccupped out a shaky breath. “I can’t do this alone,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to fix myself.”
Aaron pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of Robert’s mouth, the salt of Robert’s tears lingering on his tongue as he spoke. “I’ll help you,” he reassured, and he would – he’d burn the world down for Robert, and knowing that had been scary, once, but he accepted it now. “I’ll help you this time, Rob. I promise.”
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