Martin/Alex/Erik - le snuggles

[doomhoops]

Fandom: Crosscanon: XMFC + Murder in Mind
Pairing: Alex Summers/Erik Lehnsherr/Martin Vosper
Category: Mostly fluff
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Rentboys and nightmares and awkward threeway relationships
Summary: Rentboys adopted by Erik AU, snuggles after Martin has nightmares.

Some nights, Martin hasn't had a hit recently enough and the shakes are getting to him. Erik pays for the apartment and the food and Alex brings him clothes, but neither will support his addiction, but at least when he works, it’s not for the bare necessities any longer. Alex does simply because he can't be comfortable depending on someone else paying for him. On those nights, Alex can hear his moans the next room over, like someone sickly and in pain, through the wall of his bedroom, and dutifully, he'll get out of bed and wander over, no matter the hour. It's that innate sense to take care of his friend - Alex just does. He'll crawl into the blankets with him and tug him close and hold his bony, frail figure as the shivers and small convulsions are ridden out, pulling groans and quiet sobs.

And some nights, Alex feels just as lost and desperate and terrified as Martin does, needing that contact and stability that his friend does. It’s not enough just to say ‘he’ll survive it’ or think ‘we’re okay this way’ and ‘we do what we have to do’. Some night, lying there while he tries to hold his friend together, he thinks about what his life was before the accident, what Martin’s must have been before addiction, and the lose of that, and the shock of ‘what I used to be’ too much to know neither of them can ever go back there. Which is when he wraps up Martin in his sheets and hoists him up. It might not have been such an easy task if Martin were his usual, healthy weight, but as is, he's fairly light. Shaking form cradled to him, he makes the short trek down the hallway, bare feet padding softly over carpet, to the master bedroom, slipping through the partly cracked door and shuffles to the edge of the bed, glancing down at Erik, sleeping soundly on the generously sized mattress.

He'll try to set Martin down gently, without disturbing him, but Martin's not exactly quiet in this state and Erik's a light sleeper. The older man rouses, mumbles something about 'what time is it' and 'why aren't you in bed', to which Alex ignores, as a moment later he'll register Martin and it'll be fairly clear what he's doing out of bed and the hour won't matter.

He doesn't leave him there - he never abandons Martin - but crawls in as well. Not asking permission, just doing so, maneuvering over Martin, now huddling up to Erik’s side, and goes to occupy the other, slipping under the covers. The first time, it had been awkward. Martin was coming apart and Alex didn’t know what better to do than stand just at the edge of the bed, waiting for Erik to do something or say something or tell him to get out. But it was just a silent moving of sheet to allow the two of them in. This is what Erik offers and its arguably greater than any of the other generous charities he allows them - this comfort. The arms to crawl into at 4am or warm, solid chest to curl up against and feel stable and secure when they're both wondering how the fuck they got here and why they do this to themselves and how can you ever get to a point of Better when you've sunken so low.

Erik doesn't ask because he's definitely smart enough to know, and while Alex was wary of him before, wondering why someone so well off would bother with them, all he has to do is look at Martin and his innate want to care for him and that's enough to shut his worries up about it. Maybe there's still self-serving in that motivation, but Alex's want to protect Martin is selfish in it's own right as well - wanting to keep that one friend around, wanting to satisfy himself by being able to care for someone else. It doesn't really matter. The point is he cares enough, one way or another, to let the street urchin and the ex-con stripper wake him up at gross hours of the night when he's got work the next morning, and cuddle up next to him like children afraid of nightmares. After all, how old are the two of them? 23 and 20? They can barely be called more than that.

Erik wraps strong arms around Martin's trembling form and pulls him to his chest and Alex seeks out one of his hands, cold and clammy, and threads their fingers together, offering a small squeeze to let him know the both of them are there - he's safe and he's watched over and he'll be alright, and even if it’s not Better tomorrow, it’ll at least be alright. Alex will claim he doesn’t need the same reassurance, but when one of his arms moves to wrap around him and card through the short strands of his hair, he lets out a breath and tension goes with it. Alex doesn’t usually have a person to lean on and he’s not good at accepting it when he does, but Erik’s presence is an overwhelming kind of sturdiness that makes it easy, for the both of them. There’s no accepting needed - he’s simply there. Martin and Alex’s lives consist of uncertainty built upon uncertainty - Martin depending on horny men wandering down to his corner of the street or park to know if he’ll be shaking, cold and hungry the next day or not and Alex hoping the club will get enough traffic he can afford bills and rent. Alex lets another long exhale leave him and slowly, slowly, lets his head relax against the older man’s chest - the metered rise and fall of his chest a reassuring, steady sort of rhythm, and the familiar scent of him teamed with the warm skin beneath the hand on his side are inviting.

As the blond lets his eyes slide shut, melting against Erik’s chest, the whirling of the fan, the soft, hitched breathing of Martin calming down and Erik’s heartbeat under his ear combine in calming sort of atmosphere, lulling Alex back towards sleepiness. If he’s honest with himself, this is the closet he's felt to family in his entire life. How sad is that? A couple rentboys and the guy who made himself their sugar daddy. But it’s somewhere to go home to - a place with people he cares for and people who care about him. Isn’t that what home is supposed to be? Even as unclear as Erik’s motives are with how stoic and closed off he can be, the goal of their well-being is obvious enough, so really, what more does it matter? When morning comes, Erik will likely be first up and the two of them will rouse sometime later to breakfast in the kitchen and some medicine set out for Martin to help with the shakes. He’ll be off to work, but the remaining evidence of his attention to them lingers in coffee ready and warm in the pot and some cash set under a ring of keys on the table. Alex still isn’t certain with how comfortable he is with the situation and being taken care of, but it follows the same vein - it is what it is, and for whatever reason, the three of them are there, coexisting in a symbiotic sort of style. He’s still not sure what Erik really gets from it, but Erik doesn’t ask them, so he doesn’t see the need to go poking for it. It is what it is, and for so long as it works... it’s home.