Archive of Our Own

Aaron sits at the bar as he watches the day go by outside. The sun’s out as he takes another sip of his pint in The Lonely Badger, the quietest pub on this side of London. A glance at his watch tells him that 3 o’clock is approaching, and he’s dreading when Marcus enters through the doors.

The bartender’s eyes are on him; they have been since he first walked in. He’s not the usual one who works this shift. Being here almost every week, Aaron’s used to the old man with the white beard and fedora, who regularly polishes glasses at the bar. 

He doesn’t mind, though; the new guy is fit, with blonde hair that looks like it could whistle in the wind and a jaw that sticks out in what can only be described as godlike. Aaron keeps glancing at him regularly, unable to help it.

But he won’t let the man distract him from his mission. He’s come here for a reason, and he can’t be deterred.

Finally, Marcus walks into the pub. Aaron forces a grin and tries not to grimace when he kisses him on the cheek.

“How are you?” Marcus asks, a massive smile on his face. Man, Aaron hates it when they smile so much; it only makes it harder.

“I’m good, yeah. You?” he asks. He just needs to get through the pleasantries, then he can rip off the bandage.

“It’s wonderful seeing you again,”

Aaron takes a sip of his pint, briefly catching the gaze of the bartender who’s busy raising an eyebrow at him. He swallows a lump in his throat, then turns back to Marcus.

“Yeah, about that,” he starts, then watches the corners of Marcus’s smile recede slowly. He already looks like a kicked puppy, goddamnit. 

“Is everything alright?” Marcus asks. 

“Look,” Aaron says. “I think we’ve kind of built this up to be more than it actually is.” 

Marcus’s smile completely drops off, only to be replaced with a furrowed brow. He places a hand over Aaron’s. 

“I’m confused,” he says.

Aaron looks towards their hands, conflicted between ripping his away and trying to keep the guy’s dignity intact. He really hadn’t expected Marcus to be the clingy type; he’s always seemed to go with the flow with a lot of things. 

“I thought we were having a good time,” he says to Aaron, who can’t hide his grimace this time.

“Look, it’s not even been 2 weeks. We met, yeah? We had a good time. I’m just not looking for anything serious, alright?”

“Well, surely you can’t just give it a chance first?” Marcus says, and Aaron tries not to roll his eyes, having heard this very speech one too many times before. 

“I don’t want anyone getting hurt, and I feel if we continue this for much longer, that’s going to be what happens.”

“I don’t understand. Why are you so sure one of us would get hurt?”

Aaron looks down at his jeans and starts playing with a loose thread. When he looks up he sees the bartender clearly struggling not to laugh, and Aaron raises a brow at his reaction. He’s obviously been listening to this whole spectacle, thinking he’s a proper rake. But Aaron isn’t completely heartless; he doesn’t want Marcus getting hurt, but it looks like he can’t control it.

“I’m sorry, Marcus, but you’re just not doing it for me.” 

Marcus rips his hand away from Aaron’s and gets up from his chair. “You are an arrogant tool, you know that, right?”

“What, because we want different things? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” 

Marcus scoffs. “Maybe… if I didn’t have this nagging feeling at the back of my mind telling me you’ve done this a whole awful lot. Maybe you should think about that before you end up old and alone, you poor sod.” With that, he storms out of the pub, not forgetting to throw the beer mat at Aaron before he leaves.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, really not expecting that sort of reaction. Wiping beer off his now-soaked jeans, he watches Marcus disappear out of the pub and around the corner. 

Facing the bar again, he drinks the last dregs from his pint glass, then hears a chuckle. The bartender saunters over with a cloth and a glass in his hand, cleaning it as he approaches.

“Wow, you really have a way with the lads, don’t ya?” he states.

“Shut it, he was becoming a right bore.”

The bartender, seeing Aaron still wiping himself down from the remnants of spilt beer, must feel sorry enough for him as he chucks him the towel. Aaron catches it, the linen soaking up the sticky liquid so he’s not sitting there completely drenched. 

“Oh, no, I don’t doubt that for a second,” Bartender Guy says. “Thought he was about to burst into tears any minute.”

“Yeah, that would’ve been the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it?” Aaron grumbles.

“What, you wouldn’t have offered him a tissue? Or a shoulder to cry on? Or a bandage to patch up the gaping hole you created in his heart?” 

Aaron can’t help but grin at the guys’ teasing, finding it refreshing after such an awkward encounter. He grabs Aaron’s pint glass and fills it to the brim with beer. When Aaron raises a questioning brow at the gesture, Bartender Guy simply shrugs.

“Breakups can be hard. Thought you might need it,” he says, and Aaron takes the pint even though the sentiment really isn’t needed.

“I think I’ll get over it, mate. Marcus was right; not like they aren’t a regular occurrence.” 

“So, you’re the guy?” he asks, and Aaron gives him a quizzical look. “Pat, the old bloke who used to take this shift, told me about the guy who comes in every week and breaks up with a different person every time.” 

“You bartenders always gossip about your punters behind their backs?” 

Bartender Guy gives a long, assessing gaze, biting his bottom lip as if he likes what he sees. “Only when they’re interesting enough.” 

Aaron gives a shocked huff of a laugh, surprised that this guy is actually quite the flirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, it’s not every week. That’s a bit of an unfair judgement. I’m just not in any rush to settle down, that’s all.” 

Not to mention there are plenty of things he can never tell the people he dates, so it’s a lot easier letting them go than letting them in. 

Bartender Guy goes back to cleaning the glass with a new towel. “Fair enough,” he offers, and Aaron asks the thing he’s wondered ever since he first entered the pub.

“So, you new or summat? Not really seen you here before.” 

“Yeah, just started a couple of days ago. Used to work at an old pub near the West End, but it had really funny-smelling booths.” Aaron grimaces, and the guy huffs a laugh at his reaction. “Yeah, safe to say I wasn’t enjoying it, found out they were hiring here and thought, ‘What the hell?’” 

“What’s your name then, Bartender?”

“Who’s asking?” 

Aaron smiles. “Well, me, I guess, the bloke you keep pouring pints for?” 

The guy cocks an eyebrow, his face now dead set with scepticism. “I poured you one.”

Aaron bites his bottom lip as he eyes him up and down. He certainly is a beautiful specimen. Who cares if he’s just broken up with someone else?–not like he was the love of his life.

The once-over doesn’t go unnoticed as Bartender Guy gives him a sultry grin. “Robert,” he provides. 

“Robert,” Aaron enunciates, liking the sound of the name on his tongue. “Tell me, since you’re a bartender and all, what is the meaning of life?” 

“You adhering to stereotypes now?” Robert questions with a sly look in his eye. “You know bartenders aren’t qualified to be actual therapists?” 

Aaron chuckles, appreciating the guy’s sense of humour. “I dunno, you guys always seem to have your shit together.”

“What makes you think I’ve got my shit together?”

“Well, you don’t smell like you’re drowning in liquor for one, which is more I can say for anyone else in this joint,” Aaron admits.

Robert leans on the bar now, his attention fully on Aaron. There are no customers in, apart from those who already have their pints and are now drowning away the sorrows that led to them being holed up in a bar at this time on a Wednesday. Aaron doesn’t let the thought fester that he is one of those mere mortals.

“Oh yeah, I love being a bartender slash therapist. Trust me, the stories I’ve heard, I should’ve gotten that PhD years ago.” 

Aaron grins, then plays with the condensation on his pint.

“Enough about me, what do you do for a living?” Robert asks.

“Mechanic. Like to get my hands nice and dirty”, Aaron says suggestively, which only leads to Robert raising a brow.

“You really seem like quite the heartbreaker.” Robert’s tone levels to something more serious.

Aaron merely shrugs, looks at Robert intently, seeing a resolve there he wants to take down. “You seem like the type not to let your heart be broken.”

“Some could say that’s actually you.”

“And you say you aren’t a therapist.” 

A slow grin spreads across Robert’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. The dim bar light glints off his green eyes whilst the air around them hums with an unspoken tension. Aaron leans in, drawn by an intoxicating scent – a mix of leather and mint emanating from the other man. 

“So, mechanic, eh?” Robert questions. “Do I know the garage?”

“That one on Clyde Street, by the old shoe factory.” 

Robert tries to think of it. “Oh, that one with the massive red roof?” he asks, and Aaron nods. “Maybe I’ll pop by some time, pester you at work instead.” 

Aaron can’t contain the laugh that escapes him. He doesn’t know why, but the thought of any other guy taking the time out of their day to see Aaron at work would send him running for the hills, but strangely, Robert making the effort makes him feel…giddy? What the heck even is that feeling?

“Well, you won’t get beer there, just poorly made brews,” he warns.

“I think I’ll manage.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, and in that moment, they gaze at each other with something heated coursing through the undercurrent. The warmth creeps over him, and he tells himself it’s the beer. It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and he’s already downed two pints; he is obviously feeling tipsy.

Maybe he should go. He’s terrifying himself with these weird feelings when he doesn’t even know this guy. 

“I guess I’ll see you then,” Aaron says as he gathers his jacket and keys.

“You heading off already?” Robert asks.

“Best stop pestering you at work, hadn’t I?” 

Robert chuckles, then nods as Aaron turns to leave. As he approaches the door, he hears a small cough and turns back to see Robert grinning from behind the bar. 

“Do I get a name then? Or do I just have to refer to you as heartbreaker?” 

Aaron bites his bottom lip. “Aaron,” he tells him, then, after another long pause, finds the push he needs to walk out of the pub.

***

The next day, Aaron can’t help but watch the front yard of the garage, waiting to see if Robert shows up. He knows it’s ridiculous. They hardly interacted all that long, and Robert probably only said he’d drop by as a passing statement. A way to flirt in the moment, without committing to any follow-through. 

But Aaron still can’t help it. He liked the way Robert smiled and didn’t take himself too seriously, and there was a suaveness about him that made him more appealing than a lot of the other blokes he’s flirted with in the last year. 

But no car has pulled into the garage all day. Only the ones they’ve got booked in already that Aaron has to try to concentrate on. He goes through every service like a lifeline, as it distracts him from thinking about the charming bartender with the gorgeous smile. 

Each bolt he tightens, each engine he purrs back to life, is a small victory against the urge to watch the yard. The rhythmic clatter of tools, the hum of machinery – these are the sounds that fill his London life. 

Sometimes he thinks about the garage back home in Emmerdale, with Cain, and Ryan, and Debbie, and even Jackson when he was busy building the cottage next door. Here, where there’s silence and hard graft, it makes him miss where laughter and easy conversation used to be. He gets on with his boss and his co-workers fine, but they’re just more empty faces in his day that he can never get to know. 

He focuses on the problem at hand, the intricacies of a sputtering exhaust, anything to keep the image of blonde hair, laughing eyes and the warmth of a shared drink from resurfacing. The warmth of possibility. 

He wipes grease from his brow, when suddenly his phone rings in his pocket. It’s an old burner flip phone that he’ll probably have to replace in a couple of weeks, and the number calling is an unknown number, but he already knows who it is.

“Hey Ads,” he says. 

“Yo, I’m coming to London this weekend yeah? You think you can swing it?”

Aaron smiles, glad to hear the familiar sound of his best mates voice. “Yeah, yeah that sounds great.”

“Will your flatmate care?”

Aaron scoffs. Scottie doesn’t care. He’s happy to overlook Aaron’s activities, and Aaron and Adam return the favour. He’s pretty sure Scottie has some illegal moonshine operation he wants to keep quiet, so Adam sleeping on the couch for the weekend and turning a blind eye won’t be a problem. 

“It’ll be fine, mate.”

“Alright, good.”

“Just don’t—“

“Tell your mum. Yeah, I know the drill Aaron.”

“Just making sure.”

“Got any idea what you want to do?”

Aaron sighs, and despite how hard he tries, he can’t help but look out at the yard once more. Still no Robert in sight. 

“There’s this pub I quite like,” is all he says in the end. 

***

It’s Friday night when he sees Robert again. 

He still hasn’t come to bother Aaron at work like he said he would, and Aaron’s tried not to let it bother him too much. It’s unlike him to be the one to do the chasing, but he’s intrigued by the man. So he wants to see him again? Sue him. 

He shows up at The Lonely Badger, not even knowing if Robert works the Friday night shift, but he’s hoping so. Entering the pub, he notices significantly more patrons than there were in the middle of the day. Now it’s filled with punters here for their after-work drinks, all gossiping over office politics and controversies. 

“You think I should bring Vic to London one day?” Adam asks. 

Aaron scoffs. “Is she your girlfriend yet?” 

“No,” Adam says. “That’s still a work in progress. But if I ask her to come to London, would she see it as a romantic gesture?

“Unlikely,” Aaron says nonchalantly, looking around the pub for the tiniest sliver of blonde here.

“Could bring her here? It’s got…charm?” 

Aaron briefly surveys the old pub. “Ah yes, because nothing screams romance like a pub called The Lonely Badger.” 

Somebody clears their throat behind him. “I dunno, there’s plenty of romance that goes down in the bogs here.”

Hearing the deep, gravelly voice causes Aaron’s face to light up with a grin, though he quickly tries to school his features, not wanting to seem like a clingy weirdo. Turning around, Aaron sees the man he came to see standing right in front of him. Robert beams at him, holding a perfectly balanced tray of empty glasses. 

“You’ve come to bug me at work again,” he says, his tone teasing. 

Aaron scoffs. “Don’t flatter yourself, mate. I’m just hoping for another free pint.”

Adam looks between the two of them, a confused look on his face. “You know this guy?” he asks.

“No. We’re complete strangers,” Aaron teases.

Robert smirks. “Right. That’s why you’ve come to stalk me at work, then.”

“Hey, I was a punter here before you even set foot in this joint.”

“Defensive,” Robert says, chuckling. “You want me to set you up at the table?”

“Sound.”

Robert steers them toward a booth near the back. It’s relatively close to the bar, which makes Aaron pleased. He can at least still ogle Robert as he goes about the motions of his job, whilst Adam uses Aaron as a sounding board for ideas to spice up his love life. 

Robert’s got his gaze locked on Aaron’s the whole time as he passes them menus, probably barely even noticing that Adam is even there. They order their pints and some fries, then Aaron glues his eyes to Robert’s back as he turns away and starts heading towards the bar. 

His broad shoulders continue to distract Aaron, so he barely hears Adam when he says something.

“Aaron!” Adam shouts more forcefully. 

“What?” he snaps, doing a double-take as he quickly faces his best mate. 

“Mate, could you be more obvious that you’re in love with the bartender?”

Aaron splutters. “I am not in love with the bartender!”

“You’re drooling.”

Aaron quickly pats his face to double-check, and he definitely is not. At least externally. He might be drooling in his head, but Adam doesn’t need to know that. 

“I am not.”

Adam just gives him a deadpan look. 

Finally, Aaron relents. “Fine. He’s fit, alright. Where’s the harm in staring?”

Adam chuckles. “God, you’ll forget about him in a week, mate. The way you’re going.”

Aaron gazes over at Robert, who’s serving another punter behind the bar. “Yeah, maybe.”

In all honesty, that warm feeling he felt the other day when he first met Robert still hasn’t left his chest. And he can’t explain it. It’s like this weird fluttering presence by his heart that just won’t go away, and Aaron doesn’t know if he even wants it to. The intrigue has woken him up more than anything, when he’s just felt like a zombie going through the motions the last couple of years. 

“The longest you’ve given a bloke the proper time of day is what? Two weeks? Ever since you and Ed broke up?”

Aaron shrugs. “Don’t know what you’re getting at.”

Adam scoffs. “Well, that’s why you chose this bar, innit? You’re objectifying the bartender because you want to shag and dash.”

Aaron sighs, choosing not to respond to Adam. 

Truth is, that’s probably what he would do. Who’s to say that after one night with Robert, he wouldn’t get bored just like he’s done with every single guy since Ed? It’s easy to get bored of someone when you can never really let them in completely. 

He probably only stayed with Ed as long as he did because he’d been the only constant in his life for over a year in France. With the law on his back in Yorkshire, his old life in Emmerdale seemed so far away that it was nice to have that constant.

But there’s only so much time you can spend on the run with someone before the cracks start to shatter. So they split, and Aaron wound up here in London, where he’s been able hide in the big city amongst the sea of people and buildings and essentially disappear. Emmerdale is still far away — his old life and family a distant memory at this point.

Adam at least comes down to see him every now and again, but even that is risky. He’s the only one Aaron trusts not to let slip that he’s in the country, so he can still fly under the radar. If his mum gets word he’s back in the UK, she’ll be on the first train down here dragging him back to Yorkshire by his ear.

“I just worry about you, mate,” Adam says. “Being down here on your own.”

“What’s the alternative?” Aaron asks with a shrug. “You turn yourself in and go to prison instead?”

Adam’s eyes open wide as he looks around the busy pub. Aaron berates himself internally. He’s not usually this brazen with the whole…covering for his best mate thing. Maybe the loneliness is finally taking its toll. 

Suddenly, Robert returns to their booth, pint glasses on a tray and fries at the ready. 

“At your service,” he says like some fit butler. 

Adam smirks. “He wishes.”

Aaron kicks Adam under the table. 

Robert acts like he doesn’t hear a word, but the suggestive look on his face tells Aaron that he’s wishing for the same thing deep down. When he meets the bartender’s eyes as he turns to leave, yeah, Aaron can see it then… a promise of later for sure. 

“If he plays his cards right,” Robert says before walking away from the booth and back behind the bar. 

Adam’s cheeks burn red. “Wow, he’s a flirt.”

“I think he was trying to make me blush, not you.”

Adam scoffs, taking a large swig from his pint before plonking it back onto the table. “It’s the beer, mate. Don’t know what you’re on about.”

***

Hours later, Adam excuses himself, saying he’s sick of Aaron and Robert eye-fucking each other from across the pub, so he’s made himself scarce and headed back to Aaron’s flat on the other side of the city. 

There’s hardly anybody left now as the clock closes in on midnight, so when Aaron approaches the bar there’s an empty spot meant just for him. Robert’s cleaning down the bar top with a cloth, and from this vantage point he can perfectly see the flex of his muscles beneath his shirt. 

“Wondered when you’d come over and bug me,” Robert says with that same suggestive smile as before. 

“Is that something you want?” Aaron asks. 

Robert smirks, finally looking up at him. “Remains to be seen.”

“You never showed up at the garage.”

You sound disappointed.”

“Just making an observation,” Aaron says. 

“Don’t tell me the heartbreaker is suddenly all clingy?”

“Maybe I'm just not used to the chase.”

Robert stops cleaning the bar, standing up straight as he gazes at him for a long moment. His assessing gaze is doing things to Aaron’s insides that he can’t describe. It’s like he’s turning to mush right here under Robert’s survey, his green eyes easy to get lost in — Aaron just needs to let himself fall into them.

“Who says you need to chase?” Robert asks, his voice all low tones and gravel again. 

The air is suddenly thick between them, Aaron’s heart beating in his chest so chaotically he can hear it in his eardrums. A sliver of sweat clings to his forehead, and suddenly he’s aware of his every breath. Robert continues to gaze at him, with those amazing eyes and that impressive jawline, and Aaron thinks there’s even a scatter of freckles across his nose, but he’s standing too far away to tell. 

A quick look around the pub shows it’s nearly deserted. The thought of taking Robert to the bogs and having his way with him is too big of a temptation, and he doubts he could resist if Robert were to suggest such a thing right now.  

But no, Rob’s clearly got other plans. 

“I finish in thirty,” he says with a suggestively arched brow.

A small smile creeps onto Aaron’s face as he eyes the other man. There’s no denying that the electric current coursing through his veins isn’t a one-sided thing. And a quickie in the bogs will not cut off the power. 

“I’ll wait then,” Aaron says.

Robert’s grin stretches further across his face. And man, it’s utterly breathtaking. “Good, I’ll make you a drink then.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of drink?”

“Well, you seem like a negroni kind of guy.”

Aaron shrugs, his eyebrows shooting up as he finally takes his seat at the barstool. “If that’s what you’re into.” 

Robert huffs a laugh, as if he’s endeared by Aaron completely. “You’ve never heard of it, have you?”

“Ah,” Aaron says, nodding his head. “No.”

Robert glances around the bar to find all the ingredients he needs. “Think orange taste. Kind of bitter.”

“You think I’m bitter?” Aaron jokes. 

Robert scoffs. “Still trying to figure that out. But you smell like oranges, so if that’s the cologne you wear, something tells me you can handle your citrus.”

Aaron’s heartbeat speeds up. “You’ve noticed my cologne?”

Robert fixes him with a heated gaze. “Obviously. That and you have this underlying smell of…grease.”

Aaron chuckles. “Yeah, that’s why I wear the orange. Only thing that can mask the scent.”

“And why would you mask such a thing?” Robert asks as he gets to work on making the cocktail. 

“You calling me a greasemonkey?”

Robert lifts his gaze, a small grin on his face as he continues preparing the negroni. “Good thing greasemonkey’s are my type.” 

Aaron watches as he carefully measures the gin, Campari and sweet vermouth into a cocktail shaker, the ice clinking rhythmically as he stirs. He does it so systematically that it’s clear he’s been doing this for years. 

“Good thing blonde bartenders are mine,” Aaron says.

Robert laughs, one from deep within his chest. “And here the heartbreaker goes.”

“Hey you’re the one who left me hanging.”

Robert says nothing, just keeps the charming smile on his face as he passes Aaron the completed cocktail. 

“Tell me what you think.”

Aaron takes a sip and his whole life changes. The zesty taste of the orange clings to his tastebuds, blending with the alcohol in a sensation of flavour nothing like he’s experienced before. 

“Wow. Now that’s good.”

Robert grins. “Pass the test?”

“Flying colours.”

“Well that's a relief, seeing as I’ve been doing this long enough.”

“Yeah I can tell,” Aaron says.He takes another sip, unable to pace himself, because it’s just too good. “Seriously, I could never make anything this good.”

Robert arches a brow. “Don’t you rebuild engines from literal scrap metal?”

“That’s different,” Aaron shrugs. “Engines are meant to be taken apart and put back together, and If they don’t work, you just… fix them.”

“Cocktails are a bit like that too. You just gotta know how to fix it. Basic chemistry. Basic physics.”

Aaron huffs a quiet laugh. “See i’d just mess it up and not know what to do next.”

Robert slides the shaker across the bar between his hands. “You’d be surprised. It’s not that different.”

“From what? You memorising fancy drink names?”

“From being a mechanic. Like you just gotta know your parts and your tools, and it all makes sense in the end.”

Aaron pauses, eyes narrowing slightly. “How would you know?”

Robert hesitates just a fraction too long, then shrugs like it’s nothing. “Used to be one.”

Aaron blinks. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“You?” Aaron lets out a short laugh. “Behind a bonnet instead of a bar?”

Robert’s mouth curves, softer now. “Different life.”

Aaron studies him properly this time. “When?”

“Before London. Before… all this.” He gestures vaguely to the shelves, the lights, the polished glass. “Grease under my nails instead of lime juice.”

Aaron leans back against the bar stool, watching as something unreadable flickers across Robert’s face. “Why’d you stop?”

Robert looks down at his hands, flexes them like he can still feel phantom oil there. “Guess I got good at taking things apart,” he says, something haunted in his tone. “Not so good at keeping them running.”

Aaron doesn’t smile at that. “You ever miss it?”

Robert meets his eyes. “Sometimes.”

“You bent over a bonnet. Now that I’d like to see,” Aaron says, chuckling, sensing the need to lighten the tone again. 

Robert’s face visibly flushes. Finally, Aaron’s turned the ‌tables and got one over on Mr. smooth talker himself.  

“Sounds like greasemonkey is your type too,” Robert says. 

Aaron shrugs. “Or maybe it’s just blondes.”

Robert says nothing, just keeps Aaron’s heated gaze as the click of his tongue against his teeth breaks the quiet. Something tells Aaron he’s picturing him bent over a bonnet now too. 

***

Half an hour later, Aaron watches as Robert sticks the key in the pub’s lock. Standing under the street lamps, his golden hair glows, and Aaron really needs to get him somewhere he can have him. In a bed. On a sofa. In a shower. Against a wall. Anywhere. Like right now. 

After he finishes locking up, Robert turns to Aaron, his cheeks already red from the winter chill as he gives him a rosy smile. 

“Where to then?” Aaron asks.

Robert smirks. “Someone’s in a rush.”

Aaron shakes his head at the cocky tease. “You’ve already kept me waiting a half-hour.”

“Sorry I couldn’t just let you fuck me over the bar in the middle of my place of work.”

“Sure it would have been a great sight for all your punters.”

“Kinky,” Robert says. “Getting right into our preferences and you’ve not even kissed me yet.”

Aaron bites his bottom lip. He’s standing closer to him now than he’s been able to before, and from here, he can see the freckles scattered across his face, especially in the glow of the streetlamp overhead. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

Robert chuckles. “Aren’t you fucking chivalrous?”

Before he can even give Aaron a second to breathe, he pushes him backwards until his back hits the wall of the pub. Robert gives him one more heated once-over before he moves close and crashes his lips against Aaron’s. 

Aaron’s breath hitches, a sharp gasp leaving him. Pressed hard against the cool, rough brick of the wall, a dizzying wave of desire washes over him. He’s suddenly free-falling, tumbling towards an unseen ground at an alarming, unstoppable rate. 

He kisses Robert back fiercely, curling his tongue inside the other man’s mouth as he presses their bodies closer together. He can just make out his broad figure beneath his heavy winter coat, all solid shoulders, and hard muscles. The warmth emanating from Robert’s body morphs with his own, twisting and wrapping around them both until they’re burning in a furnace. 

Aaron doesn’t want to come up for air. Ever. He groans, pulling Robert closer by clasping a hand behind his neck and breathing him in and in and in. 

“Fuck,” Robert says with a gasp as he pulls back. 

“Still just me in a rush?” Aaron asks. 

Robert huffs. “No. I’m taking you back to my flat now.”

Aaron smirks. “Best lead the way then.”

Robert doesn’t even hesitate before he grabs Aaron’s hand, starts leading him down the street towards the underground. And normally any guy casually taking his hand and keeping hold of it like this would send him running for the hills, but there’s something strangely intoxicating in the way Robert does it. 

He’s not trying to claim possession of Aaron, but is pulling him along with a kind of breathless urgency, like being apart for even another minute is intolerable. Hungry, Aaron feels himself lean into it, fingers curling tighter in Robert’s, because for once he doesn’t want distance. He wants the rush. He wants Robert’s hand in his. He wants where this is leading.

The entire ride on the tube feels like an eternity. He keeps his thigh pressed tight against Robert’s as they sit in heated silence. The anticipation is bubbling between them, tantamount to a pressure cooker about to go off. And Aaron embraces the heat of it. Feels the slivers of warmth trickle across the goosebumps on the back of his neck and wants wants wants. They don’t reignite their kiss, but when the tube stops at the next station, Robert grabs his hand again and Aaron still doesn’t want to let it go. 

He’s guided through the London streets, turning down a different one every few steps until they’re standing outside a terrace house, and Robert is reaching into his pockets for a key to unlock the door. 

“Nice place.”

Robert hums. “Have an even nicer bed.”

Then he finally pulls Aaron in for another kiss as they topple through the front door. Robert moans into the kiss, wrapping his tongue around Aaron’s as he engulfs his face with his enormous hands. Walking backwards, he guides the way, not letting his lips leave Aaron’s for even one second as he navigates his way upstairs and through his bedroom door, then finally…finally, throws Aaron down on his bed. 

“You’re actually making me feel insane,” Robert says.

Aaron breathes heavy, unable to catch his breath. “Right back at you.”

“Glad we established that. Now take your clothes off.”

Aaron’s cheeks flush as he quickly unbuckles his belt. Robert watches him with a heat in his eyes that feels like sin, watches intimately the pull of the leather and the metal slipping through every notch. 

Robert flutters his eyes open and shut, pulling himself back to reality and away from whatever trance he’s lost in, and swiftly removes his shirt. Suddenly Aaron salivates, releasing a low guttural sound as he takes in Robert’s golden, sculpted torso. He knew the guy was beautiful, but not to this extent. 

“Like what you see?” Robert asks, his voice dripping with sex and sultry and a fuck-tonne of other things that are still turning Aaron’s brain to mush. 

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Aaron responds. He quickly stands from the bed and places a hand on Robert’s naked waist and pulls him in for another deep kiss. Robert kisses like he’s starving, like he wants to consume Aaron whole, and it’s increasing Aaron’s heart rate even more with every second.

Robert unbuckles his own belt, releasing his trousers from their constraints as he lowers them to the floor. He pushes Aaron backward, encouraging him to lie down on the bed. As Robert hovers above him, his warm, solid weight on top of him has Aaron yielding a low, desperate groan. 

“You want this?” Robert asks, grinding down on Aaron in a way that just has him wishing they were finally, fully naked and already taking each other apart. 

“Yeah, I bloody want it.”

Robert grins. That beautiful, sly, teasing grin he always gives him. And Aaron melts further into the mattress than he thought was even possible. 

“Good,” he breathes.

He launches himself forward, his lips trailing a path down Aaron’s neck, and suddenly Aaron’s entire body comes alive. It’s a push and pull and a give and take, and they’re moving together in a way that causes him to feel a rush unlike anything he’s experienced in so so long. 

Robert slides his hand under his shirt, and Aaron pauses briefly, concern over scars that litter his skin, but there’s something about the other man that lessens his anxiety. With most sexual partners he would keep his shirt on, but here? Now? His resolve quickly melts and Aaron surrenders to the growing pleasure of Robert’s touch. 

If Robert notices the scars, he says nothing. He just whips the shirt over Aaron’s head, throws it on the floor and then hurries to pull Aaron into another fiery kiss. 

When Aaron feels Robert’s cock meet his through the fabric of their underwear, he feels like he’s living on cloud nine. There’s so many highs he has felt in his life, as well as so many lows, but somehow, with this man, who he literally knows nothing about, he’s feeling the most euphoric he’s felt in a long, long time. 

They grind their cocks, and kiss and kiss, sharing their ecstasy in their breath, until Robert kneels above him and pulls down the fabric of his underwear. Aaron drools even more at the sight of Robert’s already hard cock. It’s long and thick, and just how Aaron likes it, and he wastes no time in pushing Robert onto his back and taking him into his mouth. 

Robert’s groans start almost instantly, as Aaron keeps him heavy on his tongue. He spreads his legs further apart and throws his head back into his pillow. As another groan falls from his lips and he grips the sheets, Aaron prides himself in the sounds and reactions escaping the other man. 

He loves sex. He always has. But recently he’s only liked it mainly because of the pleasure he gets from it. Call him a selfish lover all you like, but that’s just how it’s been. But here? Tonight, with Robert in his mouth, he doesn’t want to rush it. He wants to take his time with it and draw even more of those noises out of his mouth. 

He takes him deep into his throat, and Robert arches his back. He quickly throws a hand into Aaron’s hair, clenching the strands between his fingers as he thrusts his hips upwards. Groans pour out of him, and it spurs Aaron on and on and on, to the point he thinks it’s gonna end like this: Robert coming just from his mouth, and the thought absolutely terrifies him. Because it would be enough to set him off too. But also not, because he knows he'd want more. He wants to see the other man taken apart and put back together over and over again. Like a fucking engine.

He gags as Robert thrusts too hard at the back of his throat. Gasping, he pulls off and wipes his mouth against his arm.  

“Sorry,” Robert stutters. “Fuck, you’re so good at that.”

Aaron positions himself on his knees, feeling his own cock straining. “Had a lot of practice,” he says breathless

Robert raises a brow. “I bet.”

Fuck, he’s a glorious sight. Already glistening with sweat, ‌his whole body red with the blood pumping through his veins. This hunger Aaron feels right now? God, he never wants to be full. 

“I can make you come on my tongue if you want.”

Robert grins at him, shaking his head as he sits up, meeting Aaron in the middle of the bed. He instantly grabs for Aaron’s clothed cock, giving a gentle squeeze through his underwear, pulling a groan from his lips. 

“No, I have other plans for you tonight.”

“Yeah?”

Robert nods. “On your back.”

Aaron raises a brow, but does as requested, falling to the mattress and pulling on the waistband of his underwear to drag them down his thighs. The whole time, Robert watches on in intrigue, his eyes glinting as he takes in Aaron’s hard cock. 

Once Aaron throws his underwear to the floor, Robert moves in on him, taking his cock into his hand. After several agonising, beautiful strokes, he leans down, taking Aaron into his mouth, and straight to the back of his throat. 

And fuck. If Aaron had felt euphoric before, he feels even more so now. The wet heat around his cock is not unfamiliar; he’s certainly felt it before, but how Robert wraps his tongue around him? It has him curling his toes and clenching his fingers in the sheet. 

He’s an expert at this, taking him deep and placing pressure right where he needs to. Obviously Robert knows what he’s doing, and by god it’s the best blow job Aaron’s ever had in his life. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, letting his back arch and his head fall deeper into the pillow. The moans escaping him are doing so involuntarily, but he’s lost all his inhibitions at this point. All that exists right now, the only senses he’s aware of, are his cock, Robert’s mouth, and the hammering of his own heartbeat. 

Sweat is already forming across his chest as the heat in the room drives higher and higher, and if he wasn’t desperate for Robert before, he needs him so much more now.

“I need you in me,” he pushes out. 

“Only if you’re in me later,” Robert pops off his cock to say.

“Deal. Fuck. Such a good deal,” Aaron decrees. He sits up, grabbing the sides of Robert’s face as he pulls him in for a deep kiss. He tastes himself on Robert’s tongue, and it just drives him even wilder. 

“Condom? Lube?”

“Top drawer.”

Aaron leans over, grabbing one of each and tossing them at Robert, before he lies back and spreads his legs. He’s never one for face-to-face like this, and he does not know why he’s opted for this position, but he wants it. 

Robert leans over, grabs a cushion to shove under Aaron’s hips. It doesn’t take long to lube up his fingers before he puts them by Aaron’s hole and looks at him with an anticipatory gaze.

“All good?”

“Yeah, do it.” Aaron says. 

Robert pushes past the rim, one finger that sets Aaron’s whole world alight. He doesn’t bottom often, usually opting to top with most guys, but being with Robert like this has him already entering ecstasy. 

Robert takes his time with it, carefully opening him up with perfectly measured strokes as he aims to find Aaron’s prostate, and when he finally does, by god does he know how to work it. He goes from one to two to three fingers, and the whole time, Aaron never wants it to stop. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Aaron whimpers. “God, that feels good.”

Robert lunges forward over Aaron’s body, his face a mask of desperate hunger, eyes wide and starving. "Fuck," he rasped, his voice thick, "I need to be inside you."

Aaron nods. “Fuck me. God. Fuck me.”

Robert doesn’t stutter as he pulls his fingers free, rolls on the condom and lines himself up. An intensity Aaron can’t describe quickly replaces their banter and flirting as Robert pushes in, the whole time their eyes locked in a way Aaron’s not experienced with any sexual partner, not even Jackson or Ed. He doesn’t know what it means, just knows it feels good, and he never wants Robert to take his cock out of him. 

Robert sinks in slowly, pushing past Aaron’s rim until eventually he’s fully inside. Thrusting forward, he sets a brutal pace and Aaron’s mouth slips open in silent awe. The stamina and the godforsaken pleasure Robert’s putting him through quickly turn him to molten lava, and the only thing he can do is burn and burn as Robert keeps lighting the fire inside him.

Aaron lets out a ragged breath, his body arching against Robert’s insistent rhythm. The world narrows to the pulsing heat and the overwhelming sensation of being consumed, each thrust deepening the fire, leaving him breathless and utterly undone. He clings to Robert, raking his fingers down his back as he loses himself in all his senses that have quickly turned aflame.

It’s one thrust after another, and Aaron knows he’s releasing grunts and moans that are obscene and loud and hopes to god Robert doesn’t have a flatmate, but he can’t find it in himself to stop. It just feels too fucking good. 

And he finds it impossible to explain–the intrigue, the desire, the connection–but he’s long past trying to.

“Yes!” Aaron shouts, slapping his hand up to grab hold of the headboard. He clenches the metal frame with a white-knuckle grip as Robert drives into him harder and deeper with every thrust.

Robert moans. “God, you feel good.”

“Fuck, touch me. ”

Robert obliges, taking Aaron’s neglected cock into his grasp. He pumps it in time with his thrusts, one after the other. 

Aaron’s breath hitches. “Oh, fuck… Robert…” he gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he arches his back once again, meeting Robert’s rhythm with his own. The sounds of their bodies colliding fill the small room, hot skin mixing with sweat. Robert’s other hand slides up Aaron’s slick torso, and it’s such a gentle touch against the brutal pace of his hips that it causes goosebumps to rush up Aaron’s skin. 

His orgasm sneaks up on him much quicker than he thought it would. But with the relentless pressure on his prostate, coupled with the exquisite skill of Robert’s hand, it’s a losing battle.

“Fuck, I’m coming.”

“Yeah?” Robert’s breath hitches. 

“Yes, fuck. I’m coming!” 

His release floods him, a warm wave spreading across his chest as he surrenders to Robert’s rhythm. A raw, heavy groan escapes him, and he can barely comprehend the intensity of the pleasure he’s feeling.  

Robert quickly follows, releasing into the condom with sweat glistening all over his glowing red face. It looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe entirely. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Robert says on a choked gasp. His panting is heavy as he still hovers above Aaron. 

In the aftermath, they try to come down from something that was clearly earth-shattering for both of them. 

“Fuck,” Aaron says with a long release of breath. 

Robert looks at him in awe. Like he can’t help himself, he leans down and presses their lips together. It’s nowhere near as heated as the kisses they shared when they were in the heat of the moment. It’s more tender and soft, and the kiss would freak Aaron out if he was experiencing this come down with anyone else. But he’s not freaked out. 

Fuck, he wants more. 

Robert pulls out and quickly flops onto his back beside Aaron on the bed. 

“Well,” Robert says. “That was something.”

Aaron chuckles. “You can say that again.”

Robert turns his head to the side and smiles at Aaron in a way that carries none of the same heated flirting or sexual desire he’s become accustomed to from Robert. No, this one just carries tenderness, and fondness, and kindness. And somehow it’s this smile that causes more butterflies to flutter in his gut than the other one. 

“Are you hungry?” Robert asks. 

Aaron returns the smile with little objection. “What are you offering?”

Robert releases a contemplative sigh, gazing up at his ceiling. “I could make you pasta.”

“It’s like 1 in the morning. You’re actually going to make me pasta at this hour?”

Robert shrugs. “I’ll make you whatever you want.”

Aaron bites his lip as he looks at Robert closely, seeing some kind of need there in the other man’s eyes. He wants to do this — no; he needs to do this for Aaron. 

“How’s your bacon butty game?”

Robert smirks. “I’ll make you the best bacon butty you’ve ever had in your life.”

***

Ten minutes later they’re sitting across from each other at Robert’s dining table, eating their bacon butties. It’s rare Aaron does this after sex — just chill in his underwear with the man he’s just been with and trade knowing smiles, like they’ve just blown each other’s worlds apart. 

He usually avoids doing this because it’s in moments like this where questions get asked, and he has to hold back on the details of his life. You can’t exactly say to someone, oh yeah, I grew up in Emmerdale but left because I’m now on the run for arson. 

Robert’s not asking questions, though, which is a bit of a relief. He doesn’t have to weave his way around the answers. But just being in Robert’s company is nice. He likes the guy, likes his sense of humour, his charming smile and his quick wit. It feels like he’s known him for ages, when in reality it’s only been a couple of days. 

“You weren’t lying about this butty,” Aaron says. “Definitely the best one I’ve ever had in my life.”

Robert chuckles. “What can I say? I’m a dab hand in the kitchen.”

“How has somebody not wifed you up yet?”

Robert scoffs. “Haven’t held on to anyone long enough to get to that point.”

Aaron’s mouth curves upwards. He can see a lot of himself in Robert. They’ve both clearly got a long list of people they’ve shared a bed with, so Aaron’s not quick to judge. He wonders, though, if this strange pull he’s got towards Robert is reciprocated, or if Aaron’s just another name that will get added to Robert’s list. 

“Where’d you learn to cook?” Aaron asks. 

It’s the first real personal question Aaron has asked, and it flies out of his mouth on its own accord. There’s a flicker of surprise across Robert’s face, as if he wasn’t expecting the whole question thing either, but something settles across his features.

“Ah…my mum, I guess. She was quite the chef herself.”

Aaron nods, then notes the past tense of his statement and feels a moment of sadness for the other bloke. He’s looking down at his butty, taking another bite, no longer meeting Aaron’s eyes. 

“Well, she must have been amazing if this is anything to go by.”

“She was,” Robert says, nodding his head as he chews. “How about you? Other than being a mechanic, what else are you good at?”

Aaron smirks. “How do you know I’m a good mechanic? You never showed up to bug me. I could be awful for all you know.”

Robert laughs. “Still not letting that go then?”

“Well, I like a man who keeps his promises.”

“Clearly I’m not one of them then,” Robert says. “How can I make it up to you?”

Aaron says nothing for a lengthy moment, just gives Robert a long, steamy stare. “I think you already have.”

Robert bites his bottom lip, then clucks his tongue. “What, with the bacon butty? Or the other thing?”

Aaron feels his skin heating again and sees the intense desire in Robert’s eyes. If he wants, he could lean over this table and have his way with him all over again. 

“Definitely the other thing.”

Robert blows out a quick whistle. “Bacon butty mustn’t have been that good then.”

“It was,” Aaron says with a chuckle, dusting the crumbs off his hands. “But… your cock was better.”

Robert’s eyes flare. “Straight to the point then.”

“Maybe you need to make it up to me more. I really thought you’d show up at the garage.”

Robert, done with his butty, leans back in his chair and gives Aaron’s body a long once-over. “Maybe I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Aaron raises a brow. “How so?”

“I get the impression you don’t like people being clingy. Didn’t want to make you think you’re all I’ve been able to think about for days.”

Aaron feels his heart hammer in his chest. “That’s quite an admission.”

“Well, clearly I’ve been stuck in your head for days as well, otherwise you wouldn’t have shown up tonight.”

The chuckle that escapes Aaron then is completely involuntary. “Cocky, huh?”

Robert gives him that same sly smile that’s been haunting his every thought. “I just proved that to you and all didn’t I?”

“You gonna prove it again?”

Robert’s smile grows wider on his face inch by inch. “If that’s what you want.”

Aaron immediately gets up from the table, pulls Robert to his feet, and then leads him back to the bedroom.

***

Aaron’s bent over a bonnet the next day. It’s been a pretty boring morning all round with his colleague off sick for the day, so he’s been up to his elbows in a rusty motor for hours trying to get the piece of shit to purr. 

But it’s a pleasant surprise when a blue car rocks up, and Robert climbs out of the vehicle. He’s got coffee cups in hand and a smug grin on his face as he takes in Aaron wearing his tightly fitting overalls. 

He clearly likes what he sees as he lets out a wolf whistle. “The mechanic at work, I see.”

Aaron smirks, enjoying the leather jacket that clings to Robert’s shoulders, a stark contrast to the black shirt he always wears when he’s standing behind the bar. When Robert approaches and extends one of the coffees, Aaron feels that warm, fluttery feeling return to his chest. 

“We really must stop meeting like this,” Robert says teasingly.

Aaron shakes his head with a chuckle. “What? You mean seeking each other out to purposely annoy the shit out of each other at work?”

Robert shrugs. “Seems like a good meet-cute to me.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, then looks over Robert’s shoulder to the piece of junk he arrived in. 

“And what’s this?”

“Figured you could take a look. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.”

“And what are those two birds exactly?”

Robert grins. “Well, I get my rickety old car looked at whilst also getting to ogle you in overalls. It’s a win-win.”

Aaron blanches at the guy’s confidence. “You’re such a flirt.”

“You love it.”

Aaron takes a sip of his coffee, then walks over to the blue hatchback and pops the bonnet. “How long have you had this piece of crap exactly?”

Robert looks down at the old car, places his hand on the edge of the lifted bonnet and smiles. “A while I guess. It’s got me places. Wherever it’s been pointed.”

“That’s ominous.”

Robert scoffs. “Point is, I don’t want her breaking down on me, yeah? So, can you tell me why it’s making funny sounds?”

Aaron looks closely, inspects the motor and all its connections, then gets in the drivers seat and turns it on to assess the situation. He takes a while to gauge the many, many issues Robert’s car has to deal with before he stands in front of the other bloke and sips his coffee. Robert’s very obviously been objectifying him in the time it’s taken to inspect the car, but he can’t say he minds, seeing as he’s ogled Robert plenty enough at the bar. 

His coffee cup sits warm in his hand as he gazes at the blond man in front of him. He’s definitely got a look about him. His golden face, the scatter of freckles across his nose. Aaron doesn’t think he’d resist if he tried it on with him another time. Even if it was right here in the middle of the garage. 

“So what’s the damage?” Robert asks. 

He wears a teasing grin on his face, like he knows exactly what is running through Aaron’s head. How he’d had him in his sheets for hours on end, and then again, when that was no longer enough, he’d had him on the bathroom floor. It was the best sex Aaron’s ever had, but he isn’t telling the cocky git that. 

“You need a new spark plug, and your brake pads are shot. Probably need a wheel alignment too—”

Robert blows out a long whistle. “That’s gonna cost me.”

“No mates rates.”

“Who says we’re mates?” Robert asks, cocking a brow. 

Aaron smiles, seeing the intent on Robert’s face before he bites the bullet and kisses him. Aaron groans, feeling his warm lips move against his own, and just like last night, his brain disappears entirely. The whole garage disappears. All that he’s taking in is Robert, his lips against his own, and the car door that Robert’s now pushing him up against. 

Robert moves in closer, cupping Aaron’s face with both his enormous hands as he keeps the kiss going. It’s tender, and hot, and soft and hard, and so many different things that Aaron can’t name, but that’s exactly how he’s feeling about Robert in general. 

He can’t place why he feels so attracted to him, more so than he’s done for a bloke in a long while. Robert has a hold over him, chipping away at the hard wall Aaron had to put in place. Robert’s got the same wall, Aaron knows that much. And he wants to break through his exterior too, in ways he’s never wanted to with anyone before. 

When Robert finally pulls away, his smile has Aaron feeling like molten lava all over again. He feels like a fucking schoolgirl who just got her first kiss, and there’s all these stupid butterflies in his gut. It sucks. 

“Still no mates rates?” Robert asks. 

Aaron scoffs. “No chance,” he says as he pushes Robert away from him. 

Robert places a hand to his heart, feigning heartbreak. 

Aaron laughs, a low rumble in his chest. “Don’t you start with that,” he warns, though there’s no heat in his tone. “I’m already struggling enough to think straight around you as it is.” He gestures vaguely at the car. “And I’ve got actual work to do.”

Robert raises his hands as if in surrender. “Alright, just tell me what you need and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Aaron tuts, clicking his tongue. “I do need your ID for the books. Gotta make sure this piece of shit’s not stolen.”

Robert pats the roof of the 90s hatchback that’s seen far better days. “Don’t listen to him, Betsy. He’s just grumpy about everything, it seems.”

Aaron chuckles despite himself. It clearly has an effect on Robert, as a wide smile forms across his face. Without saying another word, he pulls out his wallet, takes out his license and passes it to him.

Aaron takes it absentmindedly at first, his eyes still flickering across Robert’s face. But when he finally looks down at his ID, he does a double-take.

What. The. Absolute. Fuck?

Aaron's breath hitches, as a wave of disbelief washes over him. "S… Sugden?" he stammers, his eyes widening, trying to reconcile the man before him with the unexpected name. "As in Vic's brother?" 

Sugden.

It echoes in the sudden silence, heavy with unspoken history and a hint of something sharp, like the burning charcoal of a tree that’s just been struck by lightning.

Robert’s charming smile drops instantly, and he stands there completely blank, as if a wrecking ball has just knocked him over. It hits Aaron just as hard, because what do you mean he’s just shagged the great womaniser of Emmerdale’s past, and he didn’t even know? 

“You’re Robert Sugden?” Aaron asks again, because he’s still too much in disbelief that this is actually happening. It doesn’t dawn on him until now that he’s never even asked Robert for his last name, and he’s never given Robert his in return.

“How-” Robert stutters to say. His brow is furrowed in confusion, and he looks like he’s just been whacked with the wrecking ball all over again. “How do you know Vic?”

“I grew up with her?” Aaron says slowly. “She’s one of my oldest friends.”

Robert’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “That’s…what? How?”

“Because I’m from Emmerdale?” Aaron says like that should be fucking obvious. 

Robert appears two seconds away from hyperventilating, his face red from the blood that’s rushed to his head, his chest moving up and down at a rapid rate. “Who…what? What’s your last name?” 

Evidently, he’s just clocked onto the fact that he hasn’t asked Aaron for that vital piece of information either. 

“Livesy,” Aaron says. The confusion is still noticeable on Robert’s face because he clearly doesn’t recognise the name. He squints his eyes tight as if trying to rack his brain. “But I’m a Dingle. My mum…she’s Chas Dingle.”

Robert closes his eyes in utter devastation. A long, heavy sigh escapes him as he combs his fingers through his blonde locks of hair. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grits out, as he quickly slams the bonnet of his car shut. The loud clang causes Aaron to jump as he watches Robert rush towards his driver’s door.

“How…how is this even possible?” Aaron asks. “We’ve met here, but we’re both from the same place?”

Robert says nothing as he climbs into the front seat. 

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. The least they could do is actually talk about this. 

“I can’t,” Robert says, shaking his head as his voice cracks. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Robert,” Aaron begs. 

But he’s ignored completely, and the other bloke leaves him speechless as he slams the car door shut and drives off. He floors it without a second thought.  

***

Robert Sugden had always been this elusive name whispered in vain — at least in the time Aaron had spent living in Emmerdale. He’d never met the guy before now, but he’d heard enough about him from Vic, saying how much she missed her older brother, and Andy, who claimed he was just a lying scumbag, and he was glad to see the back of him. Katie had complained to his mum about her ex enough times, the one who cheated and lied his way through life, then there were the village gossips like Nicola, who never shut up about him being this great big philanderer. 

Aaron had never paid enough attention to it all to really say he cared. But now? After meeting Robert? After sleeping with him? He’s a flirt; there is no denying that. But there’s already so much more to him than Aaron would ever have pegged him for. 

Knowing firsthand what it’s like to be ostracised, Aaron grasped Robert’s reasons for leaving Emmerdale for good. Aaron did essentially the same thing. Granted, he’d had the excuse of running from the law with his fit rugby boyfriend, but he wouldn’t be lying if he said he was grateful to see the back of the small village where life got too much, and the whispers too loud. Robert hasn’t even entered the village for years, and yet his name still gets passed around like an unpleasant smell.

Which is why Aaron is standing outside The Lonely Badger, trying to muster the courage to go inside. It’s been a few days since that moment at the garage, when Robert had his tongue down Aaron’s throat one minute, then was rushing out the door the next. 

He doesn’t care about the opinions of other people. He never has. Who cares if there are all these rumours about the life Robert used to live? He wants to hear the actual story from the real person, and he’s hoping to god that Robert will give that to him.

Maybe this makes sense actually — why Aaron has this strong connection to Robert. Maybe it’s the northern accent that feels like home, or maybe it’s the universe with a sick sense of humour. He’s never believed in that sort of thing, but it’s the only thing that makes any surmountable sense. Out of all the pubs in London, they both found their way into this one, and Aaron will not let Robert just…disappear. 

So he pushes through the doors of the pub. It’s quiet here again, the middle of the week on a Wednesday. Exactly seven days ago he’d met Robert here, and instead of running from him like he has from every other guy since Ed, he’s wanting to claw Robert back into his orbit and under his skin. 

Robert’s behind the bar, shining away at some glasses. When the pub door closes behind Aaron, he looks up, and the sight of him standing there has Robert’s mouth opening in a slight gasp. Robert doesn’t look at him for long though. Instead, the glass holds his fancy; the polish of the cloth apparently much more interesting. 

Aaron doesn’t let the snub distract from what he came here to do. He strolls over to the bar and sits down, facing Robert with steel in his gaze. 

“Pint, please?”

Robert visibly swallows a lump in his throat. “You Dingles always did like your lager.”

“We do thanks.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have any wellies lying about,” Robert snaps at him, the ice in his tone knocking Aaron completely off centre. 

Where’s the sly grin and sinful stare? Now Aaron knows who his family is, all of that has suddenly fallen by the wayside?

“Good thing we also drink from pint glasses. And you’ve got plenty of those, don’t you?”

With a tense jaw, Robert grabs a glass and fills it to the top. 

“You always this charming with your customers?” Aaron asks.

Robert nods towards a booth in the corner, the furthest from the bar. “You can have it over there.” 

The ice from Robert’s demeanor is sinking his heart like quicksand. He misses the banter, the teasing, and the laughs. Why does being from Emmerdale suddenly stop those things from happening? 

“Why are you being like this?”

Robert continues focusing on polishing the glass. “Because I’d rather get this over and done with, yeah? I already know the score. You’ve clearly heard of me, which means you’ve heard all the village rumours, and I’m not gonna be privy to someone I barely know judging me before they even know me.”

Aaron nods, his eyes glassy as he takes in Robert’s red, frustrated face. It clearly took a lot for him to say all that, animosity spilling from every pore. There’s a chip on his shoulder so big it would drag Aaron under, yet the other bloke is still standing. 

“I never really pay attention to rumours,” Aaron says.

Robert scoffs, his eyes still focused on the glass that’s long passed polished by now. 

“I don’t,” Aaron reiterates. “If I did, my own ears would be bleeding the number of times I’ve heard my name dragged through mud around that village.”

Robert swallows again. His expression is still like ice, but there’s a pause as if he’s taking in Aaron’s words. 

“I have heard of you,” Aaron says. “From Vic mostly, and she just misses her brother.”

“And Andy?” Robert snarks. The bitterness with which he says the name has Aaron sitting up taller in his chair. 

Aaron presses his lips into a flat line and shrugs. “Not like he’s the greatest bloke either.”

Robert’s face settles slightly, the furrow of his brow lessening. “So what? Next time you go back to Emmerdale, are you gonna tell everyone you’ve seen me?”

Aaron swallows, looks down at the beer mat as he thinks of the last time he set foot in the village two years ago. “I’m never going back,” he says. 

Robert’s brow cinches, this time more in confusion than anything else. “Why not?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” Robert asks. “You get cast out as well?”

Aaron clears his throat. “Cast myself out more like.”

Robert looks at him for a long moment, really taking him in, and then their eyes meet properly for the first time since Aaron sat down at the bar. There’s an understanding in their gazes now, a joint recognition as they see the other for the village pariahs they are. 

“Look. I just came here to say…what we had going on was fun, and I like you. And that hasn’t changed now just because I know your last name. And I hope that goes both ways.”

Robert looks away again, this time picking up a fresh glass to polish. 

“You know where I work if you want to find me.”

Robert nods as he loses himself in his thoughts. He doesn’t look Aaron’s way, even when Aaron gets up and walks out. 

***

The next few days go by, and Robert doesn’t appear at the garage. Aaron tries not to feel disappointed by it. There are obviously a lot of scars beneath Robert’s charming exterior; the walls he’s built up so thick they put even Aaron’s to shame. But there’s a glimmer of hope underneath all Aaron’s disappointment that Rob will show up, will tell him he still wants to see this through — whatever this is. 

Whether it’s just fun, or something more, Aaron is still learning to grapple with. All he does know is that he hasn’t had this much fun with a guy in years. And losing that so soon? Just because they share the same farm dirt in their blood? It doesn’t make sense to him.

Maybe there’s a part of Aaron that appreciates the connection. He can never go home, and by the sounds of things, Robert never wants to. So maybe they’d be able to find a piece of home in each other.

And that line of thinking is terrifying to Aaron. He barely knows Robert. Has only heard the utterances of villagers that never really got to know him either. But he wants to know Robert, wants the chance to learn for himself who the guy really is deep down. 

It’s day four after he went to see Robert at the pub when the other man finally shows up at the garage. The blue hatchback rolls up, just like it did last time, but instead of the great flirt getting out with a coffee cup in hand, he parks up and climbs out of the car with his head hung low. He tosses his car keys between his two hands like they’re something solid to hold onto, and he doesn’t meet Aaron’s eye.

“You’re here,” Aaron says, because to be honest, he thought he’d never see the bloke again. Hope was only getting him so far; the disappointment constantly weighing it down on the scales.  

Robert clears his throat, looking up at Aaron finally with nerves in his eyes. “Nobody in the village knows,” he says.

Aaron cocks a brow, not getting what Robert is saying. 

“About me, I mean. I’m bisexual and nobody in that village knows that, and I never want them to.”

Aaron nods. “Ashamed?” he asks. 

Robert shakes his head. “No,” he says forcefully. “No. I just don’t need to give any of them another reason to judge me.”

“Them?”

“Andy. Katie. My whole family.”

“Your dad?” Aaron asks. 

“He’s dead anyway, so that’s not an issue,” he says. It’s curt as fuck, but Aaron’s not going to hold it against him. Robert’s lips press into a thin line, his face taut. “There’s just a lot of shit and baggage I’m never going to want to face, especially when it comes to him and my brother. So when I heard you were from Emmerdale too? I panicked, alright?”

Aaron shrugs. “Did I ask you to unburden your soul to me?” 

“No,” he says. “But I already feel a connection to you, Aaron. More than I have with anybody in a long time. And I’m scared that—” he pauses. Takes a deep breath. “I’m scared that I’ll want to. I’ll want to unburden my soul to you or… whatever, and I’m gonna have to face a lot of shit I’ve gotten very good at keeping buried.”

Aaron looks at him, sees a man who’s terrified of the brain inside his head, and thinks they have a lot more in common than he ever thought was possible. 

“I’m not gonna push you,” Aaron says. “I’ve not exactly been forthcoming with my baggage either.”

“You have baggage?”

“More than an entire airport baggage claim.”

Robert chuckles at that, and it’s then he meets Aaron’s eyes finally. Green embers flicker at him, and this time they see him more than anybody else has for years. Robert may not know every intricate detail of his life, or what led him to this point, but there’s a levity in knowing that he’s not the only fucked-up person trying to find his way through life. 

“I’m sorry,” Robert says softly. He moves in closer until he’s standing right in front of Aaron. The heat of his body emanates from him, and Aaron can’t help the stutter in his breath. 

“What for?”

“For thinking you would judge me without even knowing me. I guess I just thought…” he trails off, leaving the rest unsaid.

“Emmerdale’s a small village. But we’re not all Betty’s, you know.” 

Robert’s face crinkles into a grin, a chuckle radiating from deep in his chest. “Good old Betty.”

“Is that who you named your car after?”

“Shut up,” Robert says, before moving in and placing his lips against Aaron’s. 

It’s only been a few days since they were last here, doing exactly this, but there’s so much more intensity behind it now. A connection that feels stronger and unflinching that he can now sort of understand. They’re both cut from the same cloth, born into a village that's been both home and hostage. 

He kisses Robert back fiercely, holding on tight to his biceps as Robert cups his face between his hands. Their tongues dance together as they take the other in, and every one of his breaths that Robert devours manages to cut off his oxygen, yet he still feels like he’s dancing on cloud nine. 

They break apart on a gasp for air, their foreheads pressed together firm and right, and Aaron feels like he needs to be even closer to Robert. Which is insane because there’s not even an inch between them. 

“I want you,” Robert utters softly. 

“Then have me,” Aaron says back. 

Robert smirks. “Here?”

“Might as well.”

“What’s your boss gonna say?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

One second later he’s pulling open the backseat door of Robert’s hatchback and pushing him inside. He falls flat on his back across the seat, and Aaron wastes no time in falling on top of him and grinding down with his hips. 

Robert groans beneath him, spreading his legs as far as the tight space allows, all for Aaron to fall into. They push and pull on every bit of clothing they can reach, Aaron navigating his way out of his overalls in a mad clash of elbows, knees, and heads, until he’s got them around his thighs. Robert’s cock is in hand, rubbing hot and heavy against his own. 

“Quickie in the back of a car,” Robert teases. “You really are a Dingle.”

“Thought you said to shut up,” Aaron says, as he works both their cocks. He can’t contain himself as he kisses Robert within an inch of his life, bites down on his lip in an effort to draw a sound from the man beneath him, and feels proud with the grunt he relinquishes. It’s quick and dirty and rushed. It has all the urgency of their first time together, but it’s nowhere near enough for Aaron.

“I’m gonna need you in a bed by the end of the day. I’m not just one and done-ing you in the back of this piece of shit.”

“Stop shitting on Betsy!”

“Really?” Aaron says. “That’s all you can say when I have your cock in my hand right now?”

“Oh, trust me, I’m very well aware.” 

“Are you close?”

“Close enough.”

Aaron smiles. “Then what?”

Robert throws his head back as the pleasure clearly builds and builds for him. Aaron is so close himself, as his strokes turn messy and unrefined, both of them hurtling their way toward their release. 

“Then I’m taking you back to my flat and fucking you for the rest of the evening?”

“Oh,” Aaron says. “Just for the rest of this evening?”

Robert chuckles. “As long as you fucking want me to.”

“Good.” With that he smashes his lips against Robert’s once more, then sends them both flying over the edge with the flick of his wrist. 

***

Later that evening, when they’ve satiated themselves completely, Robert’s got his head to Aaron’s chest as they lay together in bliss. Their breaths have settled now, and they’re both feeling absolutely wrecked, and Aaron never wants to leave this bed. 

“You said before,” Robert broaches then. “That you can never go back. To Emmerdale, I mean. Why is that?”

Aaron swallows a lump in his throat. He knows it’s dangerous to tell him the real reason. But there’s just something about Robert, in how much he feels there’s this unburdened connection between them, where they can understand each other on a fundamental level. He’s never opened up to anyone, not really even to Ed. Jackson had to beg him to open up, and that still took a good year, a train, and a whole lot of trauma.

But with Robert, he can see there’s trauma there too. He sees it in the way his eyes flicker when he doesn’t want to confront it. He can see it in the charming smile that’s used as some kind of force field, protecting him from chaos and heartache and revelling in pain that’s kept him so lonely for so long. 

So maybe that’s why he tells him the truth. 

“If I go back, I go to prison.” 

Robert’s whole body stiffens. “Really?”

Aaron sighs. “I took the wrap for a friend who set the garage on fire. Hotten police have my name on every wall in Yorkshire — at least they did a few years ago. I think they’ve probably stopped looking for me by now, but…that’s why I can never go back.”

“But…your family?”

“I love them,” Aaron says. “And I miss them. But…sometimes it got too suffocating there. I couldn’t handle the stress of feeling like every move I made was being watched like a hawk.”

Aaron looks down at Robert’s face. The recognition in his gaze tells him his own words are resonating with the other man. He’s probably felt a lot of the same. 

“Why’s that?”

Aaron lets out a long breath, feeling some sort of catharsis as he finally spills everything he’s been holding onto, everything he’s kept close to his chest, all by himself, for what feels like an eternity. 

“I helped my boyfriend commit suicide. He was tetraplegic and, even when me and his mum tried making him see that life was still worth living, he didn’t want to stay. So I helped him go.”

Robert tightens his grip around Aaron’s chest, a silent support. Robert has seen his scars. He’s seen them plenty by this point, and he’s still not asked Aaron about them, but Aaron can sense the curiosity coursing through him. 

“I felt so guilty afterwards; I ended up taking it out on myself. Cut myself to shreds.”

Robert raises himself slightly, turning over so he can meet Aaron’s gaze. The sadness in his eyes, the empathy pouring out of him? From anyone else, it’d make Aaron duck and cover. But Robert moves a hand to cup the side of Aaron’s face, and gently wipes a tear from his eye, and suddenly he’s saying even more words. More words he’s probably uttered in years. 

“My mum found out, and it terrified her to death. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want her to worry. So I got myself through counseling and I worked on myself. I found a way to stop.”

“Do you still feel like you want to?” Robert asks, the crack in his voice loud and obvious. 

Aaron sighs. “Not for a long time.”

“Good,” Robert says. Aaron gives him a sad smile. “Is that why you left then? Because the memories got too much?”

Aaron nods. “Yeah, I guess. My mate needed a lifeline, and so I gave him mine.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

Aaron shrugs. “Do you?”

Robert looks away for a moment, as if he’s thinking through the answer. 

“I’m not asking you to unburden your soul,” Aaron says. “Or whatever.”

Robert smiles sadly as he shifts his gaze from Aaron’s eyes down his chest. He’s staring across the scars there like they carry so much weight. So harsh on the outside and heavy on the inside. 

“Sometimes I think I do. But…a lot of my life there is tainted by this feeling that I could never…fit. I never fit in there. But I do miss the people there occasionally; Vic, Diane, my mum…Dad — hell, even sometimes Andy.”

Even though he’s letting Aaron in, there’s still a wall there he can’t seem to knock over. But he’s trying to find his way around it. Aaron can see that much.

“I watched my dad’s funeral from the bridge.”

Aaron lifts a brow. “Really?”

Robert shrugs, swallows his adam’s apple. “Didn’t feel like I could attend without making it about me. My family needed to grieve, and so I stayed back.”

“You grieved alone then?”

Robert releases a heavy breath. “Andy found me. Told me to stay and run the farm. But…”

“You didn’t feel like you fit?”

Robert finally looks at Aaron, his eyes glistening as he takes him in. “The last thing my dad ever said to me was…‘I don’t hate you.’”

Aaron feels his heart clench for the other man. “Wow.”

“That was after he told me to leave the village and never come back.”

Aaron’s throat tightens as he meets Robert’s glassy eyes. They are so all-consuming that he just wishes he could help him unburden everything inside his brain he’s been grappling with for years. 

“I’m so sorry Robert.”

It’s like, now that he’s started, he can’t stop letting it all out, unburdening his soul like he told Aaron he wouldn’t. “I guess I caused it. Me and Andy fighting as much as we were. But he stuck by him through everything. Whereas it felt like I was never good enough in his eyes, always disappointing him, ever since I was 15 and wanted to kiss a boy.”

Aaron sucks in a breath. “So he did know? About you being bi?”

“Pretended like he didn’t,” Robert says. “Always tried to make me see the farm was my legacy, that I should grow up, get a wife and 2.5 kids and work life on the land. But…that’s never been what I wanted. So when he told me to go…I drove off, and have never looked back.”

Aaron doesn’t know what to say. There’s so much to unpack, but he can see on Robert’s face, how he gazes down at Aaron, he needed to say all that. He needed to get it off his chest. There’s a clarity there now, like he’s broken through fog and has come out the other side. 

“I think I’ve learned to reckon with the idea that even though Emmerdale is my home, right now at least…it doesn’t feel like my place in the world.”

Aaron nods. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Sometimes you can love a place and still feel you don’t belong there.”

Robert nods. Then, teary-eyed, he chuckles. “Maybe my place is in a shitty pub in London where some mechanic comes in to bug me every chance he gets.”

Aaron scoffs. “Maybe my place is a garage where a flirt of a bartender comes to bug me any chance he gets.”

“Is that crazy?” Robert asks. “I’ve only known you a couple of days, but I feel like…I feel like you get me more than anybody else ever has.”

“It’s the same for me,” Aaron says. 

Robert presses his forehead to Aaron’s, closes his eyes and takes in a deep, shaky breath. “Do you think Emmerdale will ever feel like home again? If you can ever go back.”

“Maybe…someday,” Aaron says. “Maybe it’ll be like that for both of us.”

Robert hums in agreement, then kisses Aaron again, a silent vow. It’s a promise that though they’re not ready to return to Emmerdale, to the place forever marked in their shared past, where pain was etched in their history so deep and so rooted, this moment holds all the possibility. The possibility that they could find the courage to make it their future, make it their home once again. Definitely not today, definitely not tomorrow but… definitely maybe someday.