I cannot get over Yongguk in a kitchen being domestic. This is going to consume my waking hours, destroying my sleep pattern as I lie staring at the ceiling imagining Yongguk dressed comfortably cutting food. This content is Too Soft. Too Domestic.
I wish you would write a fic where Robert talks about losing Pat to Aaron...(idk if you are still doing these...)
“Who’s that then?” Aaron asked, squinting at the yellowing photograph in Robert’s hands.
Robert looked up, in his own little world for a second before he replied, brushing a thumb over the kindly face in the photograph. “My mum,” he said, glancing at the photo again. He couldn’t be more than a few weeks old in the phone, a tiny baby with a shock of white blonde hair peeking out from underneath a tiny knitted hat. “My real mum, Pat.”
Pat Sugden, the mother he’d never known. He’d only been a few months old when she’d died, no where near old enough to even have a fuzzy memory of her, no one around to tell him about his mum.
He knew next to nothing about the woman who’d brought him into the world, the woman he’d gotten half his genetics from.
Robert looked up, his vision blurry with tears as he looked at his husband. “I didn’t know her,” he said quietly, hating the way his voice cracked as he spoke. How could he possibly feel grief for a woman he’d never known?
“How old were you when you died?” Aaron asked, sitting down next to Robert on the edge of their bed, a reassuring hand on Robert’s knee, his fingers digging into Robert’s leg, grounding him, keeping him in the room.
It was hard, to talk about this sort of thing, but Aaron helped, Aaron always helped.
“Five months old,” Robert replied quietly, looking at the photo again. He recognised it as Emmerdale Farm, the rolling green fields of his childhood home, his tiny baby self bundled up in Pat’s arms. “How can I feel sad about someone I never knew?”
“I guess maybe you mourn the mum you never had.” Aaron said, trying his best, just like he always did.
Robert nodded. “I just….. It wasn’t enough that I lost my real mum, you know? Pat died when I was a baby, and I was lucky enough to get another mum in Sarah, and then I lost her too. Hows that fair? Some people get a mum for their whole lives, and both of mine had died by time I was fifteen.”
Aaron’s arms were instantly around him, calloused palms rubbing gently up and down Robert’s arms as he started to cry, feeling jealous, and sad, and overwhelmed all at once. He saw it everyday, saw Bernice with Diane and was so jealous of the fact his step-sister still had a mum, still had a parent to love her. He saw it with Laurel, and Doug, and half the bloody village - parents still alive, still loving their kids, and here he was, his parents, all three of his parents dead, his brother on the run, a step-mother who never really knew him, not really.
Where was the fairness in all of that?
“You can share my mum,” Aaron said, resting his chin on Robert’s shoulder, his gaze on the photo now too, the only photo Robert had left of Pat. “I know it’s not the same, but…”
Robert couldn’t help but smile through his tears. “Thank you,” he murmured, leaning his head against Aaron’s. “I’ve got a brother and a sister, my mum’s kids from her first marriage.”
“Really?” Aaron sounded surprised.
Robert nodded, thinking of the brother and sister he barely knew, just knew by name. “Haven’t seen them since I was a kid, I wouldn’t even know where to find them now.”
“Maybe you should try and find them,” Aaron suggested, holding him tighter. “Could be nice.”
Robert shrugged. “I’ve got my family here, haven’t I?”
Aaron pressed a kiss to the side of Robert’s head, smiling against Robert’s skin. “Yeah, you have.”