#mackrobron

Oh hell yeah, anon! We need something like this! Get in the ED writers' room! More Mack flirting with men and bi vs bi war for Aaron's affection!

Btw, wouldn't it be great with more male bi/pan representation? This could be such a good way for Mack to realize and/or acknowledge that he isn't as straight as he thinks he is/presents himself as.

I was tagged by @glitradora (last week lol!) to post a snippet of a wip project. I seem to have scrapped a load of stuff recently so here's a bit of the kinktober threesome fic that I am definitely not writing...

Aaron is always baffled when people describe Robert as ‘a good liar’. How is it that no one else can see how blatantly he wears his feelings on his face? Concern in the crease of his brow, sarcasm in the corner of his eyes, betrayal in the downward twist of his mouth. 

But now, Robert’s face is as blank as a sheet of paper. It's weird. Unsettling. Aaron can feel his own eyes twitching as he desperately searches Robert’s face for any sign, any clue, about where this is all going.

Mack shifts awkwardly, still tucked in the vee of Aaron’s legs. It does not make the position they have been caught in any less compromising. 

“Look, Robert… I’m so sorry…" Mack stutters, "I don’t know what came over me… I just…” 

And that’s when Aaron realises. If Robert was mad, he’d be able to tell straight away - Rob's jealously is so unsubtle - and Mack would have been lifted off the sofa and shoved through the door before any of them could blink.

Hell, Aaron knows that’s what he would have done, if their positions were reversed and Robert was the one with a squirming Scotsman pressed between his knees. 

“Is he sober?” Robert asks quietly, voice as empty as his face. He looks over the top of Mack's head. “Are you?” 

“We’ve had a few beers. Nothing more.” Aaron is surprised by how rough his voice is. 

Mack is still trying to stumble around an apology, “It was all me, Rob. Aaron didn’t do anything. He didn’t even kiss me back…” 

Aaron ignores the slight edge of disappointment in his best friend’s face, focusing instead on the way that Robert is stalking over to their spot on the sofa, eyes dark with something that Aaron hasn’t seen for so many years. 

“Mack,” Robert says. Oh, he’s using his soft voice. The hairs on Aaron’s neck stand up on reflex. 

“I get it,” he continues, “Aaron is so fit…”