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Chapter Text

“Mmm just like that,” Robert fake moans as he pushes back onto the man’s cock to meet in time with his thrusts. Sweat is dripping off the forty something man and onto Robert’s back and he pounds into him. He is moaning freely and gripping his hips a little too tightly. Robert's used to it. He was a regular client, and honestly it was the worst sex Robert has ever had. Each time he was too rough - Robert liked rough if it was done by the right person but this client wasn’t even attractive to Robert so it wasn’t any fun for him. The man changed angle slight and fucking finally he hit Robert’s prostate which earns him a genuine moan of pleasure.

The client sinks a hand into Robert’s hair and pulls, forcing his head back. “You like that?”

“Yes,” Robert groans as he keeps hitting his prostate. “Ri-Right there.” He kept up his brutal pace, over and over hitting Robert’s prostate. Robert reaches down to stroke himself until he comes with a deep panting groan all over the hotel pillows.

“Fuck!” The man curses as he comes inside Robert, filling up the condom he's wearing. He collapses over Robert and pulls out with a wet popping sound. He rolls over onto his back, chuckling to himself. Robert sat back on his knees so he didn’t fall into his pool of come on the pillows. He gave his client a playful grin. “Goddamn Robert, you’re definitely worth the money I pay for you.”

Robert tried not to grimace. It's like this with all his clients - well excluding one very special client. Yes, he knows he’s a prostitute and that means the clients are allowed to treat him as such, but Robert is still a human being. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Geoff,” Robert says and climbs from the hotel bed. He walks over to the adjoining bathroom, and feels around on the wall for the light switch. He flicks it on and steps inside to look in the mirror. “Goddammit,” he mutters as he touches a bruise on the side of his neck. “You marked me again!” He calls out.

Robert has two rules: No kissing on the mouth, and no markings on his body. Kissing is too intimate, and the last thing he wants is a stranger's lips on his. Marking on his body - hickeys, bruises from fingers , hand prints on his arse - if they liked to spank him during. Those things are a no no, because it ruins the illusion for other clients. Ones like Geoff who gets off on the thought of being with a prostitute didn’t care, because he treats him just what Robert is - a whore. But then Robert has clients who wanted a different experience. One where it feels real, more intimate; showing up covered in someone else’s hickeys and bruises ruins that illusion. Either way Robert ends with an envelope full of cash in his hand when it was all said and done.

“Sorry,” Geoff says, his voice conveying just how not sorry he is. “Can’t help but get out of hand when I’m with you.” Robert could have gagged. Instead he put on a trademark smirk, and turns to face the naked man standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

He looks him up and down, slowly, seductively. It was the way they all wanted to be looked at; like they were truly wanted. His body wasn’t very fit, not anymore at least. Old age has seen to that. Skin not so taught as youth provides, waist not so slender, muscles losing their structure. It came from sitting at home, eating too much, and not taking care of yourself properly. Robert spent three hours a day at the gym to keep himself fit for his clients - no one wants to fuck a fat prostitute; unless they were into that sort of thing.

But it doesn't matter what the client looks like. It is Robert’s job to make them feel sexy, wanted, needed. So he puts an arm around the man, pulls his body against his own and places a kiss to his neck. “Just be more careful next time.” He pushes past into the hotel bedroom to get dressed.

Once he finishes lacing up his trainers and slipping on his expensive leather jacket, did a hand slip into his, that wasn't empty. A white envelope was pushed into his palm, and though Robert loves money, he hates the way it is given to him. Geoff pushes the envelope into his hands, letting the action say, “here you whore. This is what your worth.”

Robert is offended but he didn't get his back up. He curls his hand around the envelope, gives him a seductive smile and whispers, “Until next time.” he practically rips the envelope out of his hands and makes a B-line for the door, trying to get away before Geoff says something. He wasn't fast enough. “See you soon.” He says smugly, more smug than Robert could ever muster.

“Sure,” Robert says before opening the door and letting it shut loudly behind him. He took the bus home, trying not to think about the way his arse feels stretched and battered.

He made it home to his tiny, messy flat, and strips his clothes off as soon as the front door shuts behind him. Robert calls his flat economical - but it was all he could afford. He gets paid well - even after his pimp Giles takes a cut. It still isn't enough for a penthouse or anything with a killer view of the city. He doesn't complain, because he could have ended up like the rent boys who worked the city streets of Leeds. When Robert would walk home he’d stop by the avenue sometimes- where most of the prostitutes work, and hand out money to some of them - even though he knows most of it goes to drugs, but there were times he knew the money goes to food, clothing, or shelter for that night. He feels lucky - lucky that he didn’t end up like that, sucking cock for a tenner a pop to buy a small rock of crystal to drop into a glass pipe and get high. Lucky that his clients don't treat him like trash because they thought of him as desperate. Robert was lucky to have found Giles.

He’d been nineteen when he was forced out from his home by his father. Being alone was scary - something Robert still hates to this day. No money, no skills - unless you count slinging bales of hay and fixing tractors. Robert didn’t have a clue how to survive in the city. His money ran out, and luckily - he never stops counting his fucking lucky stars - did he meet Giles. He’d taken a liking to Robert as he stood out on the avenue; looking thin from hunger and worn out from sleeping on the streets. He offered him a meal and a warm bed - not even asking for anything in return. He took it - would have taken anything by that point. Giles offered him even more the next day. Steady pay, a select list of clients who wouldn’t abuse him, and all the extra perks the clients would give him. Clothes, tips, even fucking jewelry. All of it was Robert’s to keep as long as he earned it properly. Robert would have done anything to get off the streets, and the deal Giles was offering was like a fucking godsend. The only thing Giles asked for was that he never got fucked over by Robert. Not once in the eight years Robert had worked for him had he fucked Giles over - and honestly he couldn’t imagine doing so.

The water from his shower was scalding hot, but he didn’t mind. It was the only way he felt clean after having sold his body. The water burned against his skin, he scrubbed and scrubbed until he felt new again, and there were no traces of Geoff left, After his shower he slips on a pair of sweatpants - without any underwear - and a soft cotton t-shirt. He warms up yesterday's Chinese take away, flips on the telly to a sitcom program and ate the Lo Mein noodles as he watched it. Three beers in and two episodes later did he get the call. He was supposed to have the evening off. Giles had promised that his only appointment had been set for that afternoon and that was it. When he read his name on his phone screen as it shrilly buzzed over and over, did he groan. He honestly almost let it go to voicemail, but thought better of it. “You better be calling to congratulate me on job well fucking done,” Robert threatens.

“Lover Boy’s back in town,” he says silkily. The words alone made Robert’s heart pound. It had been two weeks since he’d been with him, and he tried so goddamn hard not even to think about him - Lover Boy as Giles so wittingly calls him. The only time Robert let himself think about that client was when he was alone in bed, and had his hands beneath the covers and wrapped around his long hard cock as he pictured Lover Boy’s lips wrapped around him, or having himself buried balls deep inside him.

“And?” Robert says as if he doesn’t care even though he could now taste his pulse on his tongue.

“He’s offering a substantial amount for one hour. I told him I’d ask if you’re up for it, but something tells me I don’t really need confirmation.” Robert wants to tell him to fuck off, but the way his cock twitches at the thought of being with said client drowns out any snappy retort he has prepared.

“I can be there in an hour. Let him know,” Robert hung up without a goodbye. He changes into his street clothes; soft cotton boxer briefs underneath a pair of tight jeans, royal blue jumper, and his leather jacket over it. He spent an extra ten minutes making sure his hair was just right and then he puts on the cologne he knows this client likes. He laces up his trainers, grabs his wallet and keys to his flat. He locks the door behind him.

He has to take the bus because the walk to his client's flat is too far a walk. He sat beside some old woman who has burlap tote bags full of groceries, and she has a coupon book in her hand, marking the pages as she wants for later use. She looks up and catches him staring. He turns away real fast, trying to act like hadn't just been caught snooping.

“Do you like salt and vinegar crisps?” Robert looks over at the old woman. She's smiling kindly at him and tipping the coupon book towards him so he could see the picture of the bag of crisps.

“Uh yeah I do,” he mumbles. What a weird fucking question. He thinks.

“My grandson won't eat them and I myself can't stand them. How about I give you the voucher?” She rips out the coupon before Robert could say anything and hands it to him. “Enjoy.” She smiles warmly at him and the bus stopped and she gets off.

Robert stares at the coupon before tucking it into his pocket. He smiles the rest of the bus trip.

The building is huge and made of limestone. Robert punches the button next to his client’s flat number. It buzzes and he waits a second before his deep, gravelly voice came through on the intercom. “Who is it?” Like you don’t already know.

“It’s me,” was all Robert said, knowing his voice would be recognized.

“Come on up,” the door buzzed and Robert pulls the door open. He walks into the lobby of the flat and walks swiftly to the elevator, pushing the call button to bring the elevator down to the bottom floor. It took a minute before it dinged and the silver doors open smoothly. He climbs on and hits the button for the top floor. He smoothes out his shirt and made sure the collar of his jacket is lying flat. The doors open again and he walks out into the hallway. He walks to the very end of it and knocks on the door of the only flat on the level.

He tries to ignore the way his heart starts pounding even before the door opens. The knob turns and the door flew open to reveal Aaron. He looked tired, overworked, and his ocean blue eyes have a glaze in them like they always did from the expensive scotch he drinks like it's water. He's dressed in white sweatpants - which is odd because Robert was used to him being in a suit - and he has a forest green jumper on. He's also barefoot. Aaron has his hand to his ear, and Robert looks closer to see a phone in his hand.

Aaron smiles and motions him in with his free hand. “Well why wasn’t I told of this sooner?” His voice is harsh, and aggravated at whoever he was speaking with. Robert walks into his large flat. The cool tones of white and light blue are calming - which is ironic because Aaron was rarely ever calm. The sun is almost down and he can see the orange and pink painted sunset sky through the large picture windows that are curtainless. The sliding glass doors that lead out to his balcony are open, and a warm evening summer breeze is pouring in.

Robert kicks his shoes off by the door, stripping himself of his jacket to hang on the hook by the door as well - Aaron always asks him to take his shoes off and by now he did it on instinct without having to be told. His feet sunk into the plush white carpet as he made his way over to the sofa. Aaron was still growling at the person on the other end of the phone line. There's a decanter of expensive scotch on the table, and next to it is a half full tumbler of the scotch on ice.

Aaron nudges past him to grab the glass, and he downs the amber liquid in one go. He pours more into the glass and offers it to Robert, who declines with a shake of his head. Aaron shrugs and takes a big gulp of the scotch. Robert doesn't say anything - it wasn't his place to - but he honestly thinks Aaron drinks too much. Then again it's not his business; his job was just to fuck him, not give a damn about anything else. This was the problem when it comes to Aaron. Robert looks at his job as black and white. Black is his job - get in, do it right, get paid, and get out. You don’t get involved, you don’t ask questions, and you give the client what they want. Once you got the payout you didn’t exist to them and they didn’t exist to you. Most of all you don’t develop feelings. The white is his personal life. Whether it's going out with his mates, paying his bills, staying in for the night, his family - well at least the one sister who spoke to him, and his past, present, and future are not up for discussion, and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about his clients.

Except for when it comes to Aaron. With him the black and white merges and becomes a gray area that mixes professional with personal. He tries to keep it professional, but he often finds himself asking questions, wanting to know more about Aaron. There is just something so captivating about the younger man; from his cynical comments about life, to his mardy personality, and then those rare moments where he’d curve those beautiful lips into a beaming smile that steals Robert’s breath away each sparse time he did it. Honestly Robert tries to keep the distance and be professional, but when his heart’s pounding so loud in his ears with Aaron’s lips so tantalizingly close as they lay in his bed wrapped up in each other, both with a post coital high, and the only thought running through Robert’s mind is just how oh so kissable they look; things get muddled, lines get crossed, and feelings begin to emerge.

Like now. Aaron’s voice is getting lower and angrier by the second making Robert unhappy that whoever Aaron was speaking to is upsetting him. He shouldn’t have to get angry like that, not when he should be smiling and sitting on Robert’s lap while he caresses every inch of his glorious virile body. Robert frowns and takes the glass of scotch out of his hand, placing it on the table, and pulling Aaron by his arm so he was sitting in his lap. Aaron looks surprised for a moment before giving him a shy smile that made Robert’s blood run hot and pump faster through his veins to the point where he feels like he might explode. He leant in and ran his nose over his beard covered jawline; inhaling the ever clean smell of him with earthy undertones that are undeniably, erotically, all Aaron.

Aaron tilts his head somewhat to the side to give Robert a better angle as he continues to run his nose along his jawline and then down over the sinewy muscles in his neck. He's giving off these little whispers of sighs that have Robert melting into his skin as if neither of them are wearing clothes. “I have to go,” Aaron says suddenly, his voice a little breathless. “Don’t call me again tonight.” He throws his phone down on the table and looks deep into Robert’s blue green eyes and he feels almost as if he's drowning in Aaron’s own ocean blue ones. “Did you miss me?” He asks as his warm scotch scented breath ghosts over Robert’s lips making his mouth water. Here it was again; that chance to steal a kiss and claim Aaron’s mouth as his own. Mold those luscious lips that Aaron’s stretched around his cock more than a fair few times to his. But he couldn’t - wouldn’t - cross that line because he has no clue what the repercussions would be.

Normally Robert would answer that question with some sexy innuendo but here he was crossing that line into the gray area and he answers honestly. “Yes.” It was honest, fervent in such the way he said it that made it is almost immorally shameless. God help him but Robert doesn't even care.

“Good,” Aaron said and starts kissing his neck; letting his hands wander over Robert’s sweater clad chest. Robert leant his head back while running a hand up the inside of his thigh and squeezing at the meaty flesh as his other hand cups the back of Aaron’s neck; encouraging him to keep kissing and sucking at his skin. Robert moans slightly as Aaron finds the pressure point in his neck and bites down lightly - not enough to mark him but enough to make Robert keen.

Aaron licks along his clean skin, tasting the natural saltiness and something that is just Robert. His hands slip under his shirt to feel the soft skin of his stomach underneath rough hands that had developed from past hard labors. Robert loves the skin of his hands, the callouses that never healed properly to let Robert know that Aaron had once got down and dirty with his hands. Now he was a multimillionaire businessman, pencil pushing, tailored suit wearing, mogul. Robert wasn’t exactly sure what Aaron does for a living - thinking it was too personal to know even though he spent most nights awake wondering what he did all day. What he did know however is whatever he did he made tonnes of money doing it. Oh and he knew that Aaron had inherited the business from his father after he was sentenced to prison when Aaron was fifteen - and he started working the company at the age of eighteen. Robert never asked why his father had gone to prison - family was that line of too personal - not to mention the one time Aaron had said anything about it his eyes went dark and Robert was sure he saw a volume of pain in his eyes that he himself couldn’t even imagine what could have put that look into those beautiful blue orbs. .

Aaron pulls Robert’s blue jumper off in one swift movement and throws it over the sofa, it lands with a soft thud against the carpet. He runs his hands down the pale freckle dusted skin of his torso, fingernails digging in at his belly making Robert squirm. He rubs his thumb over his left nipple then brings the digit to his mouth and licks the soft pad of his skin before rubbing it back over his nipple and feeling it harden underneath his thumb. Robert bit his bottom lip to help keep back his groan as Aaron pinches the nipple in between his thumb and first finger, rolling the nub between them.

“You wanna do me?” Robert asks as Aaron situates himself in his lap so he was straddling Robert’s lap instead of sitting on it.

“No,” was his simple answer that makes Robert’s heart palpitate erratically and it only gets worse as Aaron leans down to lick and suck on his nipples, nipping at them with his teeth every now and then to the point it has Robert squirming around in his seat as he feels his cock start to swell in his jeans. It was effortless with Aaron. With other clients he has to work up to it, make himself feel something, and sometimes it took him for ever to get hard but with Aaron one touch from his warm hands or his hot wet mouth can make him hard as stone in three seconds flat. Robert slips his hands past the elastic waistband of his sweats to grab at his arse, smirking to himself as he discovers Aaron is wearing nothing underneath them. He kneads the firm flesh making Aaron moan around his nipple.

“You're so good,” Robert whispers as Aaron kisses his way up his chest to his neck, licking across his Adam's apple, all the way to his chin and he kisses right below his lips. It's so close, too close, close enough to make every inch of Robert shiver. Robert thrust his hips up to create friction between their clad crotches making him toss his head back and moan. He repeats the process until Aaron is shoving his face into Robert’s neck, whimpering and digging his nails into the skin of his biceps as he rubs their hard ons together.

“Fuck me,” Aaron pants against his neck. “Fuck me, please.” Robert doesn’t have to be told twice. He gently pushes Aaron away who takes the hint to stand up, with Robert following him, and he grips the hem of Aaron’s shirt to pull it over his head and toss it onto the sofa. He snakes an arm around Aaron’s waist and pulls him flush against his chest, skin contact making both of them shudder. Robert attaches his lips to his neck as he presses fingers into his back while Aaron starts unbuttoning his jeans.

They start walking backwards, keeping a hold on one another going slowly so as not to trip. Aaron’s arms wrap around his waist as his lips find Robert’s neck. Robert has a good clue where he's going even though he's walking backwards and he’s feeling flustered as Aaron sucks and licks on his neck. His skin is on fire already and he’s surprised they both haven't burst into flames from the intensity of it. They stop and Robert takes the opportunity to turn them around to slam Aaron against a wall in the hallway that leads to his bedroom. He uses one hand to pin Aaron’s wrists above his head; watching with delight as Aaron smirks at the control he's exuding over him, the blueness of his eyes almost gone from how blown they are with lust. He palms Aaron’s dick through the softness of his sweats watching his face as he bites down on his bottom lip and closes his eyes, a low moan escaping him at the pleasure Robert’s hand is causing.

“You like that?” Robert asks teasingly, knowing Aaron enjoys every second of it. He licks the palm of his hand and slips it past the waistband of his sweats to grab hold of his hot swollen cock.

“Oh God,” Aaron moans and lets his eyes slip closed as Robert begins to pump his cock slowly, so slowly it was almost maddening. He strokes him while biting down on his neck and savors each noise of satisfaction coming from Aaron. Robert pumps his shaft until he starts leaking precum over his hand and it starts creating a wet patch through his sweats. He pulls his hand out, keeping eye contact with Aaron as he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks the precum off them.

“Mmm,” he moans from the salty taste of Aaron. It was so good, so delicious, and he needed more - craved more. He drops to his knees, pulls down his sweats to release Aaron's red swollen cock straining towards his stomach and leaking. He licks his lips, grips his thighs tightly, and takes just the tip in his mouth to suck the head and swallow the built of precum. Aaron groans harshly and his head slams back into the wall as his hands tangle into Robert’s soft hair. Robert lets off his cock to lick his length underneath all the way to the hilt and to his balls where he starts to mouth at them. He takes one of his heavy testicals into his warm wet mouth, rolling it around as his hand fists his cock quickly, adding a twisting motion with every other stroke. He pulls off with an obscene wet popping sound and switches to his other testical, repeating the process.

“Christ!” Aaron cries as his hands tug at Robert’s hair, roughly while he thrusts into Robert’s hand. Robert lets the ball slip out of his mouth and smiles up at Aaron the sight of him making his own dick twitch against the denim of his jeans. Aaron's sweating, making his skin glisten in the light of the hallway. He looks down at Robert through hooded, blow out, eyes, lips are red and swollen from the way he’s been biting them through the pleasure Robert’s been giving him.

Robert’s cock aches against the confines of his jeans and he pushes down on his erection hoping to relieve some of the discomfort. He kisses the inside of Aaron’s left thigh, licking at the meaty flesh, before taking Aaron’s cock into his mouth and swallowing him down to the base, his nose brushing against his soft pubic hair.

“Fucking hell,” Aaron exclaims loudly as Robert bobs his head up and down on his cock, while his other hand cups his balls, massaging them with his fingers. He takes him down again, holding him in his throat for as long as he could. Aaron’s legs are shaking from the feel of being deep in Robert’s throat, the tightness and heat making him want to blow his load right now. “Mother - fuck! Fuck!” Robert pulls off, using his hand to keep Aaron making those phonographic noises as he catches his breath. His mouth is coated in Aaron’s thick precum and he swallows before deep throating Aaron’s cock again. “Don’t stop,” Aaron begs as Robert begins a rhythm with his mouth, taking him deep and then pulling until only the tip was left in before swallowing his cock back down to the hilt.

Aaron couldn’t take it and when Robert takes him down to the base again, Aaron grips his head tight and starts thrusting deep into his throat. Robert relaxes his jaw, letting Aaron fuck his face. Robert struggles to push his jeans and boxers down around his thighs to release his painfully hard cock. Eventually he gets them down and he’s able to grip his own cock and jerks himself to the rhythm of Aaron thrusting his cock into his throat. He holds Robert’s head down so his dick is buried in his throat again and Robert makes sure to breathe deep through his nose so he doesn’t suffocate. Aaron pushes Robert’s head away - a trail of saliva and precum dripping off his cock as Robert’s mouth disappears from him. Robert wipes at his chin to rid the drool that had leaked out, and begins kissing Aaron’s hip bones, massaging his skin all over with his hands while he works his way to lick along his waistline and over the thin jagged scars that criss cross across his abdomen.

Robert never asks about those, it isn’t his place to - even though everytime he sees them his curiosity eats away at him. The first couple of times they fucked Aaron had kept his shirt on - Robert never questioning it - but after about their fifth time did he finally feel comfortable enough with Robert to remove his shirt. Robert had only let his eyes linger on them for a moment before he’d dropped to his knees to give Aaron one of the best blowjobs of his life. Now they were old news to Robert, even if he didn’t know how Aaron had received the scars. He kisses his way up his to Aaron’s neck, before stepping away and stripping himself of his jeans and boxers, then takes Aaron by the hand to lead him into his bedroom.

It has the same feel as the living room. Soft comforting colors that feel like home. He pushes Aaron down onto his king sized bed, crawling onto the bed and over him. He runs his hands over Aaron’s body slowly, taking in every ounce of the younger man's body, letting his eyes devour him. “You gonna fuck me now?” Aaron’s words make Robert smile devilishly down at him.

“Have you been a good boy? I only fuck good boys.” Robert leant down so his torso was pressed against Aaron’s, the heat of their skin almost unbearable. “Tell me you’ve been good,” Robert whispers above his lips, not so they’re touching but so that Aaron can feel his hot breath on his own lips.

“I’ve been good,” Aaron whispers so innocently it almost enough to make Robert come. Robert hadn’t expected that, normally Aaron would have just told him to fuck off or have some other colorful retort ready for him but this was incredible. Incredible and super fucking hot.

“Show me how good you are,” Robert tells him. Aaron grips Robert by the back and uses his muscles in his legs to flip them over so he’s on top. He takes of hold of Robert’s cock and starts stroking him while he peppers kisses all over his face, being careful not to touch Robert’s lips. “Oh don’t stop that,” Robert keens and digs his nails into Aaron’s back. He slides one hand down to his arse and dips his finger into his crack, massaging his fingers against his perineum before pushing against his hole with a digit. Aaron stops his work on Robert’s cock long enough to lean over to his bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube, and give it to the older man who proceeds to pour some onto his fingers as Aaron starts jerking him again.

Robert’s finger finds his hole again, he swirls the lube around the puckered skin making Aaron jerk from the coldness. He hisses slightly as Robert pushes his finger all the way into the knuckle. “You’re tight,” Robert says as he works the finger in and out of his hole. He works a second one into him and smiles when he knows he's found that bundle of nerves that is his prostate from the long drawn moan Aaron punches out. Aaron let's go of his cock to tangle his hands into the bed sheets and pushes back on Robert's long fingers.

Robert pushes down on that magical spot and rubs until Aaron's an incoherent mess on top of him, and he's grinding his hard on against Robert's thigh over and over. He scissors his fingers inside to make sure Aaron is nice and open before pulling out, and rolling them back over so he's on top again. He reaches over to the bedside table to grab one of Aaron's condoms. rips the packet open with his teeth, and rolls it over his hard dick.

He pushes Aaron's legs up so they're resting on his shoulders as he lines himself up with his hole, and shoves the head of his cock inside the hot, tight, velvety, warmness that is Aaron. “Fuck,” they both grunt at the same time. He pushes in and pulls Aaron by his hips, down onto his cock at same time until he's buried deep inside. “So fucking tight,” Robert gasps.

“Two weeks,” Aaron pants and clenches around the large cock inside him. Robert smirks to himself knowing the last time Aaron had been fucked it had been by him.

“This sweet arse should not go unfucked for two weeks,” he says and slaps his bum softly, his words making Aaron chuckle.

Robert's sweating already. His head light and airy from just how tight and warm Aaron is. He can feel the walls of Aaron's arse contracting around his cock and he has to force himself not to come as he catches his breath. Aaron crosses his ankles behind Robert's head, and pushes back further onto his cock, silently letting Robert know it's time to move.

Robert places one hand on his abdomen to steady himself as his other hand grips his thigh, and pulls out until only the tip of his dick is left in and slams hard back into Aaron. Aaron's groaning messily as Robert begins to fuck into him, a little slow at first but with some encouragement from Aaron to go faster does he really start to fuck into him.

“Yeah, just like that. Fuck right there. Harder!” His encouragements get more garbled as Robert's cock continues to relentlessly drag across his prostate.

“Fuck you're so good baby,” Robert says and he's not too sure where the sentiment came from but it didn't feel wrong passing his lips, and since Aaron didn't say anything he figured it hadn't bothered him either. Aaron's legs slip off from around his neck to wrap around his waist, and Robert surges forward to plant his hands at the side of his head. He so close to his face and he stares at Aaron's lips and the temptation to steal a kiss is overwhelming and he's sure he would have if Aaron hadn't spoken.

“I'm gonna come!” Robert reaches between them to grip his pulsating cock and jerks him quickly. Aaron practically screams out Robert's name, arches his back, curls his hands into the sheets until his knuckles turn white as he comes thick hot ropes over Robert's fist onto his stomach.

Watching Aaron orgasm is enough to send Robert over the edge. He pushes deep once more into Aaron and his body stills as he shudders through his orgasm, filling the condom. His arms are shaking so badly and he can't hold himself up anymore and he collapses against Aaron, who immediately wraps his arms around his back.

“Fuck that was good,” Aaron says as Robert nuzzles into his neck. “Two weeks is too long. I'll have to take you with me next time.” Robert tenses at this, not sure if Aaron's being serious or not. He could do that, pay enough to keep Robert as his for two weeks, and while Robert loves the idea he wasn't sure if it was such a good idea.

He was already infatuated with him enough, God knows what two weeks alone with this man would do to him. “Could you - could you move?” Aaron asks as he squirms around Robert’s cock.

“Oh yeah sorry,” Robert pulls out and rolls off of Aaron. He removes the condom and tosses it into the mini dustbin Aaron keeps in his room next to his bedside table. He watches as Aaron cleans himself up with some tissues and leans over to clean up Robert’s abdomen from where his come had spread onto him, then threw them in the dustbin. Aaron gets up and disappears out the door.

Robert looks at the digital clock on the wall and sees his hour is almost up, and he doesn't want to go, hasn't had enough. He doesn't move, but situates himself so he's sitting up against the headboard and places a couple pillows behind him so he's more comfortable. It was odd how comfortable he is in Aaron's home. Most of his clients like to meet at hotels, but he has the occasional few that invited him to their homes. He was always awkward in them, feeling out of place especially with the services he was rendering them. But Aaron's home is peaceful, a little plain, but Robert likes it that way. No overcrowding photos of family to line the walls to make Robert feel out of place, no pieces of ugly art work. He does have lots of plants, but Robert had inspected them once to discover they were all fake.

“I don't have time to take of real plants but I like the look of them.” He had explained when Robert had been caught examining a fake ficus in his living room.

Aaron came back in the bedroom carrying a full glass of scotch and a beer he hands to Robert. “Thank you,” he says and twists the cap off. “How was Japan?”

“Alright. Didn't do any sightseeing or anything, mainly sat in meetings and schmoozed. They gave me this though for signing the contracts,” and he leaves the room to return seconds later carrying a plant. “It's a bonsai tree, someone must have told them I like plants; what they didn't tell them is I like fake plants. It's a shame it'll most likely die.”

He sets the miniature tree in an oriental pot on the bed. Robert thinks it's beautiful and that it will be shane when it dies. “You want it?” Aaron asks.

“Really?” Robert says as he runs his hand along the smooth pot of the plant.

“Yeah. Take it. It keeps me from having to watch it die,” and so you don't have to remind yourself you work 24/7 as well. Ugh not your business Robert! Robert shakes his head, feeling annoyed with himself and Aaron takes it the wrong way. “You don't want it? That's okay, I mean you don't have to have it, just thought you might like it.”

“No!” Robert says quickly and pulls the plant towards him. “I like it. I'll take good care of it.” Aaron smiles and drinks deep from the glass, half of the amber liquid disappearing into his mouth. Robert puts the undrunk beer on the nightstand, pushes the plant away and scoots to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over so he’s feet are planted on the floor. His hands grip Aaron’s hips and he pulls him to him. “However will I say thank you?” Aaron smiles down at him as Robert starts kissing his hip bone, along his waistline, letting his tongue run over the “V” line of his pelvic muscle.

“Afraid you’ll have to thank me next time,” Aaron says. Robert looks up at him, trying not to frown. “I have work to do.”

“Oh,” the word was filled with disappointment as it slips past Robert’s lip. Two weeks for one hour wasn’t enough for him, and he knew it wasn’t enough for Aaron either. “Uh well, until next time then.” He kisses his abdomen once more and pushes Aaron away so he can stand up - taking the bonsai tree with him, and walks out of the room - gathering his stray clothes as he goes along. It doesn’t normally take him this long to get dressed, but he takes his time - all the while feeling Aaron’s eyes on him.

After he finishes pulling his blue jumper on does he turn back to Aaron, walks over and oddly enough feels a little shy. He wants to ask when he’ll see him again but it’s not his place to know, but just to be there. “See you soon,” he whispers and leans to kiss his cheek, the corners of their mouths barely brushing together.

“Yeah,” Aaron nods when Robert pulls away. “It’s by the door.”

“Okay, bye.” He grabs the bonsai tree where he’d placed so he could have his hands free to get dressed then walks to the door, slipping his shoes and jacket on. There’s a small wooden antique table by the door where Aaron places his mail inside a wicker basket, and there on top of his mail is plain envelope with Robert’s name written in black marker.

He doesn’t want it, doesn’t really need it. What he gives Aaron he wants to give it for free, wants Aaron to take it for free, but this wasn’t a movie. This is real life and Robert isn’t Vivian Ward from Pretty Woman and Aaron sure as hell isn’t his Edward Lewis about to sweep him off his feet and take him to the fucking opera and fuck him on top of pianos - well maybe that last part if he owned a piano - but either way it wasn’t a fairytale. Robert’s a Rent Boy - has been since he was nineteen. It’s what’s he good at, what he knows how to do. So he reaches into the wicker basket and curls his hand around the envelope and shoves it deep into his pocket.

He waves to Aaron and walks out the door, the sound of the lock turning still ringing in his ears as he steps out into the street, the air chilly now with the sun gone. He tucks the bonsai tree under his arm so he can zip up his jacket, then walks to the bus stop and waits for it to arrive to take him home.

Chapter Text

It was a week before he had another appointment to meet with Aaron. On Monday morning he went to the gym with a fellow coworker - aka another rent boy - named Charles. They worked out for a couple hours, hit the showers, and went to have breakfast at a cheap diner in their neighborhood. Charles was in the middle of telling Robert about his last client who was in the geriatric group and his teeth had fallen out in the middle of him pounding into the older man, when the door to the diner opened and Giles walked in.

The diner was a local hotspot for all of Giles’ prostitutes. Even the employees who worked the diner know what they do. “So I'm close to coming, and I'm really giving it to him hard when bam! His teeth fall out. It was - oh god it was disturbing.”

'What did you do?” Robert asks around his laughing. His oldest client is Geoff who's forty-seven and nothing like that has ever happened to him - thank God.

“What do you think I did? I kept going.” Robert was still laughing when Giles joined them, sliding into the seat next to Charles.

“Pay day boys,” he says and discreetly pulls out two envelopes and distributing them. “There's a little more in there for you Robert than usual. Lover Boy tipped you nice.” Robert nods, not liking the idea of Aaron paying more than necessary. The bonsai tree he'd given was tip enough - it's currently sitting on the window seal in Robert's bedroom. He had to buy a book to learn how to take care of it. Fucking thing's high maintenance. It would have definitely died in Aaron's care.

“Lover Boy huh?” Charles asks with a smirk. “Sounds serious Robert.”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, and wants to groan when he feels his face heat up. They all knew Aaron is Robert's favorite, and Robert is Aaron's. A couple months ago Robert had gone camping with some mates when Aaron had called for his services. Giles had offered to send someone else over but Aaron had been very adamant about not being interested in the other rent boys. Robert still gets butterflies when he thinks about it.

“Oh come on Rob,” he says and takes a bite of his eggs. “We all have our favorites. For example, mine’s Jeanine. Fat arse, killer legs, boobs that beg to be motorboated, and best of all filthy fucking rich.” Robert rolls his eyes, all the clients are rich. Giles’ boys don't do cheap and sleazy. Charles - like Robert - is bisexual which expanded their clientele. Robert had only one woman client, a rich posh woman by the name of Chrissie. He still couldn't figure out why a beautiful woman like her has to pay for it - but he never asks so the curiosity weighed on his mind.

“Rich or not, you're not there to fall in love,” Giles says with a pointed look at both of them. “Do the job you're paid to do.”

“Yes sir,” Charles says for both him and Robert. Robert doesn't say anything because the feelings he has got Aaron may not be love but they are something close to it. Giles is staring at him as if he can read the emotions playing across Robert's face. He looks down at his plate to hide his eyes.

“Damian wants to meet at six tonight,” he tells Robert who proceeds to groan.

“Not him,” he whines.

“What's wrong with him?” Charles asks around the piece of toast he just bit into.

“He's a spitter,” Giles says before Robert can answer. He'd told him after his first time with Damian about it.

“A what?” Charles asks.

“A spitter,” Robert says. “He has a lisp and whenever we're doing it and he starts to talk he spits all over me. It's the biggest turn off.”

“No the biggest turnoff is when you literally fuck your client's teeth out,” Charles reminds him.

“At least he wasn't blowing you and they got stuck on your dick,” they were still laughing when their waitress brought them the cheque.

----

On Tuesday Robert went to the gym again, this time alone. He kept noticing how the woman who worked the juice bar kept eye fucking him as he ran the treadmill. He threw her a flirty smile and wondered how hard it would be to get her panties.

After the gym he walked down to the avenue where the other prostitutes worked. It was early but some of the eager - and desperate - ones were out. He talked to a few, gave money to some, and gave an old set of clothes to a younger looking lad who it seemed hadn't changed his clothes in months. He was about to leave when he spotted Connor.

The first time he ever spoke to Connor he'd taken quite a liking to the younger man. He was cute, very flirty, and had a bit of the cocky attitude Robert exhibited. “Hey you,” he said as he leant against a metal street sign pole. “Was wondering when you'd show your face around here again.”

“You doin' alright Connor?” Robert asks. He's a bit dirty, a little thin, and the look in his eyes tells Robert he's a little high.

“As good as a whore can be,” Connor shrugs. “Give handouts to the desperate again?”

“Let me help you Connor?” Robert says. He's tried with Connor before, but every time he turns down the money.

“Don't need it,” Connor lies. “Doing very well for myself. Got tested last week at the free clinic, still clean.” Robert frowns. He gets tested regularly just incase - he never fucks without a rubber but this day in age you can never be too careful, but for Connor to think that the only good thing in his life is staying clean is sad to Robert.

“It's just some money,” Robert says and reaches into his pocket.

“I don't take handouts,” Connor's tone sounds aggravated. “Let me earn it and then we'll talk.” Robert shakes his head, not interested in getting a blowjob in a alleyway for a tenner.

“No thank you,” he says politely. “But I'll keep trying with you.”

“Don't bother,” Connor growls and walks off to stand somewhere else away from Robert.

----

On Wednesday Robert skips the gym. He has no clients to meet with today so he decided to stay in a do some housework he's neglected. He cleans his apartment in a couple hours, and takes care of his new plant. While he's doing so he wonders where Aaron is and why he hasn't called yet. He supposes that Aaron had another impromptu business trip he had to take care of. It still didn't stop Robert from missing him.

That night he goes out with a couple mates to a local club. He ends up getting hammered and fucking some woman in the bogs. She tasted like cigarettes and Bacardi. He could still taste it on his tongue the next morning.

----

On Thursday he skips the gym again because of his hangover but agrees to have breakfast with Charles at the diner. “Mate you look like death,” Charles says as he slides into the booth with him. “How pissed did you get?”

“A lot,” Robert mumbles as a waitress comes by with a menu and a pot of coffee. She pours him some and smiles kindly at him. He didn't recognize her which meant she didn't know about profession.

“You working later?” Charles asks.

“Yeah I've got a client this evening,” he says without too many details. It's with Chrissie, and honestly with the hangover and the exhaustion that comes with it, he wasn't looking forward to it.

“Damn,” Charles mutters as Robert drink the coffee.

“What is it?”

“I've got a client meeting later who wants a threesome. Giles said if I can't find another rent boy to work with me then he would have to do it for me. He says it'll most likely be Joel.”

“Ugh. I'm sorry mate,” Robert says sympathetically. Joel is one of the more temperamental rent boys Giles has on payroll. Once after he'd spent some time huffing glue he went to fuck one of his clients, went ape shit, and beat the shit out of 'em. Giles was none too happy. The next time they saw Joel he was sporting a black and blue face and a broken arm. You never fuck over Giles.

“I know. I don't trust him, and every ones been talking about how's he's started smoking crystal again. Fucker’s gonna get me into trouble unless I can find someone.”

“What about Graham?” Robert asks.

“Has a client too,” he says.

“Clark?”

“Went home to visit his family up in Manchester. You know they still think he's at university. I could only imagine if they found he's selling it and hooked on oxy.” Robert shakes his head, but that's a fear of his also. He couldn't imagine if his family found out he's a rent boy, he couldn't even imagine telling them he's bisexual.

“Hope you find someone,” Robert says as Charles nods in agreement.

****

Chrissie lives in the nicer part of the city, just like Aaron. He even passes his building in the way to hers. He looks up out the window of the bus to the top floor, but he can't tell if Aaron's there or not.

Chrissie lives in a house or Robert thinks more of it as a mansion. It reminds him of Home Farm from the village he grew up in. He knocks on the door and waits patiently, knowing it would probably take a while for her to walk through the house. He's smiling when she opens the door.

She's dressed in a tight red dress - a little too extravagant for his taste but he knows she won't be wearing it long. She ushers him inside and leads him towards the kitchen.

“Wine?” She asks, but Robert declines because of his last night consumption. “Dad's gone away on business and at the perfect time too, and Lucky’s visiting his father. I've missed you.” She says it as if they're closer than client and prostitute. Robert doesn't like that because it's not coming from Aaron, and he really hates her telling him about her family and their affairs. He doesn’t care, and it only made him feel like trash for fucking someone’s daughter or mother for money, but this is his job and he plays the game.

He takes her around the waist and pulls her flush against him. He can smell the Merlot on her breath, her lips painted a deep red to match her dress. In his mind she's overdone it, but to others he was sure she would turn heads. Once again he wonders why she pays for it. “Missed you too sexy,” he whispered silkily into her ear.

His hands reach down to cup her arse, pulling her dress up a little as he does. She smells like Dior and Merlot, and she's warm against his body, her breasts pushing against his chest - her nipples are already hard. He kisses into her neck as her hands tangle in his hair and his hands continue to massage her arse.

Then they're moving rapidly. She's ripping off his shirt as he reaches behind to find the zipper of her dress; pulling it down and letting it slip off her shoulders to pool around her feet. He leans down and starts sucking on her breast as his hand kneads the other one. Her skin is soft, taught, and tastes like expensive lotion. He sucks on her nipple as she moans. He slots his thigh between her legs and she begins to grind down against him, and he thinks about he should've taken his jeans off first because she's wet and leaking through her panties onto the fabric. He steps back to remove his jeans, boxers, shoes, and socks and watches Chrissie push the stuff on the dining table to the floor and she climbs on top, her legs spread wide.

He bites his lip and strokes his cock to full hardness as he watches her tease her own nipples, one hand sliding down into her panties as she begins to rub herself. She whines a little and tosses her head back, and her hips buck against her own hand. Robert steps forward, removing get hand from her panties, and his kisses her neck all the way down to her crotch. He pushes her back some so he doesn't have to get down on his knees and pulls her already soaked panties and licks at her pussy.

He licks her clitoris, his tongue moving rapidly over it, and he rubs two fingers against her labia, and then slips his middle finger into her. Her soprano moans get louder as he brings her closer to coming, her juices flowing more freely and pushing into his face. She comes with a scream, panting and pushing Robert’s face away. He wraps his hands around her thighs, grabbing her and pulling her to the edge of the table. Robert grabs his discarded jeans and pulls out a condom, opens it and rolls it over his cock. He pulls off her panties, throwing them over his shoulder, leaving her only in a pair of black stiletto heels.

Robert wraps his hands around her thighs again, leaning down to suck on her nipples as he pushes into her. “Fuck,” she whines as Robert moans around her breast. He starts thrusting deep inside her - knowing she can take every inch of him and love it. She wraps his legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back but he doesn’t care. She’s so wet and warm, and still pretty tight for being an older woman with a kid - he supposes kegel exercises really do work. He leans up and starts pounding into her harder, listening as he cries increase and watches as her manicured nails dig into the wood of the table. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” She screams as she comes again for the second time, the walls of her vagina contracting around Robert, stuttering his movement for a second. He keeps going, fighting off his orgasm as he brings through another one before lurching forward and coming inside the condom.

He pulls out, and holds onto the table until his legs stop shaking from his orgasm, and then removes the condom, tying it off, and looking around in search of her bin. He finds it in the corner of her kitchen and walks over to drop it in. They don’t speak, maybe it’s because it’s awkward on her part, but Robert doesn’t care enough to say anything. Chrissie is pulling her dress back on but ignoring the soiled panties and turns to Robert, smiling hugely. “That went a bit quicker than I thought.”

You don’t need to take your time if you know what you’re doing, and I always know what I’m doing, Robert thinks, but smiles and says. “It’s not about the speed but the pleasure, and you seem very pleased.”

“Touche,” she winks. “Sure I can’t get you that glass of wine?”

“Afraid not,” he says softly. “Maybe next time,” he only says it to wipe away the frown on her face. Never good to upset the clients, even over little things like that.

“I’m holding you to that,” she says and walks out of them room as Robert starts to get dressed. He was pulling his shoes on just as she came back into the room, holding a wad of folded bills in her hand. “Here you are,” she says and starts to hand it to him, he reaches out for the money only to have her jerk it away from him at last second. “Tomorrow?”

“You’ll have to call Giles to find out,” he says and curls his hand around the money. “I’m sure he can work something out.” At those words her hand unfurls from the money and lets Robert take it. She’s the only client of his that hands him cash like this, and it makes him uncomfortable. He’d rather not see it. He’d rather they all do it like Aaron. Leave it somewhere for him to pick up instead of it being passed hand to hand. Not once had Aaron ever handed him money, and that only made Robert like him more.

“See you soon,” she whispers and presses her lips to his cheek. He smiles and runs his thumb along her bottom lip when she pulls back, it leaves his thumb red with her lipstick letting him know he has an obvious lipstick mark on his cheek.
“Yeah,” he nods and leaves, feeling even more tired than he did when he arrived.

----

It was Friday morning when he got the call from Giles that Aaron wanted to see him. He almost couldn’t contain his excitement, Giles telling him to calm down over the phone or he’d come over and kick his arse. “Now Chrissie wanted to see you too, so you have to pick between her or Aaron.” He can practically hear Giles roll his eyes at how quickly he shouts Aaron’s name. “Shouldn’t have even bothered asking. I’ll make your appointment with Chrissie tomorrow.”

“How long does Aaron want me?” Robert asks as he gets out of bed, and going into the bathroom to start his daily routine. It’s silent on the other end of the line long enough for Robert to ask if he was still there.

“Yeah I’m here,” Giles mutters. “He wants you for the whole night.” Robert freezes, hand stilling as he squeezes out the toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

“The - The whole night? Did you tell him we don’t do that?” Robert doesn’t know how to feel about this. Spending the entire night at Aaron’s, sleeping over in the same bed, doing god knows what else. It would be like skipping over the black line and the gray area, straight into the white line of his personal life. It would be too confusing, and Robert’s confused enough as it is.

“I did,” Giles sighed, “but he’s offering a lot, an extra two thousand for the night on top of what he’s paying for the session. He said if you’re uncomfortable staying the whole night you can leave after he falls asleep and you can even keep the money.” Robert bites his bottom lip, a million different thoughts running through his head. Staying the night with Aaron is tempting. Getting to watch him sleep, laying next to him as drift off to sleep, having lazy conversation as they did so, and maybe even getting the chance to hold him while he sleeps. Fuck fuck fuck! “Why don’t you pack some overnight things just incase,” Giles says pulling Robert out of his deep thoughts. He didn’t even know how long they hadn’t spoken for.

“Yeah I guess so,” he says more to himself than Giles. At least with an overnight bag he’d be prepared if he decides to stay. “Um call him and let him know I’ll be there tonight, but don’t let him know if I’ll be staying or not because I don’t even know yet.”

“Yeah alright. Robert you don’t have to do it.” Robert smiles and shakes his head even though Giles can’t see him. He looks out for his boys, but he knows Giles wants that extra money, but he doesn’t want to upset Robert.

“I know,” he tells him softly. “Goodbye.” He hung up the phone before Giles could say anything.

****

Robert packed an overnight bag just incase he did decide to stay over. He’d thought about it all day but he still hadn’t made a decision, even now as he raises his fist to knock on Aaron’s door. The door swings open and Robert lets out a breath he wasn’t even away he’d been holding. Aaron takes him in for a moment, letting his eyes wander over his body, and takes notice of the bag and smiles. He grabs Robert by his button up shirt and jerks him inside the flat.

“Whoa,” Robert says as Aaron takes the bag from around his shoulders and drops it to the floor. Robert kicks his shoes off by the door, practically tasting the anticipation between them as Aaron’s fingers start working at the buttons of his shirt. Robert can smell the alcohol rolling off him, and he wonders just how much Aaron has drank. Aaron’s eyes are a bit glazed over, and his fingers fumble over the buttons - his tongues poking between his teeth all of his concentration being on getting Robert’s damned shirt off.

Robert doesn't break into his concentration but let’s his hands wander over Aaron’s face, down his neck, and over his shoulders where he lets them rest and begins to massage them. The tension in his shoulders is ridiculous and Robert wants to lay him down and give him what seems like a way overdue massage. Aaron finally gets the last button done and pushes the shirt of Robert’s shoulder, he pushes him into the kitchen and slams him back into the island. “Oh shit,” Aaron laughs, speaking for the first time. The sound of his laughter is beautiful and Robert can’t help but join in. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Robert whispers and pulls Aaron to him. “You?”

“About to get a lot better,” he winks and drops to his knees in front of Robert. His hands grip his hips and he pushes his face into Robert’s crotch, mouthing at him and letting his tongue press against him through the fabric making a dark wet patch in his jeans. Robert groans around his lip he’s taken in his teeth and sinking a hand into Aaron’s hair.

Aaron had just worked open his jeans and was about to pull them down when a shrill ringing went off. Aaron growls and stands up, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He frowns down at the caller ID. “Uh wait here I have to take this, get you a beer out of the fridge.” Robert watches him walk out of the room, as he reaches down to cup himself through his jeans. He sighs and walks over to the fridge - taking out a beer and snooping a little at the contents inside. “Eggs, milk, cheese, margarine, fruits and vegetables - no meat, he wonders if Aaron’s a vegetarian, until he pushes the milk to the side and sees a package of Bacon.

He twists the cap off the beer bottle, walking over to the bin to throw the cap away, when he notices something inside on top. Don’t do it Robert! It’s a letter, ripped in half, but Robert can make out the address in the corner that’s handwritten. It’s from a prison in Leeds. He can hear Aaron talking, his tone a little annoyed, and he looks back at the letter, taking his bottom lip between his teeth again. He lifts one half of the letter out of the bin. It's unopened but ripped in half, letting him know Aaron hadn’t read it but destroyed it. Robert’s best guess is that the letter is from Aaron’s father.

He hears the bedroom door open and he drops the letter back in the bin, and walks quickly back to his spot and tries not to look guilty. Aaron's shaking his head as he walks back into the room, and throws his phone down the counter of the island. It's easy to read his emotions on his face and Robert can see how annoyed he his.

“What's wrong?” He asks before he can stop himself.

“Nothing just my mum,” he waits for Aaron to go on. But when he doesn't Robert sets his beer down and goes to encircle his arms around his waist. He can feel Aaron relax at the touch and he fights the smile that's the eating to burst out. “She wants me home for Christmas but I can't make it. She was crying.”

“Why can't you go home?”

“Too busy,” he shrugs as if that enough of a reason.

“At Christmas time?” Robert says it like he doesn't believe him. “Don't you want to see your family.”

“I can see them anytime I want, just because it's Christmas doesn't make a difference to me.” Robert regrets say anything because of how harsh Aaron's tone is. He breaks Robert's hold on him and goes to the table where the decanter of scotch is and pours some into the tumbler sitting next to it.

“It's not my business,” Robert says as Aaron drinks deeply from the glass. “Sorry I said anything.”

“It's fine,” Aaron sighs. “Come here.” Robert walks over to him and let's Aaron push him down on the sofa as Aaron resumes his position on his knees in front of him. But it didn't feel the same as before, the anticipation gone, and it felt more like a job than a need.

He let Aaron work his jeans and boxers off, lifting his hips to make it easier, and watched as Aaron to his soft cock in his hand and began to jerk it. He closed his eyes and leant his head back, enjoying the sensation of Aaron's hand on him. He grunted as he took Robert's still soft cock in his mouth down the base, holding him there and flicking his tongue out to lick at his balls. “Shit,” Robert grunted as his cock began to swell in Aaron's mouth. He bobbed his head twice before taking him down again and holding him there, loving the feel of him hardening in his throat.

Robert pushed his hips up to create movement, but Aaron put a hand on his abdomen to hold him down telling him not to move. Robert breathing was harsh, the feel of Aaron's still mouth in becoming too much to handle. “Fuck Aaron! Please.”

Aaron pulled off, taking him in his hand and stroking his spit covered hard cock, making Robert mewl and thrust up into his hand, and Aaron lets him this time. His mouth attaches to Robert’s balls, flicking his tongue out to draw a figure eight over both of them before taking one into his mouth and then the other. “Jesus fuck!” Robert shouts, the feel of having both of his balls in his mouth being too much and he comes over Aaron’s hand before Aaron can stop and keep him from falling over that edge. He lets his balls fall from his mouth and works Robert through his orgasm, pumping every last drop from him, and teasing the head of his cock with his thumb until Robert can’t stand it anymore and pushes his hand away.

“Fuck,” Robert mutters in embarrassment. He’s an expert at keeping himself from coming, he had to be in his line of work, and he hasn’t blown his load without letting himself in years. “I’m sorry.”

“For?” Aaron asks as licks a trail of come from Robert’s thigh.

“You know,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes off of Aaron.

“What, for coming?” He asks and chuckles, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “That’s usually what happens Robert.” He tries not to think about how much he likes it when Aaron says his name.

“Not so quickly,” he keeps his eyes averted and cringes at Aaron’s booming laugh, focusing on his own embarrassment instead of getting lost in Aaron’s laugh. “It’s not that funny!”

“No it’s funny that you think I’m upset ‘cause you came quickly,” Aaron says and rubs circles into one of Robert’s thighs, pressing a kiss to it, and resting his head against his knee. Robert finally looks at him and he’s grinning cheekily up at him. “To be honest I look at it as a compliment on my exemplary skills.” Robert rolls his eyes but feels better, sticky but better. “Besides we have all night.”

Robert swallows and nods, still not having his mind made up. “Are you hungry?” Aaron asks through his internal struggle.

“Um no. I ate before I came over,” Aaron nods, presses another kiss to his thigh before standing up and walking over to the fridge.

“I hope you don’t mind if I eat.”

“Not at all,” Robert says, holding back his smart remark about Aaron’s steady diet of scotch. “You mind if I clean up in your bathroom?”

“No go on ahead,” Aaron jerks his head toward the bathroom as he pulls out some vegetables out of his fridge to make a salad. “There’s clean hand towels under the sink.”

“Thanks.” Robert goes to the bathroom, looking under the sink for the towels and pulling one out and wetting it then began cleaning himself off. He heard the faint ringing of Aaron’s phone through the walls of the bathroom and rolled his eyes. Does it ever stop for him? Robert looks around and sees a hamper in the corner of the bathroom and tosses the soiled towel into it. He looks at the items on Aaron’s bathroom counter. Deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, three different kinds of hair gel, and a couple bottles of cologne. Robert picks up a green bottle, takes the top off, and sniffs it. The smell if familiar - Aaron had worn it once before, and Robert wishes he’d wear it more often because it smells really good to him.

He puts the bottle back down and opens to door to see Aaron putting everything back into the fridge. He looks up at Robert, his forehead creased, and his eyes dark with anger. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go into the office,” he growls and slams the door shut. “Files are missing and the fuckers up there are sitting on their fucking fingers instead of looking for it. I know I’ll go up there and find it in five minutes.”

“Oh,” Robert bites his bottom lip, looking away from him, and feeling disappointed. It wasn’t long enough and here was Aaron rushing away, leaving him feeling weird about it all. “Well I can make it up to you later. You don’t even have to worry about paying me, and we can try this another night.”

“Another night?” Aaron asks as if confused by Robert’s words. “No we’ll do it tonight. I wanted you tonight and I’m gonna get you. Just stay here, and I’ll be back in about a half an hour.”

“Are - Are you sure?” Robert doesn’t want to tell him how uncomfortable being in his home alone will make him feel. He wants to be here, but not alone. It wasn’t right.

“I trust you,” Aaron says and walks to put a kiss to Robert’s cheek. “Only a half an hour. Watch some telly, drink a few beers, and be hard for me when I get back.”

“If you’re sure,” Robert says and watches as Aaron pulls his shoes on by the door, pulling his jacket off the hooks, and opening the door. “I am sure. I’ll be back soon.” The door clicks closed and Robert bites his lip, looking around and feeling very out of sorts alone in Aaron’s flat. He sighs, scratches his stomach, and grabs the beer from the island and sits on the sofa reaching for clicker to the telly.

“Half an hour,” he mumbles. “Robert Sugden don’t you go snooping!” He strictly tells himself, but being alone in Aaron’s flat gave him the opportunity to learn more about him. His eyes flick over to the dustbin where the letter sits. “Don’t you do it! That is none of your business.” He turns his eyes back to the TV, but they kept flicking over to the bin again and again, he grips the beer bottle so hard he thinks he might break it. “FUCK!” He screams and slams the bottle down. “Why the fuck are you such a Nosy Rosy?” He asks himself as if he might get an answer to the question.

Somehow he finds himself standing over the bin, not remembering moving from his spot on the sofa. He looks in and sees the letter, taunting him, practically begging him to read it. “Oh don’t do it!” Robert reaches into the bin, letting his and curl around the letter and pulling out. “No! No! No!” He shouts and drops the letter back in the trash, and taking his seat back on the sofa. “Half an hour!” He reminds himself and forces himself to focus on the telly.

Chapter Text

It's longer than a half an hour before Aaron gets back. Robert drank three beers waiting for him, and watched some documentary about the solar system - he found it interesting and it helped keep his mind off of the letter sitting in the trash. He'd gotten himself hard expecting Aaron to be back any minute but when another fifteen minutes past he gave up on trying to stay hard and let his cock go flaccid. He was starting to become a little agitated when he finally heard the door knob turn and in walked Aaron. Robert grabs the clicker to turn the telly off, stopping the dialogue about Jupiter's moons.

“Sorry,” Aaron says as he kicks his shoes off by the door. He's balancing a pizza box on his left hand, and carrying a six-pack of beer under his right arm. “I know I said half an hour but I had my driver take me to get us pizza, and some more beer for you.” Driver? Jesus you're fucking rich! At least you know better than to drive drunk.

“It’s okay,” Robert reassures him, and takes the beer from him so he can use both hands to carry the pizza. “Did you find what you were looking for?” They walk into the kitchen and set the pizza and beer down on the countertops.

“Yes,” he growls, “they were exactly where I said they were but I have idiots working for me. Honestly if it were possible, I’d do it all myself and fire the lot of them.”

Robert shakes his head but doesn't say anything, once again feeling like it isn't his place to do so. He watches Aaron move around the kitchen, and takes all of him in. He hadn't paid attention before - too consumed by just Aaron - but now he looks at all of him. He's wearing a suit today. The color of midnight when the moon's shining brightly to give you a nice view of the night sky. It fits him snugly in all the right places so it shows just how fit he is underneath the suit, the trousers framed his butt perfectly and if Robert wasn't already so used to the sight of him he might have of drooled a little with how good he looks. Aaron turns back around and catches Robert stating, he smirks as he sets two plates down on the island.

“See something you like?” He asks and grabs the pizza box from behind him and sets it down with the plates. He opens it and the smell of cheese and Italian sauce fill the room.

Robert walks over to him, steps behind him and encircles his waist with his arms, the fabric is soft against his naked body. He leans in to press a kiss behind Aaron's ear and whispers. “I want you to fuck while you wear that suit.”

“Really? You know this suit is pretty expensive,” he gasps as Robert pulls his hips back into him, then let's out a light laugh.

“I'm pretty expensive,” Robert whispers as he rolls his hips against Aaron's arse. “Fuck me while you wear the suit, and next time you wear it out you'll remember what you did to me while you wore it; people will see you and have no clue how dirty you were with me; they'll have no clue just how good you give it to me.”

“Mmm, can I eat first?” Robert's laugh was surprisingly loud, infectious even because Aaron joined him. He presses a kiss to his neck before moving away and sitting on a wooden stool beside where's he standing.

Robert declines the food, saying he might eat later and watches Aaron while he eats. Their eyes meet often, both smiling when they do; each time it gives Robert butterflies and he wonders if Aaron gets them as well. “You've got something,” Robert says and instead of pointing out the sauce in his cheek for Aaron to wipe away, he leans over licks it off at the corner of his mouth. “Tasty,” he licks his lips, with Aaron intently watching the movement. His eyes travel over Robert's naked body, lingering at his crotch. He sets his piece of pizza down and takes hold of Robert's wrist, yanking him off the stool and pulling him into his arms.

“I'm really glad you're here,” the confession makes the swarm of butterflies in his stomach flutter worse than ever before. “It's nice having some company.”

“What about your friends?”

“What friends?” He laughs bitterly. “I have acquaintances and colleagues but that's as far as it goes. I never really made any friends when I moved here.” Robert watches him shrug it off as if it doesn't bother him, but he knows it does. He wouldn't be here if it didn't. He briefly wonders if this was all brought about because of the letter that's still currently in the trash, unread.
Robert understands loneliness. It had taken him a long time to make friends after he was sent away by his father, it had taken even longer to trust the friends that he did make. It doesn't feel like friendship between him and Aaron though. Maybe it's because what they have isn't friendship, but more a business arrangement, or it could just be that it never felt like friendship to Robert but something more.

Still even though he doesn't feel like his friend, he smiles down at Aaron, cups his cheek; rubbing his thumb across his jawline and says, “I'm your friend.”

“I know,” Aaron gives him one of those rare shy smiles that take his breath away. “That's why you're here. I just don't want to have to fall asleep alone tonight.”

“Why tonight?” He can't help but notice the way Aaron's eyes flash to the trash bin. He looks back at Robert and shrugs.

“It's been a long time since I've fallen asleep next to someone, years actually. The last time . . .” He waits for Aaron to finish, watching as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard and then gives another shrug. “Sometimes you need someone to fall asleep next to.”

Robert gives him a half smile and ducks his head to hide his face against his shoulder, so he couldn't see the smile turn into a frown. He hasn't made his mind up, but how could he not stay after a confession like that? “I'm here,” he whispers along his skin, pressing his lips to his clavicle, up to his neck, and Aaron's hands tangle in his hair as Robert sucks on his neck. “Now then,” Robert barely pulls back so his warm breath ghosts over Aaron's skin as he speaks, “about fucking me while you wear this suit?”

Aaron laughs lightly and places his hands at Robert's neck and pulls his head up so he can look at his face. The mood between them changes quickly but the deepness of their conversation still lingers so it feels forced. “Wait here,” he says and walks back toward the bedroom. He comes back carrying a condom and some lube. “Turn around,” he instructs Robert.

“Boss at work and a boss at home huh?” Robert smirks and turns around and Aaron pushes him up against the counter tops.

“Is that a problem?” He asks and smacks Robert's bare arse. He jerks and bites his lip, the sting of the blow making his legs shake in anticipation.

“I like my men to be a bit controlling, makes it more fun,” he looks over shoulder to wink at Aaron. “You wanna control me?”

“Shut up,” he snaps but it's playful, and Robert catches a small smile on his face as he turns back around. “Lay flat,” he tells him and puts a hand in the middle of his back to push at his spine. Robert lays his torso flat against the counter - the coolness of the countertop making a shudder run through his body - and spreads his legs a little without having to be told.

Aaron leans down over him and starts pressing kisses at the back of his neck, his hands running down the sides of his body; thick nails digging in his skin about halfway down and he rakes them over his sides, leaving red lines on his skin that disappear just as quickly as they appear. Aaron gets down on his knees, the tile of the floor pressing painfully against them, but ignores the discomfort and instead focuses on the man in front of him, his arse waiting for his touch, tongue, fingers, and his cock.

His hands cup Robert's arse cheeks, kneading the firm flesh before his lifts his hand and delivers a sharp smack to his right cheek. “Oh fuck,” Robert gasps as his body jerks from the slight pain. “Do it again,” he says and pushes his hips back some. He feels Aaron's laughter on his arse and even though he asks for it, he still grunts in surprise when Aaron smacks his left cheek this time. The hits aren't enough to leave bruises, but he'd feel the sting of them for a couple hours.

Aaron's rubs each spot he spanks, pressing kisses to them, enjoying the heat from the slaps against his lips. He kneads his arse some more before spreading his cheeks, punching out a low groan of his own at the sight of Robert's entrance. He licks his lips before leaning to lick a stripe along the crack, savoring the sound of Robert's guttural moan. He licks up and down the cleft of his arse, his tongue slicking past the puckered rosebud entrance each time, and Robert begins to push back into his face; silently telling Aaron he wants more.

“Patience,” Aaron tells him and smacks his left cheek. “We’ll get there, we have all night,” he reminds him. Robert tries to regulate his breathing but it's impossible when Aaron goes back to licking along his crack. His tongue slips down further to tease his perineum, and down to his balls. He pulls one back into his mouth, rolling it around, coating it in his saliva. He takes his thumb and places it against Robert's hole, pushing it against the entrance; teasing him to point that it has Robert pushing back to try and get his thumb to slip past the ring of muscle. Aaron uses his free hand to hold Robert in place and stop the movement of his hips, making the older man let out a wanton sound that made his stomach clench with arousal.

“Fuck Robert,” he whispers after he lets his testicle slip past his lips. “Make that noise again!” He does, and the spike of lust shoots through Aaron again. He dives back in for Robert's arse, his tongue laps at his hole and alternates between licking and sucking until he knows Robert is coming undone from the way his moans to turn to whines and his legs start shaking. He pulls back and sucks two fingers into his mouth, getting them soaked in his spit. He presses one digit against Robert's hole; swirling around to tease him again, and then pushes in past the muscle all the way to his knuckle.

“Ohfuckme,” Robert says, the words forming so it sounds like one big word instead of three individual ones. He pumps his finger in and out a few times before adding the second, all the while Robert keeps punching out these little, low, moans that have Aaron's cock twitching in his trousers as it pushes painfully against the materiel. He added his tongue back in with his fingers, and Robert lost it. “Fuck me! Fuck me please!” He begs, hating to sound like a needy bottom. Robert was anything but needy unless his clients liked him that way, but with Aaron it came naturally or more like his own need to be needy and desperate with Aaron.

Aaron scissors his finger a few times to make sure he was nice and open before standing up. He pulls his zipper of his trousers down, and works his thick cock out of the material of his cotton boxers and through the hole of his pants. He grabs the condom he brought, rips the packet it open - dropping it on the floor - and unrolls the condom over his hard dick. He tugs it a few time before lining himself against Robert's hole, and pushes forward to tease him with it.

“Aaron,” Robert whines and pushes back only for Aaron to hold him in places as he runs his cock up and down the crack of arse. “Please!” Aaron takes him off guard, grabs hold of hips, and thrusts deep into him. “Oh fuck yes! Oh God!”

Aaron stills inside him, his eyes rolling back slightly as he breathes deep and tries to calm himself through the feel of Robert's tight heat envoleping him. He leans over Robert, his front laying flat against his back and he presses kisses to his neck. Robert rolls his hips, making Aaron groan and his eyes flutter shut. “C'mon fuck me, Aaron!”

Aaron leans up, grips Robert's hips and starts pounding into him. Robert's crying out a streamless mess of the word 'fuck’ over and over as Aaron grunts to the point of growling as he fucks him relentlessly, his cock dragging over his prostate again and again. He suddenly pulls out and Robert whines from the unexpected loss. Aaron turns him around, pulls his leg up by his thigh, moving his hand down to take hold of the back of his knee and pushes it up high. He uses his free hand to line his cock back up with his entrance and shoves himself back deep inside Robert. It's not the most comfortable position, but Robert doesn't really give a fuck because he could now watch Aaron as he fucks him, and enjoy the way his face bursts with pleasure.

“Shit,” Robert growls and grips tight to the counter top, throws his head back, as his red, swollen, cock bounces against his stomach. Aaron's face is red and dripping sweat, and Robert has to know he's burning up underneath the suit but fuck it's hot having him fuck him like this; knowing that this rich businessman who's probably poised and posh in public, is becoming unraveled as he fucks into a prostitue. The sweat behind his knee is making it hard for Aaron to hold on, and he loses his grip, makking Robert's leg fall, and his cock slip out of Robert again. Robert wastes no time and he pushes Aaron to the floor, laying him against the cool tiles and positions himself of over him. He plant his feet on the ground, knees bent, and he grips the counter top to steady himself, and Aaron holds his cock up for Robert to sink down onto it. He rides him in earnest, his cock flapping up to hit his stomach; flinging precum. Aaron lifts his hips to meet Robert's downward movement, each time making their bodies connect. His hands curl around air against the tile floor, and he watches as his cock disappears inside Robert. “Fuck Aaron I'm close!” Robert shouts and grips his cock, stroking himself closer to orgasm.

Aaron feels his own orgasm building, and grips Robert's hips, slamming him down onto his cock and he cries out as he blows his load inside the condom. “Oh fuck,” Robert shouts and starts coming.

“Not on the suit!” Aaron yells, but its too late, and Robert covers his suit in his come.

“Oh shit,” he pants and collapses against Aaron. “I'm sorry,” he pants out through his laughter, making it sound like he's not sorry at all.

“Forget it,” Aaron says, joining him in with his own laughter. “It's gonna have to be dry cleaned anyway.”

He rolls off his, hating to lose the feel of Aaron inside him. The tile is uncomfortable against his back as he lay, panting, next to Aaron. He looks over at Aaron and the overwhelming need to kiss him hits Robert like a tonne of bricks. His stomach clenches with it and before he knows what's he's doing, he's leaning in, heading for his lips with his own. “You want a drink?” Aaron asks when his mouth is centimeters away from Aaron’s, and it breaks Robert from his spell. Shit! He curses silently to himself.

“Uh s-sure,” he stutters and drops back against the tile. He runs a hand across his forehead, cursing silently to his self again when he discovers it shaking. He feels worse when he catches Aaron's face as he walks to the fridge. His brow his creased, and he's scowling. Aaron had known what he was about to do, and Robert could see how it upset him. That only made Robert feel ten times more awful. He didn't want Robert to kiss him.

“Here,” he held a beer out for Robert, who sat up and took it from him.

“I'm gonna use the bathroom real fast,” Aaron didnt say anything and he didn't watch Robert walkout of the room. After the door was shut behind him did he let his resolve break.

He gripped the sink counter until it hurt, his knuckles turning painfully white. “You're so fucking stupid,” he whispers to himself. “He doesn't want you, you're nothing but a piece of arse he pays for.” His skin crawls with the feel of Aaron still on him and he wants to jump in his shower, scrub his skin until it's red like he does after every other client. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes. “Stop being a little bitch,” he scolds himself. “You know it's not real, never will be.” But his words don't stop the pain in his chest. “He doesn't even wanna kiss you.”

He looks in the mirror, his lips swollen and red, skin flushed, eyes wide and he flinches at the look of pain in them. “Shit!” He takes the pain in his chest and pushes it down, deep into his stomach, and for a moment he thinks he might be sick. It passes and he looks back in the mirror. The pain is gone, replaced with something empty and hollow. He plasters a fake smile on his face, flushes the toilet for something to do, and leaves the bathroom to do his job the way it should be done. Detached and meaningless.

----

“Thanks for staying,” Aaron says later when they're in his bed. Robert doesn't say anything, doesn't find words to make the situation okay. It's around midnight and they'd just finished having a third round of sex. Robert could feel how stretched his arse is, and for once after being with Aaron, he doesn't like it.

He knew Aaron was very drunk right now, the last bit of sex had been sloppy and Robert had to hold Aaron up through most of it, and it had taken him forever to come. Aaron sunk under the covers, keeping a good distance between him and Robert. He doesn't even care it's you, Robert thought. Anybody could be in this bed with him, you're just convenient.

“Goodnight,” he whispers.

“Goodnight,” Robert says into the darkness of his bedroom, it sounds as hollow as he feels.

It doesn't take long before he hears Aaron's soft snores. Robert looks over at him and he looks so peaceful. He reaches over and strokes a finger down his cheek. He knows he can't stay, can't wake up in this bed. He pulls the covers back and crawls out of the bed, silently tip toeing over to the door. He edges it open, creeping out, and quietly shutting it behind him. He finds his clothing, dresses quickly, and picks his bag up that's still by the door. He doesn't think about how sad he feels or what Aaron might think when he was up alone in the morning.

The money is in the wicker basket by the door, and for a moment Robert almost leaves it but he knows he has to take it. He opens the front door and is about to leave but stops just before walking out. He knows it's stupid, and if Aaron ever finds out he's going to be seriously fucked, but that doesn't stop him from walking over to the trash bin and digging around for the two halves of the letter. He shoves them in his bag, takes a deep breath, and leaves.

Chapter Text

It's quiet in the morning as Robert lay in his bed, trying not to think about what Aaron must have thought when he woke up alone. Was he sad, angry, or did he even give a shit? He has a client meeting with Chrissie later, and one with a man named Peter later in the evening, but he could care less about those. His eyes land on his bag where the letter is still stashed, unread by his eyes. He doesn't know why he took it, but some part of him knew he had to. Aaron obviously has no interest in him other than what he pays Robert to do, but that doesn't stop Robert from feeling the way he does. It was still really stupid if him to nick the letter, and it'll be even more stupid when he decides to read it.

He's not ready to face that yet though, so he gets up and leaves the bedroom; heading for the bathroom to start his morning regime. He brushes his teeth, flosses, runs a comb through his hair, and splashes his face with cool water to help him wake up. It had taken a while for him to get home, having to wait for a taxi, and showered when he finally got home, falling into the bed around two a.m. and then he tossed and turned for another hour.

He sets about making a pot of coffee, and then a light breakfast of toast. He waters his bonsai tree, which has him brooding over Aaron again. He knows he would have kissed last night, claimed those luscious lips as his own if Aaron hadn't stopped him. “Why did you stop me?” Robert whispers as if he expects an answer. He shakes his head and goes to his bedroom and grabs his bag pulling out the letter. He pours himself a second mug of coffee, and sits on his sofa. He takes the two halves of the letter out of the ripped envelope. His smooths them out on the table and places them side by side so it makes it whole, and takes a deep breath. “You read this and you can't go back,” he says quietly and then starts reading.

Dear,
Aaron

I'm writing you this letter in hopes that you'll find it in your heart to forgive me. I've been informed that I have stage three pancreatic cancer and don't have very long to live. I know you hate me son, but I love you and I would like to see you before I die. I know I have no right to ask you of this, but I'm still your father and you're my son. Please make the choice to come and see me. I have a lot to apologize for, and I want to make things right between us before I go. I keep up to date with everything you're doing business wise, and like in my other letters, I praise you. You've done wonderful things with my - now your - company. You've taken it further than I ever thought possible, and it's truly amazing. I've written your mother as well in hopes she can convince you - even though she hates me as much as you - but I beg you, please come and see me. I love you.

Your father,
Gordon

Robert reads through the letter twice, not having a clue what any of it means. Aaron's father is dying and wants to see him, but for some reason Aaron hates him. A million different ideas run through his head, but they don't mean anything because he doesn't know what is the truth and what isn't. He wonders if Aaron knows his father is dying or if this is the first time Gordon has mentioned it in a letter.

It's not his place, he shouldn't even know what's in this letter, but he feels this need to let Aaron know. When Robert had learned of his father's passing, he would have wished to have had his chance to say goodbye. He hadn't even been able to do it as his funeral. He had watched from a bridge as his family and friends had gathered for his funeral, and he couldn't make his legs move to join them. He regrets that and he doesn't want Aaron to go through the same thing as him.

He groans loudly and throws his body back against the sofa, and pinches the bridge of his nose while he feels the beginning of a headache starting. He honestly wishes he'd never read the letter. It wasn't his business, but Robert always seems to make things that aren't his business, his. “Shit,” he curses softly just as someone knocks in his front door.

“Who is it?” He shouts, too lazy to get up and go and check for himself. He rarely got visitors, sometimes his mates would stop by, but not usually.

“Hello,” they shout outside the door, and Robert recognizes the voice. “I was wondering if you've accepted our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into your heart.” Robert rolls his eyes, but smiles and plays along.

“Sorry not today,” he shouts back. “Ask me when I stop selling my body than I'll let you know.”

“I'm sorry, I got my addresses mixed up. I meant strippergram!” They shout. Robert jumps up off the sofa and walks to the front door, he opens it and busts out laughing at the sight of Charles.

“What are you wearing?” He's dressed in a tight, black, V-neck shirt, and the highest pair of skinny jeans he'd ever seen in his life. They're tight enough to show off his junk, which is too big for such tight pants.

“You don't like it?” He teases and turns for Robert, giving him a nice view of his backside. “Here I get all dressed up for you and you can't even say how sexy I look, next time I won't be so kind.”

“You are too old to be wearing that,’ Robert snickers. Charles is the same age as him, twenty seven and someone would have to have a gun to Robert's head before he put those clothes on.

“Too old?” He shouts in fake outrage. “Please, I look good. You're just jealous 'cause I can pull this off and you never will. Aren't you gonna invite me in?”

“Not with those pants on, I won't,” Robert laughs.

“Look at that, not even here five minutes and you're already trying to get me out my pants.”

“You're the one offering a strip tease,” Robert reminds him, letting his eyes wander over his fit body.

“Hmm play your cards right,” he winks. Robert just shakes his head at the flirting and steps to the side so Charles can come into the flat.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Robert asks after he shuts the door. Charles takes a seat on the sofa, and he doesn't look very comfortable doing it because of the tightness his jeans. “Coffee?” He offers.

“Yes please,” he says and leans back. “A client bought these for me and asked me to wear them next time we meet. Which is in . . . About an hour. Honestly I hate them. There's no way to maneuver anything, and they pinch.”

“Poor you,” Robert says sarcastically as he pours the coffee. Adding sugar the way Charles likes it. “at least they do make your bum look nice.”

“Knew you liked it,” Charles says smugly. “What's this?” Robert turns around and sees Charles looking at the letter on the table.

“Oi that's not for you!” He shouts and rushes forward. He thrusts the mug of coffee into his hand and grabs the two pieces of the letter, and the ripped envelope off the table, and shoves them into his pocket. “Didn't your mother ever teach you not to snoop through other people's things?”

“Uh no,” he snaps, “my mother taught me how to weigh out heroin, not manners. Besides, it's not snooping when you have it laying out for the whole world to see.”

“That doesn't mean you should read it,” he yells. He knows he's overreacting, but he can't help it. It's bad enough Robert knows what the letter says, no one else needs to know.

“Alright, calm down. Jesus. It's not that big of a deal, I didn't see anything anyway.”

“Sorry; didn't mean to snap. It's private, that's all.”

“Something you want to talk abou?”

“No,” Robert sighs, “well kind of, but not about the letter. Y'know how I don't kiss clients?”

“Yeah it's stupid,” he says and drinks from his mug.

“It's not stupid. I don't want people who pay me to kiss me, it's weird.”

“Fine,” Charles says and sets his mug down. Robert sits down next to him, his eyes landing on the outline of his dick through those tight fucking jeans. “You don't kiss your clients, what about it?”

“I almost kissed one last night,” he admits like someone had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar, Aaron's cookie jar.

“Wow. Wait, almost? What do you mean by almost?”

“I leaned in for the kiss, but . . . he stopped me.”

“He stopped you?”

“Yes he stopped me,” Robert growls. The humiliation of last night comes flooding back, and it makes Robert angry. “And you know it's total bullshit too, because . . .”

“Because?” Robert doesn't have an answer. He finds it to be utter bullshit because of the way he feels, but might not be the way Aaron feels. Last night he had said he was glad Robert was there, that he liked his company, but that didn't mean he felt something for him.

“Never mind,” Robert whispers. “Forget I said anything.”

“You've got it bad, mate,” Charles says. “We're not supposed to fall in love.”

“When did I say anything about love? I don't love him,” but he keeps his eyes away the same as he did with Giles. He doesn't love Aaron, but he feels something.

“Maybe not, but you tried to kiss him, and that's big for you. So it's obvious you feel something more than just client and rent boy.”

“He's different, that's all, doesn't treat me like one. Isn't that what we all want, for someone to treat us more than what we really are?”

“Of course it is, but Robert you are in fact a rent boy. We both are, and being that doesn't give much leeway to love. Who's gonna love a prostitute?” Charles sounds so bitter when he says it. They stare at each other, and Robert realizes that they're more alike than he ever thought they were. If he had to pick a best friend it would be Charles, because he understands.

“I don't think anyone should love me,” Robert whispers, the pain of it settling in his chest. He shrugs as if it means nothing, but it really fucking does. “I'm so fucked up. I have sex for money, I can't date because I can't explain what I do for a living, and the only person I think I ever loved was my brothers wife - and I'm not so sure if I ever really loved her or the thought of hurting my brother.”

“I think you should be loved, more than anyone in this world me and you should be loved. We deserve it.” Robert couldn't agree. He didn't feel like he deserved to be loved. He's done so many fucked up things in his life, that he feels like he wasted the love he could've had if he just tried a little harder. Now loneliness is all he has.

“Maybe,” he says to appease him, even though he doesn't believe. “Maybe you are right, but it won't be with him.”

“What's so special about him?” He asks in a clipped tone, as if angry that Robert can't let it go.

“I don't know,” Robert says softly, a light smile threatening to make his lips curve. “He's different. Smart, successful, sort of damaged like me, and he just seems so honest in who he is. I like him.”

“What's he do?”

“I don't know,” he mumbles.

“You don't know, pshh man how can you not know?”

“I try not to ask questions,” try being the operative word.

“Then Google it,” Robert stares at him. “Google, y'know the search engine that lets you find anything.”

“I know what the fuck Google is arsehole! I don't have a computer or internet!”

“Jesus Robert it's the 21st century. Get with the time,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, it takes a while because of how tight they are. “I'm gonna burn these damn things after today. What's his name?”

“Aaron Dingle,” Robert sighs and leans back as Charles types the name into his phone.

“Damn, he's got his own Wikipedia page. Okay let's see . . . He's the CEO of Dingle Enterprises, it's an environmental company.”

“Environmental?”

“Yeah they make eco friendly plastics and paper, sell it at discounted prices all over the world. It says that in two short years Mr. Dingle has taken a small corporation and turned it into a multi million corporation after inheriting it from his father when he was sent to prison.”

Robert sits up at that, his ears perking at the mention of Aaron's father. “Why was he sent to prison.”

“Doesn't say,” Charles shrugs. “Let me check his early life . . .” It’s silent for a moment before Charles clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Doesn't say. It starts from the age of eighteen. So much for early.” he grumbles. “Let me go back and see if I can find something else.”

Robert's leg starts shaking up and down, something he's done since he can remember, a nervous tick if you will. “Here's something . . . Holy shit!” Charles exclaims, his mouth dropping open.

“What?” Robert demands.

“You, my lovely friend, are fucking one of Britain's top fifty most eligible bachelor.”

“Get the fuck out,” Robert gasps. “What number is he?”

“Holy shit,” he explains again. “Number three, Jesus look at his net worth,” he passes Robert the phone. There's a photo of Aaron, a little summary about what he does, and how much he's worth.

“I didn't even know someone could be worth that much,” Robert whispers. Now it was his turn to say, “holy shit!”

“I know. Doesn't hurt that he's dead fucking sexy either,” Charles jokes. Robert knows it's a joke, but he doesn't like it. "Get that scowl off your face, I'm not after your guy.”

“He's not my guy!”

“But you want him to be,” Charles says with a smirk.

“Shut up and see if you can find out why his father went to prison,” he snaps.

“Alright alright, don't get your panties in a wad! Let's see,” he takes a minute going through different sites on the internet before he finds one. “Father's name is Gordon Livesy . . . He went to prison for. . .” He stops and stares at the screen for a moment and Robert thinks he's reading, and he was, but what Charles reads is enough for him to shake his head and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Robert asks. “What did it say?”

“Nothing,” Charles mumbles.

“What? It had to say something!”

“Leave it Robert!” He yells and stands up. “It's none of your business, okay?”

“What the fuck, Charles? You're the one who wanted to look him up!” He shouts back.

“Yeah well I didn't think that . . . Just fucking leave it, yeah? I have to go,” he mumbles the last part and heads for the door. Robert doesn't understand what just happened. Charles stops and turn to face Robert, his hand on the door knob. “And just so y'know, there are people in this world that fucking love you,” and with those parting words he walks out, slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck?” He mumbles to himself. He wasn't sure but he thinks his best friend just said that he loves him.

----

“You're quiet,” Chrissie says as she sets a glass of Pinot Grigio in front of him. He picks up and drinks deeply. “Woah,” she says and takes the glass from as he continues to drink. “Slow down there. What's wrong?”

“I'm fucking things up,” he says and looks over at her, a small, pathetic, smile playing around his lips. “I'm not sure but I think my best friend told me he's in love with me, I have feelings for someone else, I haven't spoken to my family in months, and to top it all off I have sex for money.” He wasn't sure why he was dumping his problems onto Chrissie, but he needed to say something. It's eating away at him.

“You shouldn't feel bad about that,” she says kindly, laying her hand on his shoulder. “Everyone does something for money, you just do it in a more honest way. There is nothing wrong with you.”

“Kiss me,” Robert says, not even hearing the words in his head before he speaks them.

“Are - Are you sure?” She asks, leaning away from him. “You’re not thinking right.”

“Yes I am,” Robert lies. “Kiss me, Chrissie!” She licks her lips before leaning in and kissing him. Her lips are soft, warm, and he can taste her lipstick. It’s chaste at first, until Robert grabs her around the waist and pulls her closer, flicking his tongue across her bottom lip for entrance, that she grants him access willingly.

He moans into her mouth, loving the sensations the kiss was causing, but he can't help but notice there is no scratch of beard he long for, no manly cologne, no feel of a masculine body against his. He pushes all of that away and pulls Chrissie into his lap, he takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls. “Mmm,” she moans a little too enthusiastically. They start ripping each other's clothes off, and before they know it, they're naked.

“Condom,” Robert asks, panting against her lips after he pulls out of a heated kiss.

“Hang on,” she says breathlessly and gets up from the sofa, and walks out of the room. She returns with a condom in hand, and straddles his waist with her naked body. He wastes no time with foreplay, rolls the condom onto his hard cock, and lifts her by her hips, and slams her down onto his cock. “Oh God!” She cries and attaches their lips again.

She rides him over and over, crying out in pleasure as his hands roam, and they continue to kiss. She comes twice before Robert does, wailing against her skin as he does. They slow their speed, coming to a full stop, and continue to kiss sloppily.

It was nice to kiss someone, even if she pays for it. Robert's not sure where he stands with Charles or Aaron, but at least he knows Chrissie wants to kiss him.

Chapter Text

Everyday's routine for Aaron. He wakes up at six am, runs the treadmill for an hour he keeps in the spare room turned office/gym, showers, dresses in a suit for work, eats a healthy breakfast - sometimes only enjoying a protein bar, washes it down with a scotch on the rocks, and chews a piece of mint gum to get rid of the scent of alcohol on his breath. He then gathers his things for work, goes downstairs to meet his driver who takes him to his office he keeps in Leeds. The main office is held up in London, and he often travels there but prefers to live in Leeds because it's closer to home and his family - though he rarely visits them anymore.

When Aaron had inherited the company from his father his plans had been to strip it down, sell it off until nothing was left. It had started out that way until Aaron realized the work they're doing is important. His company makes eco friendly products - mainly plastic and paper - all if it made from recycled materials. The company's revenue was steady, but Aaron could see ways of improving it. He noticed his father hadn't done much with the company, and Aaron decided instead of stripping it down and selling off, he would strip it down and rebuild it. Now it's no longer Livesy Incorporated but Dingle Enterprises, with Aaron as CEO. In two short years he's built a multi million corporation, with companies in London, Australia, Germany, and just recently ground is breaking in Japan for a new building to go up, and he's trying for another in the states. If it goes the way he wants he'll be spending five months in the US overseeing the project.

When his driver drops him off at his office, not a large building but it's not headquarters. He gets his usual greetings of “good morning Mr. Dingle,” or “hello sir, how are you?” He nods to each who greet them and answers them with a “I'm doing fine,” as he makes his way to his office. His receptionist - Valerie - is at her desk, prompt and early waiting for him.

“Good morning Mr. Dingle,” she greets him with a bright smile. There's a styrofoam cup of coffee sitting at the edge of her desk, just for him. “You have a meeting at one with Mr. Dali about the importing problems they've been having into India, and another at three with Shelley from purchasing - she still claims she's missing sixteen order forms for the offices up in Germany. Also you have a call with Mr. Akimoto on line two, he's been waiting for half an hour.”

“Thanks, Valerie,” he smiles at her and takes the coffee from her.

He then spends his time working, taking care of complaints, and making sure everything is running ship shape. In the bottom of his desk drawer he keeps a flask of scotch, and every now and then he'd take a swig of it, washing the scent away with another piece of mint gum. There are days where he stays into the late hours of the night working, but then are the days he knocks off early to go home and makes a call to Giles.

The number was given to him by a colleague, and they told him “incase you're ever feeling lonely.” It was a number for an escort service providing you with company of a man or woman for an evening, high end according to the man who gave it to him. At first Aaron had disregarded it, thinking it was a joke or something stupid like that. Then one night he got curious. It had been a long time since he had sex, not that he couldn't get it whenever he wanted. He's a rich handsome businessman, and he knew he could lure any man into his bed. It was the whole morning after thing that bothered him, sharing a bed with a stranger, and the awkward questions in the morning. “Will I see you again? Will you call me? Can I have your number?” All of his answers were a resounding no, and hated seeing the disappointment in their faces. All Aaron wants is a no strings attached relationship, without having to make some stupid commitment to the other person.

His last two relationships - only two relationships - had crashed and burned. His relationship with Jackson had been short lived, just like his life had been, and it was never meant to be with Ed. After that Aaron decided not to date, but focus on his career, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get horny like every other red-blooded male. He toyed with idea for sometime before finally giving in and calling the escort service. The man he spoke with - Giles - had promised that everything is discreet and professional. He asked if Aaron had any preferences, and Aaron told him male, twenties, and to send him someone who knows what the hell they're doing. He said he had just the man for Aaron, and would send him over around six.

Honestly Aaron hadn't been expecting someone like Robert, but he can never say he wasn't dissatisfied from the first moment he laid eyes on the gorgeous blonde. It only got better after the first time they had sex, even with the set of rules Robert laid out for him. He was appreciative of his rules, glad kissing was out - although he often thinks about kissing those full, pink, plush lips. Kissing makes things complicated, and the last thing Aaron needed in his life was more complications. He wants to kiss Robert, let their lips mold together in an open mouth kiss, light slip of tongue at first until probing deeper to taste all of him, but he resists. He knows Robert wants to kiss him also, had almost done so the other night, and knows the older man would have if Aaron had let him. He stopped it though, because . . . at the time he had a good reason but when he thinks about it now he realizes it was stupid.

He didn't want Robert to kiss him because he's afraid if he does, Aaron will fall in love with him. He enjoys the company Robert provides him with, and it's not just the sex - although it's the most passionate, best, hottest, sex he's ever had - he also just enjoys Robert's presence, and the conversations they share. It's hard enough keeping his distance and acting like he doesn't care, but if their lips meet he's sure everything will change and he doesn't think he can cope with another heartbreak if it were to go south. Which he's sure it would because of his track records with blokes.

So he'll keep Robert at distance and if he keeps trying to make that move then he'll end it, stop calling, and forget he exists. Maybe he shouldn't have asked him to stay over the other night. He really needed someone's company, especially after receiving the letter from his father. It had been months since the last one, and it popped up out of the blue; taking him off guard and making him feel sick and awful. He hadn't even bothered reading it, ripped it up and threw it in the trash just like he's done with all the others he's received in the past. After that he knew he couldn't be alone that night, was too afraid he'd do something he'd regret like slice into his skin with the razor he keeps under the bathroom sink or drink himself into alcohol poisoning. So he made the choice to call the escort service and hire his favorite rentboy for the night, the whole night, paid extra even though they don't provide those kinds of services.

The night had started off great, he was a little drunk when Robert showed up but he couldn't resist having a few before he got there. He knew it would be a good night until they were interrupted by a phone call from his mum. He had lied to Robert about the nature of the call, saying it was his mum asking him to come home for Christmas, they'd had that chat earlier in the week. No she had called because she had also received a letter from Gordon and wanted Aaron to come home to discuss it. He flat out refused, telling her that man was no longer apart of his life and to let it go. He'd hung up on her just as she was about to tell him what the letter had said. They haven't spoken since, mainly because Aaron keeps dodging her calls.

Then he'd gotten a little upset with Robert because he pushed the issue of seeing his family. He didn't want to fight with him, if he wanted to fight with someone he could have just called his mum back. He snapped at him because he didn't want to mix business with personal and though he may feel things for Robert, he prefers to look at it like a business arrangement, providing money for services.

Then it was good again after Aaron got back from the offices, they joked, he even opened up a little, and then they had explosive sex, and then in Aaron's mind Robert went and screwed it all up by trying to kiss him. After that he got really drunk and can't remember much, but he knows Robert was there when he fell asleep, but gone this morning when he had woken up.

Aaron gets home late tonight, drinks, watches some telly and texts back and forth with his best mate Adam. He misses him, misses a lot of people back home, but hates going to visit because of the way people look at him every time he does, like he's just some pathetic victim who had been raped as a child by his own father. Each time he goes home it triggers something in him and he returns to Leeds with angry red cut on his skin. It's healthy for him to stay away. Thinking about it makes him want another drink, and he indulges.

It also makes him lonely.

He wants to make an appointment with Robert, but it's nearing one a.m. and he knows he can't call. It's not about sex either right now, even though he knows if Robert was there with him it would be the initial outcome. It's more about having someone there to talk to, to have a presence near other than his own. He wishes he had Robert's own personal number, knowing if he called he was sure to come to him, but having that kind of power would only lead to trouble.

The loneliness is too much and he can't sit on his sofa thinking about it anymore. He shuts off the telly, sends a goodnight text to Adam, and makes his way to his bedroom. He shuts the curtains over his bedroom window - not liking how the light filters in, in the morning. He crawls under the covers, sinking down somewhere in the middle of the bed. He grabs one of the many pillows and hugs it to his chest as a substitute for a body. His hand ghosts over the side of the bed Robert had laid the last time he was here. He has to choke back the sobs threatening to escape him, wishing he wasn't alone, wishing he wasn't so messed up, and wishing more than anything for the man with blonde hair and a devilish smile was in bed with him.

He sleeps deeply that night, finally having his wish granted and finds Robert on the other side in his dreams.

Chapter Text

Robert returned home around eight at night. He needed to shower, eat something, and maybe even get drunk. He's not one for getting drunk by himself, but he feels like he could tonight. What he doesn't expect is to find Charles, waiting outside his door, sitting on the floor with his phone in his hand. Charles looks up when he spots Robert out of the corner of his eye, and they stare at each other for a moment. “Hi,” Charles says, breaking the silence between them. He's no longer wearing those ridiculous clothes, and Robert likes him better this way. Dressed in jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, and trainers. It's more him.

“Hey,” Robert says a little awkwardly. He doesn't know what kind of ground they're standing on, especially with the way they left things. “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure,” he nods and stands up, and waits as Robert opens the door. “Listen about earlier,” Charles begins after Robert shuts the door behind them. “I'm sorry for the way I acted.”

“What was it?” Robert asks, needing to know why he flipped out the way he did.

“Robert,” he sighs, “I can't tell you. It's not my place, and it's not yours to know; not something that personal. Let it go. If one day he wants to tell you, then let him, but don't say anything to him about it before.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Yes.” They're silent for some time, Robert trying to work out what he could mean, and Charles being patient with him as he did. “Robert he pays you for sex. I don't want to sound like an arsehole, but you're not his boyfriend or even his friend. It's unfair, but when has life ever been fair?”

“You're right,” Robert says sadly. “I'm nothing to him, that was made pretty clear last night. I'll get over it,” it's a lie, but it was a good enough one to make Charles look relieved. “Now about before you left.”

“Right. That.” He grimaces and runs a hand through his dark hair, blowing out a large puff of air and leans against the counters in Robert's kitchen. “Can we forget I said that?”

“No,” Robert says, causing Charles to frown. “Are you in love with me?”

“No!” Charles says so quick Robert doesn't believe him. “Look, I don't love you but I have feelings. I have for a long time, but they're just feelings so I can push them away. It doesn't mean anything.”

“It does to me,” Robert mumbles and walks over to him. He's taller than Charles, who has to look up at him, with his eyes instantly flickering to Robert's lips. “You're my best friend, and I don't want ruin that, but I don't want you to have to hurt yourself by lying. If you have feelings for me, just tell me. I can handle it.”

He grabs Robert 'round the back of the neck and pulls him into an open mouthed kiss. Robert's first instinct is to pull away, let Charles off easy, and send him on his way, but he pushes that feeling back. This is someone who wants to kiss him, for free, and just because he wants to. One hand curls into the back of his hair, and Robert's arm goes around his waist, pulling their bodies flush together. It's a good kiss. warm, with soft lips, breathy whispers into each others mouths, and it gets better when Charles pushes his tongue into Robert's mouth. “Mmm,” he moans into the kiss, as Charles takes control and turns them around so Robert's pinned against the cabinets. He starts working at the buttons on Robert's shirt, refusing to break the kiss as he does so, and Robert works at the belt in his jeans.

Charles gets Robert's shirt off, his hands tangling in his hair again and bucks his hips against Robert's, making him gasp. Charles takes Robert's bottom lips between his teeth, and pulls, earning a groan from him, and then sucks on the tender lip. Robert can feel himself getting hard, and he knows he'll have sex with Charles tonight, but first, “I have to shower.”

“Okay,” Charles pulls back, letting his hand linger at his neck.

“I'll be ten minutes top,” Robert kisses him again and heads for the bathroom. “Make yourself at home.”

Robert showers at his normal pace, making sure to scrub his skin as clean as possible to remove the feel of his client. Once he's done, he steps out of the shower, and grabs a towel, starting to dry his hair first. He wraps the towel around his waist and walks out of the bathroom. He hadn't brought a change of clothes in with him because they'd just be taken off by Charles anyway.

Charles is sitting on the sofa with the telly on, the volume low. “Well I'm overdressed,” he says when he hears Robert's footfalls one the wood floors, and turns around to stare.

“We'll have to do something about that,” Robert says, a lifts a finger making a come here motion with it. Charles smirks, pulls his shirt off throwing it on the couch, and walks over to Robert, running his hands down his smooth freckled chest, droplets of water covering his hands. Robert grabs him and kisses him, pushing his tongue into his mouth as Charles slips a hand inside the towel and takes hold of his cock, stroking evenly.

Robert's body responds immediately, his dick hardening in Charles grasp. He breaks the kiss, his head tipping back and lets loose a low moan as Charles attaches his lips to his neck, sucking softly in the skin so as not to mark him. He may not be paying, but he knows the rules. He let's go of Robert's cock, rips the towel from around his waist letting it pool at their feet, and drops to his knees in front of him. He licks a few water droplets off the inside of his thigh, inhales the clean scent of his skin, and then takes the head of his cock between his lips, sucking hard on the tip. Robert's breathing quickens, his hand sinking into Charles' soft hair and pushes down making him take more of his cock into his mouth. He works Robert's shaft in and out, taking him a little farther each time, and Robert knows he's teasing him because he can take all of it; after all he is an expert prostitute with all the skills Robert has.

Robert forced Charles to take all of him, admiring the way he doesn't gag when he does so. “Fuck, that’s really good!” Robert says, as Charles fondles his balls as he continues to deepthroat him. He pulls off and replaces his mouth with his hand, adding a twisting motion that drives Robert crazy to the point his legs begin to shake. Charles kisses the tip of his dick, and takes hold of Robert’s hand to pull himself up off his knees.

Robert pulls him back in for a kiss, and begins to walk them backwards towards his bedroom without ever breaking the kiss. He keeps walking until his the back of his knees hit the bed, and he takes the down with Charles lying on top of him. Charles grinds his Jean glad hard-on against him, his nails digging into his shoulders as he breaks the kiss to bury his face against Robert's neck and moans. Robert pushes his hands into his back, leaving finger shaped indents that disappear as soon as they appear, and he rolls them over so he's on top. He kisses down over his chin, dragging his teeth over his Adam's apple and works his way down -kissing and licking - until he gets to the waistband of his jeans. He licks along the skin of his abdomen before moving down more, undoing his jeans as he does. Charles' cock is hard, straining against the material and Robert mouths at his erection through his jeans, running his mouth up and down it, teasing him. “Fuck,” he whines as Robert licks the tip, creating dark wet patch on his jeans. His fingers slip in the waistband of his jeans on either side of his hips and in one fluid motion he strips Charles of them along with with his boxer briefs. Robert takes his swollen cock in his hand, pumping him as he moves back up his body to kiss his parted lips.

“Roll over,” Robert tells, not asks and Charles wastes no time in rolling over onto his front and getting on his hands and knees. Robert reaches over into his bedside table for a bottle of lube and a condom. He squirts lube onto two fingers, works one digit around his hole until he feels the tension begin to leave Charles’ body and he pushes it into the knuckle. “You're really loose,” he comment from how easy it was to push in.

“Got fucked today,” Charles says like it happens everyday and for him and Robert is it really does. Robert shrugs and adds the second finger, working them in and out and scissoring them inside for a short time. He opens the condom and rolls it over his dick and slaps it against Charles' arse cheeks a few time, running it over the cleft of his arse. “Are you gonna fuck me or tease me?”

Robert chuckles and pushes deep into him, filling him up, and enjoying the groans it bring forth from Charles as he buries his cock until he's balls deep inside him.

It's not the first time they've had sex, not even the second, so it's not unfamiliar to Robert, but maybe he would have enjoyed it more if he wasn't thinking about Aaron and how he sounds when Robert fills him up or the way Aaron pushes back with his hips to try and take him deeper even though Robert's as deep as he can go. It could also be the fact that he's pretty sure Charles is in love with him and he just doesn't feel the same way.

He grips tight to his hips and pounds into him over and over, cock rubbing against his prostate to elicit loud gutteral moans from Charles, and the sound of skin slapping skin reverberating around the room.

Maybe it would be better for him to love someone like Charles. Someone who gets it, understands the life he has to live, and doesn't judge him for it because he himself wouldn't have a leg to stand on if he did. Falling for someone like Aaron is stupid, Robert knows that. He's above Robert, better than him in every way. Still, even now, he can't get Aaron out of his brain; even as he fucks his best friend. It's Aaron he sees when he closes his eyes, it's his name that almost slips past his tongue as he comes inside the condom, wishing it was Aaron's muscles contracting around him instead of Charles as he also comes. But the worst part, absolute worst part, is he swears he hears Charles whisper “I love you” but he's not sure because of the white noise filling his head from the post orgasmic high and what's so bad about it is that he wants that to be Aaron too. Wants Aaron to whisper those soft words as Robert makes him come.

“Shit,” Robert's says in a tone that, to him at least, sounds a little frightened. Charles however thinks it has to do with the sex and he curls up against Robert's chest after their bodies are able to move and lie next to each other. He chuckles and runs hand down the smooth plains chest, drawing lines between his freckles like playing connect the dots. Aaron did that once, saying that his freckles mapped out the shape of a duck if connected right.

“Bullshit,” Robert had said and slapped his hand away while Aaron laughed against his neck.

“I swear,” he promised. “Let me show you,” and then he did. Robert hadn't seen the duck shape when he did, but Aaron still swears up and down that it's there.

“You know I think you have the shape of some animal on your chest,” Charles says and his finger continues to move. “I'm not sure what though, maybe a bunny. Yeah I think it's a bunny.” Robert looks at him, staring until Charles meets his gaze.

“It's a duck,” he says and looks back up at the ceiling.

“You sure?” He asks and traces again. “Hmm I don't see it.”

They're quiet for a while and Robert's thoughts are a steady stream of consciousness, flowing evenly through his head, and he makes sure not to focus on one thought for too long before moving onto the next. It helps so they don't get muddled, and so he won't dwell on the ones he doesn't really want think about right now.

“Are you okay?” Charles' voice snaps him out of it, and Robert's eyes lock onto his.

“Hmm? Oh yeah. I'm fine,” he shrugs.

“You're freaking out, aren't you? About what I said.” Robert knows what he means, but doesn't want to discuss that - it had been one of the thoughts he'd been trying to ignore. So he feigns innocence instead, using a light carefree tone when he speaks.

“You mean earlier in the kitchen? Nah, it's fine. Sometimes a friend develops feelings for another friend. It happens,” he shrugs again, running his fingers over his back. “Not a big deal.”

“Oh,” Charles whispers, his forehead creasing in confusion. “Right. Good then. Do you want me to go?”

Yes. “No,” he lies. “You can stay if you want.”

“Thanks,” and he hates the way Charles smiles so sweetly at him, because he can feel the lie of his own words through that smile. “I'm gonna use your bathroom,” he crawls off the bed and walks out of the room.

Robert finally removes the condom from his soft cock, ties it off, and tosses it somewhere on the floor thinking about how he'll clean it up in the morning. He throws the come soiled duvet off the bed, wishing he had removed it before they had sex because it can get pretty cold in his flat at night. Although he's sure if he gets cold enough during the night he'll just pick it up off the floor and use it anyway. He gets out of the bed to shut the curtains so the morning light from the sun doesn't wake him up, he really hates that.

The rooms almost pitch dark now, and climbs back into the bed, sinking underneath the sheet. He lays on his side with his back to the door, but knows when Charles is back because he shuts it loudly behind him. The bed moves as he adds his weight to it and he scoots up close to Robert, putting his arm around his waist. Robert tries but fails at not thinking about how this is how him and Aaron should have been sleeping last night together.

Charles' nose is pressed against the back of his neck, his warm breath tickling his neck slightly and he kisses him. “Goodnight Robert,” Charles says softly.

“Night,” he says back and closes his eyes. He forces his brain to shut up, let's it all empty out, and falls into a restless sleep.

----

Robert wakes up first in the morning, rolling over and opening his eyes when he doesn't feel another body. Charles is still there though, sleeping on the edge of the left side, one arm hanging over. He doesn't touch him or make any move to wake him up, just lays there and stares.

The sex had been good, would have been great if Robert hadn't been thinking about Aaron during. He doesn't know how much it's gonna complicate things between them, and doesn't want to stick around and find out how awkward this morning is going to be.

The room is bathed in pale light, most of it hidden behind the curtains. He gets out of the bed slowly, doing everything he can not to jostle it, and grabs a clean pair of boxers, jogging shorts, and a white cotton t-shirt and leaves the room. He gets dressed in the bathroom and does his morning routine. He forgoes making coffee and grabs his water bottle from the fridge. He's going for a run this morning instead of hitting the gym, wanting the fresh air and the movement from the outside world. He finds his wrist watch that tracks the miles he does and puts it on, along with his iPod and the arm holder it goes in.

He leaves a note for Charles telling him to hang out if he wants and that he went for a run this morning. He adds a smiley face at the end so it doesn't seem so indifferent, and then leaves the flat.

Normally he runs six miles; three forward, three back, but today he feels like doing more. He stretches outside in front of his building, and then sets off at a steady pace. It's chilly this morning but it doesn't take long for his body to start heating up from the exercise. He's going in a different direction this morning, heading up town instead of down and while he knows exactly why he's going this way he doesn't let himself think about it and just keeps running, stopping periodically to drink some water and catch his breath.

He's not far now from his destination and even though people on the streets saw his shoelaces to his left trainer come untied, they don't stop and say anything so Robert's unaware. He can see the limestone building up ahead, a black Mercedes parked out front with dark tinted back windows. It was just dumb luck that Aaron would be coming out of the building at the same time Robert was getting ready to run past. He had only a second to decide, run into him and act like it's a huge coincidence and make up some lie about how he always jogs up this way or ducking into the alley behind the building and wait for him to leave. Before Robert can decide he passes the alleyway and concedes that he'll have to go with option one, and it probably would have worked out too if it hadn't been for the fact that Robert finally stepped on his untied shoelace, tripping him up and making him fall forward.

“Oh shit!” he yells and falls right into Aaron, taking them both to the concrete ground.

Chapter Text

“Oh shit,” he yells and falls right into Aaron, taking them both down to the concrete ground. A sharp stinging pain in his knee is the first discomfort he feels, but it doesn't compare to the pain in his head when it cracks against the sidewalk. “Ow,” Robert voices his opinion on the matter, gripping the spot where his head it.

“Are you okay?” Aaron voice is right there in his ear, low and concerned, and his warm breath tickles his skin. “Oh no,” he whispers as Robert sits up and pulls his hand away from his head. The first wave of nausea isn't from the pain but the cherry red color of blood staining his hand.

“Uh oh,” Robert starts slip back towards the ground, the sight of the blood wanting to make him faint. It wouldn't be so bad if the blood wasn't pouring out of his head, but somewhere else. Aaron catches him before he can hit the ground again, holding tight to his arms to keep him upright.

“Come on,” Aaron says and wraps an arm around his waist, slowly helping him stand up. “Let's get you upstairs.”

“Do you need help Mr. Dingle?” Someone asks and Robert looks up long enough to see a man dressed in a cheap suit standing there, car door open beside him. Aaron's driver.

“No I've got him. I'll just take him upstairs and clean him up, shouldn't take long.”

“Here, take these,” he hands him a bunch of napkins out of the glovebox and Aaron stuffs them into Robert's hand who immediately uses them to stanch the blood flow.

“Thank you, Nate. Alright you, come in,” Aaron begins to move them, letting Robert lean on him as they go back inside the building. “Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine. I'm just not a big fan of blood, especially when it's pouring from my head.” Robert says and breathes in through his mouth, trying to keep calm. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. A little blood never bothered me.” Aaron holds tight to him in the elevator even though Robert was capable enough to stand on his own, but he keeps that information to himself and leans even more into him. He smells amazing, wearing the cologne Robert likes and it makes his head light or that could just be the blood loss.

“I meant are you okay because I knocked you over. I'm real sorry about that.”

“Don't worry. No harm done, well except for yourself that is.” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to Aaron's floor, and he helped Robert walk to his flat door. He let go long enough to unlock the door and open it before wrapping his arms around Robert again, and helping him inside.

They kicked their shoes off by the door and Robert can't help but think about how weird it is being in Aaron's flat during the day. Normally they met during the evening or at night, so this was new for him. It's not like he was expecting a drastic change, everything was still the same as it always is. “Let's go into the bathroom,” Aaron leads him to it, flipping the lightswitch on inside the door. “Up,” he pats the counter top for emphasis. While Robert sits he watches Aaron dig around under the sink and when he stands up he's holding a first aid kit and a white washcloth.

Robert pulls the blood soaked napkin away from his forehead and Aaron takes it from him, throwing it in the trash bin. He turns the water on, letting it warm up before sticking the cloth under the stream. He wrings it out and moves to stand in front of Robert.

“That's going to ruin that cloth,” Robert says and Aaron gingerly begins to wipe the blood from his face.

“It's fine,” he shrugs and drags the cloth down over his cheek. Their eyes meet and a tingle runs through Robert. He wonders what would happen right now if he kissed him. He's not on the “clock” so what would be the harm? Rejection, he thinks harshly. He flinches as Aaron wipes the towel right across the cut on his head. “Well I don't think you'll need stitches. I have a few things here to bandage you up. Won't be the best but it'll be adequate.”

Robert doesn't say anything as he finishes cleaning up his face, then his scraped up knee. “So,” he says and opens the first aid kit. “Should I be calling the police?”

“You what?”

“You know, to file for a restraining order for you stalking me.”

“What?!” Robert cries and pushes Aaron’s hands away as he begins to dab a cotton ball covered in rubbing alcohol against the cut on his forehead. He hisses and touches the cut, only making the pain worse. “What do you mean stalking? I wasn't stalking you! I swear!”

Robert feels the beginning wave of worry, wondering if Aaron really meant that and would call the cops on him. He hadn't been stalking him, just wanted to see him. Jesus, maybe I am a stalker! He's about to protest some more when Aaron starts laughing.

“Calm down, mate. I was just winding you up, I know you weren't stalking me.” He tentatively reaches up, keeping eye contact with Robert to let him know he was going to touch him again and Robert doesn't try and stop him. He flinches as the rubbing alcohol soaked cotton ball touches the wound again. “Although I am curious as to what you were doing here.”

“Running,” Robert mumbles.”I like to run up here sometimes,” he lies.

“And the fact that you ran - or more like fell - into me was what, a coincidence?”

“Yes!” He enunciates the word, already upset with the fact that Aaron made the joke about stalking. Next time he'll ignore the urge to see Aaron so he won't be accused of being a creep.

“That's a shame,” Aaron bites his bottom lip and moves to clean the cut on his knees. “Here I thought I was special.” Robert tries not to shiver as Aaron runs the tips of fingers down the back of his calf.

You're very special.

“Mmm, did you now? Well I'm afraid you're as ordinary as any other unlucky bystander would have been if I had bowled them over and not you.”

“Unlucky? Nah. More like right time, right place.” Robert tries to hide his smile, but fails. “As far as I'm concerned my morning is starting off fantastic. Not only did I get run over by a sexy man, I also found out that I'll be spending the next month working my angle to different prospective investors to build a new company in the States. I'll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Are you serious? A whole month?” You can't go! We've only ever been apart for no longer than two weeks. He wants to slap himself for having that thought. Aaron isn't his boyfriend. They have no commitment to one another and he knows it's none of his business, but when Aaron starts to put a bandage over the cut on Robert's head he grabs his arm to stop him. They look deep into each other's eyes and Robert finds from staring into the crystal clear blue orbs the courage to tell him. “I'll miss you.”

A light blush spreads across Aaron's face; a small smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. He places the bandage over the cut, his hand lingering against Robert's cheek for a moment. “I'll miss you too.”

That small confession isn't enough to wash away the wave of sadness that was pouring through Robert right now. Aaron bends down to start putting a bandage over the scraped knee, and Robert takes the chance to close his eyes and conspicuously take a few deep breaths. He honestly felt like he could scream and rant his feelings about Aaron leaving right now, he also felt he could cry over it, but as appealing as those options sound to him he goes with what he knows to do best in a situation like this: repress it and change the fucking conversation.

“So Dr. Dingle, what's the verdict?”

“Superficial,” he says and stands back up, clearing away the trash and first aid kit. “You'll be fine. Might have a concussion though, so if you feel sleepy or dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight you might want to go to hospital. You'll also probably have a killer headache if you don't already.” He does. Hell take two Paracetamol when he gets home.

“You're not a real doctor are you?” Robert jokes, lightly.

“Nah but I am an expert in prostate exams,” he laughs. “I think that's the lamest joke I've ever made.”

“It was pretty bad,” Robert agrees. “So bad that I think it's making me a bit sick. I think you'll have to check my temperature doc, hope you're packing a good thermometer,” he reaches down to cup Aaron through his trousers.

“Wow and I thought I made a bad joke, but no, yours is so much worse!”

“Well excuse me for not being up to date on my dirty doctor/patient talk.” He let's go of Aaron's cock, takes hold of his hips and pulls him in between his legs. “How about we just cut to the chase and you fuck me doctor. That better?”

“Mmm much better,” he sighs and runs his hands up and down Robert's thigh. “I appreciate a patient who knows exactly what he wants from his doctor.” He leans in to rub his nose alone Robert's jaw, his hand slipping underneath his T-shirt to brush along his soft skin. “Too bad I'm not a real doctor,” Aaron whispers in his ear before pulling away and stepping back from between Robert's legs. His smile is mischievous and he gives an exaggerated wink before walking out of the bathroom.

“You bastard,” Robert mumbles affectionately. He hops off the counter and follows Aaron into his bedroom where he begins to undress. “Medical treatment and a strip show, I'm a lucky lad.”

Aaron laughs and throws his crisp white button down shirt at him. “It has your blood on it.”

“Sorry,” Robert says and look at the droplets of brownish red dried blood staining the white material. “Hope it wasn't too expensive.”

“It’s just a shirt,” he says as he puts another clean white one on. “Yours is much worse.” Robert looks down at his white t-shirt that has a long line of dried blood staining the fabric.

“I look like I've been in a horror movie,” Robert says as he picked at the stain. “Well it could've been worse.”

“True,” Aaron nods as he starts putting his tie back on, tightening it around his throat and straightening it, then adds his suit jacket. “Let's go,” he walks past Robert out of his bedroom.

“Go where?”

“I'll take you home.”

“You don't have to do that,” Robert says as Aaron begins to put his shoes on. Panic fills his chest, this could be the last time he might get to see Aaron for a month. “What's the rush? We're both here and I'm still hoping you'll take my temperature.”

“Tempting. Very tempting, but I'm already late for work so come on.” Robert sighs but doesn't argue, pulls on his shoes, and follows Aaron out of the flat. They're quiet on the elevator ride, with Robert watching Aaron the whole time. It's odd, the crushing weight of panic that settling in his chest. What he is supposed to do without him for so long? He tries to remember what it was like before he got to steal a few precious hours with Aaron at least twice a week with intermittent pauses during those short travels he takes, but he can't remember. That makes him panic even more, causing his hands to start to shake. He clenches them into fists and presses them painfully into his thighs.

Just as they walk outside a little girl runs past screaming, “daddy, daddy!” She bumps into Aaron, looks once at him then keeps running until she catches up with her father a little ways down the street.

“Is it knock Aaron over day, and I just missed the memo?” Aaron grumbled, but Robert's not listening. He's watching as the father picks the little girl up and swings her around. The little girl screaming “daddy” made Robert remember something. Through this mornings catastrophe he'd forgotten about the letter from Aaron's father, telling him that he's dying. “Robert?” Aaron says breaking Robert out of his trance. He looks over at Aaron who's holding one of the back doors to the Mercedes open for him.

“Sorry,” he mutters and climbs into the car, with Aaron climbing in after him.

“Where to Mr. Dingle?” Nate the driver asks from the front seat.

“Address?” Aaron asks. Robert gives it to him and sits back in the seat, staring out the window, a dilemma mixing with panic inside him. Should I tell him? What will happen if I do? What if he leaves and he dies while he's away and never gets the chance to say goodbye? Why the fuck did I read that letter? I'm so fucking stupid!

“Are you okay? You're awfully quiet.” Tell him, tell him, tell him.

“I'm fine. Head just hurts,” it's not a lie. His head is throbbing and he really wants to take that Paracetamol, but it's at home.

“Bet it does,” and Aaron reaches over to touch it also, their hands brushing together when he does. Robert takes his hand, gives a squeeze before laying it over on Aaron's lap and he turns back to staring out the window.

They pull up outside Robert's apartment building, and the panic increases. This might be it, for a whole month, he turns and almosts shouts at him not to leave. “Have fun in the States,” Robert smiles, but it turns out to be more of a grimace.

“Thanks. Bye,” Aaron smiles. Robert let's out one big sigh before getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him. He watches until the Mercedes disappears. I should have told him.

He forgets that Charles had stayed over last night and that he'd left him a note saying he could hang out in his flat if he wanted, so he was surprised when he walked in and Charles is sitting in his sofa, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. Robert's boxers.

“Hey. Holy shit! What the fuck happened to you?” Charles runs over to him, gently taking his head between his hands and looking his face over. “You're covered in blood, and this bandage. Seriously what happened, your note said you went out for run not a fight?”

“I tripped, hit my head against the pavement. I'm fine,” he removes Charles' hands from his face, going to the fridge and pulling out a carton of orange juice. He keeps his pain killers in a drawer in the kitchen. He takes two and chases them with orange straight from the carton.

“Did you go to hospital? You're all bandaged up,” he lies and he's not sure why.

“No I didn't go to hospital. Someone saw me fall right outside their home, they were kind enough to take me inside and fix me up.”

“Well you should go see a doctor just incase. What if it needs stitches?”

“It's fine, I'm fine. It wasn't that deep of a cut,” he sighs and rubs his temples, wishing the pills would instantly take affect.

“If you're sure.” Charles whispers and takes Robert off guard and steals a kiss from him. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something tonight, but you might not be up for it now.”

“Like a date?” He didn't mean to sound so horrified by the idea, but the last thing he wanted was to start a relationship; with anyone. Even Aaron. He was leaving. Robert wishes Charles wasn't there so he could openly cry instead of doing it on the inside.

“No Robert. You know what forget it. I'm gonna head out,” and now he feels guilty. Stupid fucking emotions.

“Wait! I'm sorry. Charles. My head just hurts really bad. I don't mean to be short with you. What did you have in mind?”

“Thought we could rent a DVD and get some takeaway but honeslty if you're feeling that bad then you should get some rest.”

“I'll be fine,” he says through clenched teeth. It's unfair of him to be upset with Charles just because he's upset with Aaron's leaving. “Let me call Giles first before I give you answer. I don't know if I have any clients.”

“Okay,” Charles nods and waits as Robert makes the call.

“I was just about to call you,” is how Giles answers the phone. “Got a client for you tonight, booked an appointment not five minutes ago.”

“Okay. Who with?”

“Aaron,” Robert looks over at the clock on the stove, he'd been home for about ten minutes now so Aaron must have just made the call. Robert tries to ignore the fluttering feeling in his chest. “Wants you there around five tonight.”

“Alright I'll be there,” Robert says, avoiding Charles’ gaze.

“Come by the shop tomorrow if you don't mind. I got something I want to discuss with you.”

“Yeah sure. Anything else?”

“No. Bye.” He hangs up before robert can say goodbye.

“Sorry I have a client tonight, but maybe another time, yeah?” He tries to ignore the fact that he feels relieved, because honestly Charles’ plans for them sounded like a date.

“Sure. I am gonna head out though. See you,” he catches him off guard a second time with another kiss and Robert does his best not to jerk away from him. “Bye.”

“Yeah bye,” he sighs loudly as the door shuts behind Charles. “This is why you don't fuck your friends.” He shakes his head and really wants to go back to sleep but he knows he can't incase he concussed.

He opted for some telly time and tries - unsuccessfully - to not think about Aaron. Tonight will be his last night with him for at least a month. What if he likes it over there and doesn't want to come back, what if he meets someone, what if he meets someone and brings them back with him?

“Fuck,” Robert curses and shuts the telly off. He'll just have to give Aaron a going away present that will make sure he never forgets Robert.

Chapter Text

Robert takes extra care to look nice, well he always looks nice, but tonight he made sure he's a sight to behold. He owned one suit, purchased a few years back and he was right chuffed to find it still fits - if not better now than when he first bought it. The suit is a rich maroon color, it works well with his skin tone and when Robert looked in the mirror it was hard to recognize his own personal taste. He didn't mind wearing the suit, it's just not something he wore everyday especially when he is fond of his jeans, jumpers, and his black leather jacket. This was for Aaron though and tonight he was all about impressing him. Although he could've done without the white gaudy bandage on his forehead that made him look like an accident victim.

He wishes his hands would stop sweating and superstitiously wipes them against his thighs before knocking on the door to Aaron's flat. He waits a moment before the door swings open, and a tightness in his chest loosens at the sight of the younger man. The smell of rich food wafting out of the flat has Robert's mouth watering - or it could just be the sight of Aaron. They look each other up and down, and Robert couldn't feel more stupid standing there in the suit when he sees Aaron in casual clothes. Black t-shirt, jeans - he surprised Aaron even owns a pair - and white socks. Fuck me.

“Wow,” Aaron breathes out the words, letting his eyes travel the length of Robert's body once more. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you're trying to out do me in the suave category. You look . . . Amazing.”

“Not really,” Robert mumbles, while scratching his nose, wondering where his cocksure attitude has gone. If he wasn't feeling so self-conscious right now he probably would have turned for Aaron, giving him a nice view of his backside, but he just stands there looking like a lost puppy. He doesn't think it's possible for him to feel more foolish by showing up in this suit. What he wouldn't give for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Did you look in the mirror before you came over?” Aaron chuckles and shakes his head, his own heart pounding at an accelerated rate at the sight of Robert in his suit, loving how looks on him but thinking it would look better on his floor. “Well come in,” he steps to the side to let Robert past. “I hope you don't mind French cuisine.” Robert kicks his shoes off by the door and follows Aaron and the delicious scent, towards the kitchen. Along the counter is cooking ingredients and on stove sits a pot, with a lid on it, and steam wafting out the sides.

“I've never had it so I have nothing good nor bad to say about it. As long as it's not snails because then I'm going to make up some excuse to go home, like I think I left the iron on.”

Aaron's laugh was booming, the loudest Robert's ever heard it, and a shivers ran up and down his spine at the sound. “It's not snails. Even I'm not courageous enough to try those. No, it's Beef Bourguignon. I'm not too sure I'm pronouncing that right. It's like a rich beef stew made with wine instead of beef stock.” He pulls a lid off a pot off the stove and the smell gets stronger, and Robert's surprised at the way his stomach growls from just the smell.

“Smells amazing,” he says and steps behind Aaron to look over his shoulder at the stew. “How much longer?” He asks with a laugh, in his haste to get ready he had forgotten to eat.

“Not much,” Aaron says as he stirs the food. “Want some wine?”

“Sure.” He watches as Aaron gets a wine glass for him and pours him a glass of red, and grabs his glass from the counter next to an already empty bottle of wine. “How much have you had?” He asks before he can stop.

“This is the first glass. That bottle went in the stew.” Robert feels embarrassed his tone was accusing. Not my problem. He drinks deep from his own glass, enjoying the spicy richness of the wine on his tongue. “I was surprised when Giles told me you had called. Shouldn't you be packing or something?”

“Got it all done. I travel so much I could pack in my sleep. Flights booked, flat is rented, and the day after tomorrow I'll be overseas.”

“The day after tomorrow? I thought you were leaving tomorrow?”

“I am,” Aaron nods and sets his glass down so he can stir the stew again. “Im traveling to London tomorrow to sort out a few things there, then I'm catching a flight out Monday morning.”

“Are you going alone?” He's fishing and he knows it. It's none of his business if Aaron takes someone with him, but deep down there's a part of him that can't stand the thought of someone else being close to him, getting his attention, his time.

“Afraid so, but I'm sure I'll find some way to keep busy.” Robert's hands clench at his sides, images of some unknown man touching Aaron, running their hands over his masculine body, God forbid even kissing him, float through his mind and he feels sick.

“Pretty little American boys fawning over your good looks. Speak one word to them in that accent of yours, have them coming in their trousers like they're sixteen. It'll be pathetic,” Robert couldn't keep the malice out of his voice, all the while picturing just how easy it would be for someone as gorgeous as Aaron to take what he wants from them and kick them to the curb. The same as he does with me.

“What makes you think I'll have time to play. It's a business trip after all,” he turns around to look at Robert who didn't have time to compose his face, and Aaron was able to see the jealousy etched in his features. “Or maybe,” Aaron says, pushing him just to see how jealous Robert will get, “they have lovely rent boys I could hire. Young blonde ones, with expert tongues, and know how to make a man come hard. Who knows, maybe they can do it better than you.” A thrill runs through Aaron as the jealousy mounts on his face. It's an incredible turn on him for him, seeing Robert get jealous over him. Almost as if he can't stand the thought of him being with someone else.

Robert's jaw clenches and he walks swiftly towards Aaron, grabs him by the waist and turns them around and shoves Aaron hard against the kitchen island. He doesn't say anything, no need for words when he can show Aaron just how good he can give it, how no one can make Aaron come harder than him. He drops to his knees and works the button open on them, and pulls them and his boxers down around Aaron's thighs; releasing his soft cock.

He looks up at Aaron with jealous filled eyes. “No one can do it like me,” he spat and took Aaron's soft member into his mouth, down to the base, and holds him there. You're right, Aaron thinks as his eyes flutter shut and head falls back, mouth popping open into an O, no one can do it like you. Aaron has never been with someone as experienced as Robert, and he hates to think about the fact that Robert's had a lot of practice, but at times like these he's glad he knows just what the fuck he's doing.

Robert bobs his head, working Aaron's cock to full hardness and pulls back so only the tip is left in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the head, dipping it into the slit making Aaron keen and sink his hands into Robert's soft blonde hair. Fuck, I'm gonna miss this. Miss you. Aaron thinks as he bucks hips to try and get Robert to take him down again. Robert puts a hand on his abdomen to hold him in place, it's his show and he's fucking running it.

He sucks on the head, letting spit slide down Aaron's shaft to get it nice and wet and wraps his hand around his cock to start stroking him. His mouth starts working down again, following a fluid rhythm with his hand. The lovely noises coming from Aaron have Robert's own cock twitching and swelling in his trousers, and he pushes down on his erection to try and relieve some of the ache.

Robert reaches up with his free hand to massage Aaron's balls, as he hums around his cock. The grip Aaron has on Robert's hair tightens and he pulls, making Robert moan and palm his own erection more. Robert pulls off to gulp down two deep breaths before swallowing Aaron's cock down to the base, and he knows Aaron's close from the way his cock is pulsing in his throat and from the way Aaron's moans are turning animalistic.

“I'm gonna come,” Aaron warns him and tries to push Robert's head away. It's a rule of Robert's, not swallowing his clients come - the reason being he's never really enjoyed it and Robert felt it to be very intimate act, and he's stuck by that rule even with Aaron. But if he can't break his rule to kiss him, then he's breaking this rule. Besides he wants to give Aaron something to remember him by, and what better way than for him to have the memory of what it feels like to shoot his load down Robert's throat whilst Robert's warm inviting mouth enveloped his cock. He loosens Aaron's hold on his head and pins his arms by his sides as he bobs his head faster. Aaron's cock pulsates in his mouth, his whole body tenses and he comes down Robert's throat, and he swallows all of it. Robert grimaces around his cock, remembering exactly why he doesn't swallow when some of Aaron's salty come touches his tongue where the taste buds are most sensitive. Still even through the distaste he sucks Aaron's slowly softening cock until Aaron is whimpering in satisfaction and over sensitivity.

Robert let Aaron's cock slip from his lips, letting his tongue catch on the head one last time, making Aaron's hips jerk forward. Robert keeps his arms pinned by his sides and starts kissing the inside of his thighs, pushing his t-shirt up with his head to lick over the scars on his abdomen, and he sinks his teeth in Aaron's hip bone making the him mewl and struggle in Robert's grip, wanting free to touch Robert also.

“Robert,” Aaron whines out his name, encouraging Robert to continue to lick and kiss over his abdomen, his tongue pressing flat against each jagged scar. He dips his tongue into Aaron's navel, his hands traveling up underneath his T-shirt to play with his hard nipples.

Aaron's head drops forward and a small whine escaped as his hands sink back into Robert's hair now that he's free. Each touch and kiss making his cock try and rise again with a valiant effort. And Robert's cock is still so hard, but he ignores it, focusing all his attention on Aaron. He's about to turn him around, give his backside just as much as attention as he did to the front, eat him out until Aaron's hard again and fuck him so good he changes his mind about leaving when Aaron shouts out Robert's name in panic. Robert let's him go, scared that he’s done something to upset him, and Aaron shoved him away.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Aaron shouts, running over to the stove - almost tripping over his jeans around his ankles - and grabbed the handles of the pot that has burst into flames. “Ouch! Fuck!”

Robert is too shocked to move. Staying on his knees by the island, staring as Aaron grabs the lid to the pot and covers it, smothering out the flames. Smoke curled and filled the flat and a high pitch loud beeping of a smoke detector began that had Robert covering his ears.

“Shit!” Aaron growls and grabs a tea towel and begins to wave it in the air, trying to clear the smoke out so the damn detector will go off. It takes some time but finally the noise stops and Robert uncovers his ears. The smoke is thick and almost choking, leaving a bad taste in Robert's mouth. He still hasn't moved from his spot on the floor. He had been so immersed in Aaron, all of his senses filled with him that he completely missed a fire breaking out. A part of him found it funny, whilst another part found it scary that he could get so lost in Aaron that a fire breaks out and he doesn't even notice. I've got it bad. He thinks and runs a hand through his hair.

Aaron pulls his jeans and boxers up, more embarrassed than upset about the fire. He strides into the living room, avoiding looking at Robert on the floor, and goes to open the balcony doors to help the smoke clear out. He steps outside, walking over to edge and takes deep breaths of the clean air. He's embarrassed by the fact that he was so consumed by Robert and everything he was doing to him that he let their dinner catch fire. He's not even sure how it's possible it happened. He takes a few more deep breaths, not wanting to go back in and face Robert. The urge for a good stiff drink almost has his hands shaking with need, and it wins out over the embarrassment and he goes back in.

One of his end tables by the sofa holds his decanter of scotch and a few glasses. He pours some of the amber liquid into the glass, filling it halfway full, and downs most of it in one go and then fills it back up again. He looks up to see Robert watching him and he hates the way he's looking at him. A mixture of concern and judgment on his face. It reminds him of his mum when he goes home and she counts the number of drinks he has, and tries to limit him like he's a child.

Robert sighs, once again telling himself it's not his place to worry and turns around and walks over to the stove, using an the towel Aaron had used to try and clear the smoke to remove the lid off the stew pot. The food inside is burnt and turned into a sticky mush, completely ruined. Robert sighs, it had looked delicious.

Aaron clears his throat and goes back into the kitchen, opening up a drawer filled with miscellaneous items, including a bunch of different takeaway menus. “What are you in the mood for? I’ve got menus for Thai, Chinese, Indian, and a bunch of others.” He pushes the menus towards Robert who takes them from him. “That Indian place does a great curry.”

“Okay,” Robert nods and hands back the menus, glad that he doesn’t have to got through all of them and make a decision. “Let’s go with that.”

“Alright, I’ll call the order in.”

Robert drinks his wine, the air becoming cleaner with the balcony doors open, and listens as Aaron orders the curries for them. “It should be about a half hour,” Aaron said and set the phone down on the island, hands clutching at the edges of the counter top. “Sorry about dinner.”

“It’s fine,” Robert shrugs. “Kind of my fault.”

“I should’ve paid more attention,” Aaron grumbles, shooting a dark look over at the stew pot.

He’s angry with himself. He wouldn’t be seeing Robert for a month, maybe more depending on how well his business ventures went. He had wanted to do something nice for him, different from just the mindless fucking that goes on between them. Aaron only planned the dinner because he’s afraid Robert will forget him while he’s away and when he comes back things will be different somehow. They're familiar and comfortable with each other and when he comes home he doesn't want to find that things changed between them. He doesn't want to lose what they have now, even though it's not much but Robert is the closest thing Aaron had to someone special in his life. He tries not to think about how sad that is.

“It’s kind of difficult to pay attention with my lips wrapped around your cock.” Robert said, trying to lighten the mood. Tonight was supposed to be about saying goodbye and the last thing he wants - either of them want - is for it to be tense and uncomfortable. Robert was uncomfortable enough, his own need for release trapped inside, pulsing underneath his skin, still being able to taste Aaron on his tongue even through the lingering taste of smoke and wine wasn't helping. “I mean I know how good I am!”

“If you expect me to stroke your ego, then you're in for a rude awakening, mate.” Aaron said dryly.

“Well if you don't want to stroke my ego you can always stroke something else,” Robert says suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows as he did. Aaron's lips turn up at the corners, not into a real smile but Robert thought it was a start. He plans on having Aaron laughing by the end of the night.