He knows it's a mistake. All of it. Going after him, hunting him down, letting him loose, bringing him to safety -- - and now? Staying with him, kissing him, standing there trying to satiate his thirst by the faintest brush of his fingers against the back of Ben's hand. It's so careful, tentative, like trying to pet a wild animal, terrified that it might turn at any second, like another side will be triggered and bite off his hand. Not literally, of course, Robbie's skin was too tough for that, but metaphorically, he knows how dangerous this is. Not just for himself, but for the both of them.
There's a part of him that swears it's Ben who's standing there. Would Soldier Boy have even let him get close? Let him graze his skin without some nasty colourful comment surely involving some vile and foul mouthed descriptions of dicks somewhere in between. A jab at every low point he could find in the man he used to know, strike him time and time again, twist a metaphorical knife in his side until the pilot just can't take it anymore. Maybe he's still expecting it, to be met with the man he couldn't take anymore, the man he's spent all of this time trying to run from, trying to avoid, even inside his own head.
Fuck, his voice, his name on the tip of his lips, so quiet, so gentle that it breaks Robbie's heart and sends every time piece plummeting into the pit of his stomach.
He has to look up at him then, blue eyes sparkling with tears, such emotion, such weakness, the perfect sight for Soldier Boy to tear into, to ruthlessly ridicule until he's blue in the face. Fuck it. If this is all he can get of Ben, he'll take it, doesn't matter how long or how little it lasts, he just needs that tiny sliver that remains for a single second. Please. I just need to know you're still in there somewhere.
Strength of will slips away from him entirely as he suddenly lifts both of his hands and grasps the taller man by the face, pulling him close, planting his lips tight against his. He wants the taste of his lips, he needs it, even if it's one last time. He doesn't care that the tears are streaming down his cheeks, all that's stopping his lips from quaking is that they're pressed against Ben's, moving against them, savouring him, devouring as a breath hitches in the back of his throat and he pulls away just to take in some air that he almost forgets he needs.
"Ben..." He whispers, fingers trace the brunette's jaw line, taking him in, the beard, his more unkept appearance compared to their old days. They haven't changed much, not with the passage of times, but there's differences. Robbie hasn't shaved, stubble lining his face, hair not combed off his forehead, just casual, doing whatever it wants. His eyes? They're not old, but they look -- - tired. Of everything.
"Tell me to stop, and I'll go..." His voice barely manages to get, searching his face, giving him the option. "One word, and you never have to see me again. I promise."