#robron fanction
Snippet from my newest plot bunny! Post Prison Robron with a side of PTSD inspired by @nooneelsecomesclose17 I’m sorry in advance :P
“Seb never told ya why he didn’t go that school dance last year did he?” Robert says. He doesn’t look angry anymore, just defeated. Exhausted.
“He did, he said his mates weren’t going,” Aaron replies with a shrug. “They were all staying in to play Call Of Duty or whatever,”
“They all went Aaron,” Robert continues flatly. “All of them except Seb. He’d asked a girl out in his class and she said yes. Made up he was. Except her Dad found out about me the day before the dance. He didn’t want his daughter getting mixed up with a murderer’s kid,”
Aaron feels as though he’s just taken a shot straight to the heart. He opens his mouth and closes it just as quickly.
“Of course he didn’t tell ya,” Robert replies. He’s smiling and shaking his head but his expression is far from humourous. “He told me. Had it out with me that night. I wasn’t even mad,” he shrugs. “He’s got a right to feel that way. That’s when I started to realise that I do more harm for the boys than good,”
“Robert…no,” Aaron protests. For the past few months he’s been feeling like his heart was breaking. Now he knows that it really is. “Don’t say that. We need ya. I need ya. The boys need ya-“
“The boys need you Aaron. You’ve been their father for the past fourteen years.” Robert’s face has become an expressionless mask. He looks so dead behind the eyes that it shakes Aaron to his very core. Whatever shit they’ve been through before, it’s always been charged with emotion. Whether it’s anger, sadness or happiness. It’s always been with passion. But the man standing before him, overnight bag in hand, is a shadow of his former self. A shell of Robert Sugden.
Aaron feels the tears well up and start to spill over. He wants to be able to say the magic words that will make all of this go away and bring his husband back.
“I need ya…” he repeats. He does. He does. He does. Always.
If Robert hears him, he doesn’t acknowledge it. His grip tightens on the handles of his overnight bag. He turns and walks away. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him.
My Brain - You should finish the Aaron Sick Fic and also the Ghost au fic you started writing and have already posted
Also My Brain - OH BUT WAIT THO. How about a fic where it’s 5 years since Robert came out of prison and he’s only just beginning to process the trauma causing a rift in his marriage with Aaron and relationship with a teenage Seb???
Look at what I have to work with here. T.T
Happy Monday everyone :)
Anyone interested in some Aaron and Adam banter? here’s a snippet from my current WIP that I’m writing alongside Lucky Man. It’s an AU of the movie Ghost.
And uh…Aaron’s the ghost *dodges the flying fruit*
And I included a little reference that I hope @softhusbandsand@robandaaronsoulmates will appreciate ;)
“You know this is mad right? like absolutely mental?” Adam asks as he adjusts his too-tight tie. He glances at his reflection in a shop window. “And I look like a right idiot!”
“You look like someone who has a lot of money,” Aaron replies. “And I’ll teach you what you need to know. You’ll learn fast,”
“You sure you know what you’re doing? Did you say you used to be a writer or something? what do you know about banking?” Adam demands. They’re across the street from the bank now, traffic whizzing by and people hurrying to and fro, heading to work or shopping. Even with all the noise going on, Aaron can hear that Adam is breathing faster. The bank itself is a large, multistoried imposing building with a guard standing near the door and posters up in the window advertising all kinds of banking jargon like portfolios and investments.
“Yeah, no worries. I’ve been with Robert for five years, can’t ever get him to shut up about banking. Ya wouldn’t think there’d be that much to say about it but you’d be very wrong,” Aaron answers.
*****
“This is so mad, so so mad,” Adam mutters under his breath as they walk into the bank and past the stern looking guard. He gives Adam a look up and down but doesn’t say anything.
“Shut up,” Aaron replies. “At least try to look like you know what you’re doing!”
“For the last time mate, I’m a labourer not a banking whizz,” Adam fires back out of the corner of his mouth. “Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty fucking uppity for a ghost?”
“You’re the one who looks like he’s talking to himself,” Aaron says with a shrug. He gives Adam a little nudge in the ribs. Not enough to be noticed by anyone around them, but enough to remind him to get his game face on. “See where it says new accounts? head over there,”
“What?” Adam whispers peevishly. “I’m not giving them my money! You never said anything about having to-”
Aaron gives him another dig in the ribs, harder this time. Adam flinches slightly but luckily no-one spots it.
“Just do what I say!”
“Can I help you sir?” The man sitting behind the accounts desk asks. He offers Adam one of those false customer service smiles.
“Tell him you’re here to fill out a signature card for a new account,” Aaron says.
“I’m here to fill out a signature card for a new account,” Adam parrots to the guy. He’s started to sweat a little. He tugs on the collar of his shirt.
“Certainly Sir,” The man answers. “If I could just take your account number?”
“926-31043” Aaron says immediately. He can’t help but smile when Adam repeats it back and the guy nods and types it into his computer. Joe Tate is going to get everything that’s coming to him.
“Name on the account please?” The bank worker asks.
“Ben Tucker,”
“Ben Tucker,” Adam parrots back to the worker. “What kind of wanky name is that?” He mutters to Aaron. The bank worker looks at him oddly. Adam flashes his best winning smile. The worker however, doesn’t appear to be convinced.
“Didn’t they get you to sign one when you first opened the account Mr…ah…Tucker?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Tell him that Joe Tate opened it for you by phone and then asked you to come in today,” Aaron replies.
“Oh, Joe Tate opened it for me,” Adam says with an airy wave of his hand. “He told me to stop by today to get it sorted,”
“Ah, no problem Mr Tucker, one moment please,” The guy stands up and walks over to another desk.
Adam gets another dig in the ribs.
“Could you be less sus?” Aaron demands.
“Ow! could you be less of a twat?” Adam says defensively, rubbing his side. “I don’t have to do any of this y’know! I was happy as Larry until you came along with your demands and your bloody ‘Call Me Maybe’! You do realise that listening to that chorus for nearly two hours is enough to drive anyone insane?”
“And you’ll get another two hours of it if you don’t stop acting dodgy!” Aaron warns. “Look mate, I appreciate everything you’re doing for me ok? He’s coming back. Just sign your name on the bottom of the card,”
“Here we are Mr Tucker,” The man says as he slides a card across the desk. Aaron watches as Adam takes the card and the proffered pen and then signs ‘Ben Tucker’ with a slightly shaking hand.
“Now tell him to put it in the third floor file because you have a transaction to make,” He’s surprised by exactly how much of these processes he remembers. Still, Robert’s always talked about his work in extreme detail. It used to bore Aaron to tears but now he’d give anything to be sitting on the sofa with his husband, beer in hand, while he’s told about the finer details of investment banking.
He hears Adam repeat the phrase and the worker’s generic reply as he disappears through a nearby door to file the card correctly. He frowns as Adam slips the pen into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“What?” Adam looks affronted. “It’s a decent pen!”
