#rw19

Waiting for Robert to get out of the shower sometimes felt like an eternity. He didn’t know exactly what his husband did in there that took so long, but there was only so much scrolling through Facebook and checking, double-checking and triple-checking all his emails Aaron could take before he demanded Robert get a move on, usually with a quip about them not having all day and him wanting to have his wicked way with him before he disappeared off to meetings and conference calls. 

Bored of his phone, he let it drop to his side on the bed and looked around the room, their room, taking in all the little details that made it theirs. Enlarged in a dark wooden frame on the right-hand wall was their wedding photo, neither of them looking at the camera but instead right at each other, smiles wide enough and bright enough to give the sun a run for its money. He thought he remembered that moment; he’d been laughing at something Robert had said, leaning in so that they were practically cheek-to-cheek, red-faced from the breeze and from their own happiness. Robert’s hand on his waist, new silver ring gleaming. Being so close to him that he could see the drying tear tracks on his face that matched his own, though he’d deny it vehemently to anyone who asked later. 

Accompanying it were smaller photographs from that day. Aaron with his arm around his mum. One of Diane, Robert and Vic. Liv and Seb, his tiny fingers wound around a lock of his aunt’s hair. Liv kissing a laughing, tipsy Robert on the cheek. Seb and Aaron, fast asleep on the sofa in the back room of the pub, a quick nap before they’d left on their honeymoon that Robert had teased him about, snapping the photo without him knowing, cooing at how cute it was. 

Then there was the overflowing clothes hamper, spilling Aaron’s black t-shirts and Robert’s jeans, odd socks dotted about on the carpet. A shirt of Robert’s hanging up on the wardrobe door. Aaron’s tablet, charging on a shelf. A recent issue of a car magazine on top of the chest of drawers, well-thumbed by them both, and the sports section of the newspaper from a few days before. A stack of Robert’s favourite books. The coat hooks on the wall with a backboard that said Mr & Mr, a gift from (strangely) Cain and Moira, Robert’s leather jacket hanging up next to Aaron’s current favourite hoodie and the most expensive item of clothing he owned, a fancy coat that Robert had insisted on buying him because “if you get a good one, it’ll last for ages and you’ll save loads of money down the road”.

Plus, his husband had told him he looked fit in it.

His gaze eventually fell on the bedside table, where there was another wedding photo, this time from the first time round they’d wed; it was still special to them, just as important a milestone as the second, legal one, and all the more so because of what it had meant at that particular time in their relationship. Yes, there were bad memories attached to it, both before and after, but they’d decided to keep it because it was a reminder of the one thing that hadn’t changed over the years; how much they loved each other and how, without the other, nothing seemed to make any sense.

And there, lying next to the photograph, was Robert’s watch.

Aaron’s fingers reached for it before he could think about it; he held it in his hand gently, as if he were holding something ancient and invaluable. The strap was still warm from Robert’s skin, the watch face shining and immaculate, and holding it, to Aaron, was like holding a prize jewel. Since he’d given it back to him, he’d almost never seen him take it off, like the thing was practically glued to his wrist. 

He still remembered the look on Robert’s face on their wedding day, when he’d brought it out of his pocket and held it up, waiting for Robert to recognize it and understand, in those few seconds, what it was and what Aaron was trying to say. I guess it was proof that you never lost me either. 

He turned the watch over in his hand, to read the inscription on the back. That had been an interesting story to tell the jeweller when he’d gotten the engraving done: both their wedding dates, side by side, immortalized in silver for the man he loved more than anything or anyone else in the world. 

“Oi, you’re not thinking about nickin’ that again, are ya?” 

Robert sauntered out of the bathroom, finally done with his shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. That only made Aaron’s eyes go straight to his chest, eyeing up the muscles there that shone from the damp of the shower, his mind momentarily distracted from the watch entirely. He licked his lips involuntarily, allowing his gaze to travel down in the direction of the part of Robert that was - for now - covered by the towel. 

“Nah,” he shrugged, shaking his head. He ran his thumb over the back of the engraving again, feeling the indents of the numbers. As if he needed reminding of what they were; he’d committed them to memory, after all. “Jus’ thinkin’, is all.”

 “Ooh, sounds dangerous,” Robert teased, flinging the damp towel he’d used to scrub at his hair into the hamper and coming to sit next to Aaron on the edge of the bed, which earned him a kick at his arse from Aaron’s foot. 

“Shut up, you,” he muttered. He held up the watch, his expression soft. He started to smile.  “Was thinkin’ bout this. Never take it off, do ya?”

“Of course I don’t. You gave it to me,” Robert said simply. “It means more to me than almost any other gift you’ve ever given me.”

“Apart from these?” Aaron asked, holding up his left hand to indicate his wedding ring.  

“Obviously,” Robert replied softly. He reached for the watch, took it out of Aaron’s hand. “But this, this is....it’s so precious to me, Aaron.” He thumbed the engraved dates, running his finger over and over them. “No, it’s more than that, it’s - it’s priceless. You gave this to me our wedding day and told me I'd never lost ya. You have no idea what that meant, after - after everything...” 

Robert’s voice hitched, and Aaron was sitting up in a flash, coming to rest his chin on his husband’s bare shoulder, his hand on his waist.

“Ssh,” he soothed, “S’all in the past now, innit? You don’t have to feel that way anymore.”

“I know.” Robert held up the watch, sniffing slightly. “Put this on me?”

Wordlessly, Aaron reached for it, and put it on Robert’s wrist; his hands, so used to working with intricate machinery and scrap metal parts, found the strap and buckle so easy to manoeuvre, adjusting it just how he knew Robert liked it, so that it wouldn’t fall off but wasn’t too tight. 

“Feels weird seeing ya without it, if I’m honest,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the soft and slightly worn leather of the strap. 

"It feels weird not wearin' it," Robert replied. "Like there's a part of me that's missin'".

"Sappy git," Aaron mumbled, rubbing the stubble of his beard against Robert's shoulder. "S'only a watch."

"No, it's not," Robert disagreed, and turned his head to kiss him. His lips were soft and warm, his skin sweet-smelling from his shower gel, and Aaron drank him in welcomingly, the soft hair over Robert's forehead tickling him.

Aaron pulled away and fingered at the tucked hem of the towel, a wicked grin on his face. "Let me get this thing off of ya so I can see ya wearin' it, then...and only it."