“Robert, give me the control,” Aaron practically growled, lunging across the couch to swipe at the remote, Robert holding it as far away as he could, a cheeky grin on his face.
“I’m not giving it back until you say it,” Robert said, grateful for the marginal height difference between them as he held the remote out of Aaron’s reach. His husband could most definitely just pin Robert to the cushions and take it by force, he was ten times stronger than Robert was, but he was playing along.
Aaron glared at him, looking positively ridiculous. They were having a lazy evening in, the cold and wet November weather outside not making them want to go to the pub - he had a hoodie on, the hood pulled up around his ears, making him look like the chavvy teenager he used to be, black hoodie and tracksuit pants on.
“You can have all the control of the telly for the rest of the evening if you just say it,” Robert said, waggling the control at Aaron. There was some boring gardening program playing in the background, and Aaron had gotten bored before the title credits had even rolled, demanding they put on Netflix and watch something half decent.
Maybe he was being childish.
Robert was definitely being childish, but he didn’t mind so much. He liked being able to mess with Aaron like this, the silly domesticity of it all making his heart feel lighter in his chest.
After all they’d been through, after everything that it had taken for them to get to where they were now, happy and settled and content, well - a bit of childish silliness wasn’t a bad idea at all.
“I love you,” Aaron said, giving in to Robert’s game, to his demands that Aaron tell him he love him before he handed the remote over.
Robert beamed, passing him the remote. “See? Wasn’t that hard,” he teased, settling back into the middle of the couch, Aaron leaning against him as he turned on Netflix, flicking through their recommendations, somehow still skewed by Liv’s constant secret watching of terrible teen dramas, despite Robert setting her up her own profile. He was so sure she did it to piss him off, now.
Aaron hummed, flicking through tv show, after tv show until he settled on Prison Break, the two of them halfway through a re-watch. “Why did you make me say it?” he inquired, the title credits filling their brand new, overly large television, bought on a whim when Robert had gotten a massive bonus for landing a new client.
“Why did you make me say it when you already know?” Aaron asked, twisting so he was looking at Robert.
You already know.
Of course he already knew. Robert had always known, even when he hadn’t wanted to admit to it.
Aaron had loved him for so much longer than Robert deserved, loved him with longing looks and soft eyes and an open heart.
Still, he was only human, and he wanted to hear it sometimes, hear the words, rather than feel them.
Robert shrugged, ducking his head to hide the flush that had risen in his cheeks as Aaron had questioned him, questioned his reason for the silly game they’d just played. “I just like hearing you say it aloud, I guess.”