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For Aaron, he’s had to get to know Robert all over again.
It’s not that he’s ever been two-dimensional – far from it. But he’s not three-dimensional anymore, or even four-dimensional. He’s a kaleidoscope of facets, broken apart by too many people and put back together by too many more.
He’s nothing like the Robert that Aaron married all those years ago, yet all the same.
Confusing, really, if you’re Aaron. He’s been through plenty of change himself but he’s never liked it, getting to grips with the status quo after one of those all too common earth-shaking, life changing events.
But he thinks he’s getting there now. He thinks he’s learning to read the lines of Robert’s face, the language of the bags under his eyes and the meaning behind every muscle’s twitch as he tosses and turns in bed.
It’s taken a while, but he’s there.
He knows when Robert’s had a flashback – a proper one, what his therapist would call an episode. He knows to bring him a cup of tea and sit by him, close enough that Robert can feel his warmth; to rub his back until he comes back to himself enough to reach out shakily for the plate of almost stale biscuits that Aaron put out, to dip into his almost cold tea.
He also knows when Robert’s just crawled back into his shell, jumpy and snappy but still close enough under the surface that Aaron can drag him back out – kicking and screaming, but there eventually.
Today is one of those days.
Robert’s been grumpy since he woke up, sniping at Aaron over the toast being too burnt (the toaster is still on the same setting it was yesterday) and his tea tasting funny (the same teabags they buy every time). Well, waking up is pushing it - he knows Robert hasn’t slept well, got the bruises on his shins to prove it.
Which is why he’s going to make this better.
It doesn’t take long to get Robert naked, sprawled out on the sofa. He is, at least, pliant enough under Aaron’s hands and his mouth, chin scratched red from the bristles of Aaron’s beard, cock curved proudly up.
“Beautiful,” Aaron says, when he’s climbed to his feet and is stripping his own clothes.
Robert rolls his eyes. Still a bit snippy, then.
Aaron just smiles sweetly and straddles his thighs again, shuddering when Robert’s cock slides against his.
“What’s brought this on?” Robert murmurs.
“Do I need a reason to seduce you?” Aaron counters, looping his arms around Robert’s neck. “You are my husband… boyfriend… something like that.”
“When you put it like that,” Robert muses, but his eyes are a little brighter. One of his hands slides off of Aaron’s hip and down to grab his own cock, holding it steady while his other hand guides Aaron down.
Aaron can’t help but groan, seating himself fully on Robert’s lap. His thighs are trembling with the need to move, to chase his pleasure, but instead, he tips his forehead against Robert’s and closes his eyes as those familiar fingers spider up his ribs.
This is enough. More than enough.
“Aaron,” Robert says, pressure on Aaron’s hips to make him move, but he stays still.
“No, like this,” Aaron says, tightening his arms. “Just like this.”
“I thought we were fucking,” Robert says, an annoyed kind of amusement threading through his tone.
“Making love, actually,” Aaron snaps back. The back of his neck heats up but he wills it away. “And we will. Later. For now, just — this. Just relax, Rob.”
“Don’t know how you expect me to relax like this,” Robert grumbles, but he wraps his arms around Aaron’s waist all the same and leans into Aaron’s hand when he threads his fingers through his hair.
“I’ve got you, okay?” Aaron says, scratching at his scalp. Robert’s head comes to rest on his shoulder, tension slowly easing out of his muscles. “You can let go, love.”
He’s not sure how long they stay like that. It could be minutes, hours, and his thighs are aching and his cock is leaking.
But Robert finally relaxes.
And that will always be enough for Aaron.