shitty flash is shitty

You know which two actors really need to meet and share similar stories about their totally gay characters that were forced into a straight relationship for whatever reason while having this big ass crush on the male protagonist, and how much they tried to convince the writers to at least let their characters kiss the male protagonist but nothing ever came out of it? 

Tom Felton and Martin Wallström

This is our last chance to negotiate.

I'm going to end this.

do not ask me where this came from. it just appeared in my mind fully formed and i wanted to write it and considering i haven’t wanted to write anything properly in months, well… i decided to go with it.

basically, this is how i imagine the post-reveal discussion happening once the dust has settled and the fighting has stopped (aka how i dream it happening because lbr we won’t ever be this lucky!)


He stood in the doorway, watching as Aaron slipped out of his jeans and climbed into bed. They hadn’t spoken in an hour. Robert knew because he’d been glancing at his watch every few minutes, waiting for Aaron to erupt and kick him out. He had been expecting it all day, but even as Aaron raged, hands balled into fists, eyes watery with tears, he hadn’t told Robert to leave.

A miracle.

“Stop hovering and get over here.”

Robert jumped, hitting his shoulder off the door-frame. Aaron glanced up for a moment and then slowly, cautiously, patted the duvet. His feet moved without him, desperate to be closer to his husband even if he was just waiting for the rejection he knew was coming.

He clambered onto his side, limbs awkward and gangling, feeling like a teenager waiting to be scolded. Even in the narrow bed there was still a gap between them. Robert felt sick.

Aaron sighed and then slid further under the covers, lifting his arm and looking to Robert who just stared back.

“I’m not gonna bite. Come on.”

He stayed staring for a moment, too dumbfounded to move, and then felt himself falling into Aaron’s embrace, gravity doing the work. Tentatively, he pressed his lips to Aaron’s bare, tanned chest and then pillowed his head there, listening to the heavy metronome of Aaron’s heart just beneath his ear.

“We’ve gotten through worse,” Aaron said into the darkness, his voice a low rumble and a little faded at the edges, drowsy. Robert rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezed out of reassurance for them both - I’m here, we’re here, together - and tucked his nose into Aaron’s neck.

“You shouldn’t have to put up with this. With me,” he whispered into soft, warm skin, and Aaron’s arm immediately curled tight around Robert’s waist, pulling him in closer.

“Don’t say that.” It was a warning, a hazard light flashing, but Robert pushed on.

“It’s true. You could be happy right now and instead-”

“Who says I’m not happy,” Aaron cut in, pushing himself further up the bed into a half-sitting position, dragging Robert with him. And even in the darkness Robert could see the stubborn set of his shoulders, the sharp line of his jaw jutting out. It was at once endearing and heartbreaking, the sheer strength of will Aaron seemed to possess, his utter refusal to give in even when… even when it would have been better for him.

“Aaron,” Robert began, elbow digging into the mattress so he could keep his balance, “don’t play it down. Don’t make out like your okay with this.” It was one thing to see Aaron resilient, but it was another to have him forcing a smile. Robert couldn’t cope with anymore lies, and especially none that were designed to spare him pain or guilt.

He wanted to feel it. He needed to. It was currently the only thing keeping him anchored.

“I’m not okay,” Aaron answered, and even though Robert knew it already, the raw honesty of the words lanced through him, sharp and merciless.

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