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Alex appreciated the hell out of his boyfriends. He loved them both with everything he had. It was hard not to.
With Nick's soft, sleepy smiles late at night, the way his whole expression brightened when he saw Alex, and how it felt to be wrapped in his arms. They were his safe space. His place to take a step out of reality, wander around in his brain a bit with the safety tether of his solid chest and steady heartbeat. Inside Nick's embrace was his favorite spot to be.
And Karl. Feather light kisses to his jawbone to wake him in the morning, it was hard not to love that. Or the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. How the force of his laughter was so strong he couldn't sit still. He cherished every second those loud, breathy giggles flooded his ears. Drowned out every bad thought he ever had. It quickly became his favorite sound.
But the bad thing about being in a relationship like theirs? Nick and Karl were boyfriends too. They started dating each other before adding Alex. They went through personal crises together before him. They probably would after him, too. They had a history. They had inside jokes and private smiles and a whole language that only they could understand.
And then there was Alex.
Alex with his broken family. With his too sharp broken heart and silvered tongue and claws so brutal he could rip them apart. Sometimes, he couldn't help but worry if he was hurting them. He wondered if the jagged edges of his heart were too sharp. If he held their hearts between his teeth, not cradled in his hands. Wondered if they loved him like he loved them. Wondered how the two of them, as perfect and pure and whole as they were, ever chose a wreck like him.
Alex didn't realize he'd zoned out until he felt the calloused warmth of Nick's fingertips on his jaw. "Alex?" He asked softly, moving his hand to cradle Alex's cheek and wipe the tears out of his eyes. "Baby, talk to me," he pleaded softly.
"I'm okay," Alex assured him, willing himself to quit crying. Nick didn't seem to buy it, midnight blue eyes clouded with concern and love so thickly Alex felt like he was choking. "Really, babe. I am," he assured, resting his hand over Nick's.
The look didn't leave his face. "Okay. I'll give you space," he relented in a whisper. His tone was too gentle. Too concerned. "But I'm always here to listen," he promised, kissing Alex's forehead.
Behind him, Karl shifted so he could rest his chin on Nick's head, pressing a kiss to the crown of his hair. Then he wrapped an arm around Alex's waist, gently tugging him backwards. Alex settled against Karl's chest, feeling the older boy's heartbeat against his shoulder blade. Nick settled beside them, pressing his face into the curve of Karl's neck. Alex could feel his warm breath ghosting the nape of his neck. Then Nick wrapped his arm loosely over Alex's chest, idly tracing patterns on his bicep over his hoodie sleeve.
"We got ya, sweetheart," Karl assured him, voice soft and full of the same concerned affection.
As Karl's fingers brushed against his right hip bone and Nick's brushed his right bicep, Alex let his thoughts wander again.
There wasn't a single thing Alex liked about himself. He was boisterous. Never took anything seriously. Joked too much about the wrong things at the wrong time. Never looked the best.
Most days, his beanie hid the atrocious state of his hair- somewhere between wavy and straight, greasy from the lack of washing it for two days now. There were bags under his eyes; Alex knew he wasn't sleeping enough, but sleep was hard to come by lately. He'd close his eyes and all his insecurities and worst fears bubbled to the surface. Even worse, he had his Dad's eyes. He looked so much like his dad. The mental reminder made him itch to tear his skin off.
And the scar. When he was 15, he and his mom were in an accident. One moment, they were fine, listening to soft Mexican Jazz and driving down the road, talking about their new home. The next, Alex woke up half blind and confused as all hell in an emergency room. They'd saved most of his vision, but his left eye was pretty fucked still. He could see shapes and colors from the left, but needed contacts to fill in the details. And his left pupil was still clouded in a little stripe down the center. People pitied him because of it. He wished more than anything he could just rip his eyes out.
He wouldn't have to see the ugly thing he called his body. Too short, too stumpy, too fat. He'd picked and prodded at every little flaw so much the list came easily to him. His jawline and stomach were too pudgy;limbs just slightly too long and hands and feet just slightly too big. His nose had a subtle hook to the left from his last ex and his left cheekbone never set properly, raised slightly more than it should have been under the outer corner of his eye.
He wasn't thin and pretty and graceful like Karl; He lacked the brawn and power and handsome strength Nick had. He didn't have soft, beautiful smiles like Karl did. His were too showy, too obnoxious. He wasn't soft spoken like Nick. His voice was brash and hard on everyone's ears. He didn't compare to them. They were too good for him.
He was just here to pass the time, to entertain them until they got bored. Until they realized how much better off they were without him and all his skeletons. Until they realized they never needed him to be happy; all he did was hold them back and drag them down like a cinder brick chained to their ankles.
Again, it was Nick's calloused fingers that brought him back. They were rough from years of playing football and skateboarding and playing violin. Alex pressed against his hand where it now cupped his jaw like he was made of glass. Nick held his face like he was something to be cherished, but Alex wasn't.
He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve either of them. He didn't deserve to be held like he was delicate; hell, he was already broken.
"Hey," a soft, calm voice pulled him back from yet another spiral of self hatred. "Alex, are you with us?" It was Nick. He hated the concern and fear in his tone, hated the bitter aftertaste it left in the back of his throat.
They were concerned about him. Karl and Nick were upset and concerned and it was all Alex's fault. The thought made his stomach knot up and an embarrassed color rose to his cheeks. Made him wiggle out of their grasp and bolt out of Karl' living room. He fumbled with the bathroom knob, then closed the door behind him harder than he meant to.
Their concern had grown hands and teeth and claws and it was choking him. Settling too heavily on his sternum while razors of guilt sliced his throat from the inside out. Oh fuck they're worried because I can't get a grip, he realized dimly, sliding down the door and trying to pry the hands off his throat. His stomach revolted with the motion and Alex moved quickly to the toilet.
Alex hadn't realized they followed him until he felt softer, bonier hands pull off his beanie and card through his disgusting hair. Stronger, more solid hands rubbed between his shoulder blades as he gripped the edge of the toilet with white knuckles. Bile burned the back of his throat and he gagged, shaking like a sapling in a windstorm.
"Shh, Alex, you're okay," Nick murmured soothingly, hand still moving in slow circles on his shoulder blades.
"Honey, you're alright," Karl soothed. "Breathe for us, okay, angel?" He asked softly, taking one of Alex's hands off the edge of the toilet and placing it flat against his chest. Karl started to exaggerate his breathing and Alex did everything in his power to copy Karl.
To get a grip. To calm the fuck down, because there wasn't even a reason to panic. Oh wait yes there was and the reasons were on the bathroom floor with him, one holding his right palm to their chest and the other one murmuring praises and assurance in his ear.
The reminder made his stomach twist painfully again and he dry heaved a few times, and then puked until nothing came up again. (Not that there was much to puke up to begin with. Alex hadn't eaten yet that day, and honestly? Now he didn't think he was going to. If he didn't immediately crash after this attack, he'd be surprised.)
The whole time, they never took their hands off him. Continued to murmur praises and assurances until the words lost all meaning to him. Karl's fingers kept carding through his hair, now damp with sweat even though chills wracked his entire body. Nick waited until Alex lifted his head off the cool porcelain to pull Alex into his chest.
They were rising, and Alex screwed his eyes shut to avoid the vertigo. He didn't open them until he felt something soft but solid under his legs. Karl sat in front of him, bleeding concern as he pressed the back of his palm to Alex's forehead, then to each cheek in turn. "He's not feverish, Nick. He's just really pale." Karl explained, looking over to Nick, who was unfolding the blanket he'd brought to Karl's house last night.
"I know." Nick replied calmly. "He's having a panic attack. He'll be alright, we just need to baby him," he elaborated, draping the blanket around Alex's shoulders. "Do you want to get him water or stay here with him?" Nick asked softly.
"I'll stay," Karl replied, replacing the bunches of fabric in Alex's hands with his own. "Honey, can you do something for me?" He asked sweetly.
Alex shakily nodded. "Yeah," he whispered, kicking himself for the voice crack. The door clicked softly as Nick shut it behind him.
Karl gently turned his chin with a finger. "Hey, Nick will be right back, alright? In the meantime, tell me five objects you can see in here," he requested calmly.
"The tv," Alex began in a shaky stutter. "Your blanket. Nick's duffel bag. My beanie. All of your posters," he listed.
Karl kissed his hand. "Perfect. Four things you can hear?" He asked next.
Oh. Oh. Karl was trying to ground him. Alex nodded, then looked around. "The tv, your computer," he paused to draw in a sharp breath. Nick's phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen lighting up to show his background and a text notification from Dream. "Nicky's phone. You," he finished.
"Wonderful," Karl replied. "Three things you can touch?"
"You, the blanket, the bed," Alex listed off. The technique was working.
Nick walked back in, closing the door behind him softly. He sat on the other side of Alex, holding the water for him. His hands hadn't stopped shaking enough for him to grab it yet.
"Honey, focus for me, alright?" Karl asked, and Alex looked away from Nick's hand around the glass and back to Karl's soft grey eyes. "Two things you can smell, alright, honey?"
Alex nodded. "Nick's blanket and your sweatshirt." He whispered.
Karl smiled encouragingly at him. "You're doing amazing for me, angel," Karl assured him. "One thing you can taste?" He commanded gently.
The water. Alex gently took it and raised the cup to his mouth, taking a few tiny sips. "Water," he replied.
"Okay. Now what would be best for us to do?" Nick asked softly.
Alex set the water down on the table beside him. "Could you maybe-" he cut himself off with a shake of his head, but Nick seemingly understood what he couldn't force himself to say. In an instant he was smushed against Nick's side, legs draped over the other's lap. Nick held him in a tight embrace, but Alex knew Nick would let him go if he asked.
"Can you tell us what got you worked up?" Karl asked softly, moving closer to place a concerned kiss to the crown of Alex's head.
It spilled out of him. All the anxieties that had built up. Every terrible voice that plagued his thoughts and haunted his dreams. Every awful thing his exes ever said, along with the horrible things his own brain told him, tumbled from his lips like brackish, poisoned water. By the end of his tearful vent, Nick and Karl had started crying too.
Seconds passed. The room was so still Alex could hear his own heart hammering violently in his chest. The silence was so terrifyingly loud. Alex waited with silent breaths for one of them- both of them, even, to say something.
Quiet was violent. Quiet is what brought the self hatred out.
Karl had been the first to speak up. "Baby, no," he whispered, horrified and concerned. His thumb brushed tenderly across the curve of Alex's right cheekbone. "We don't love you any less," he explained. "We love you so fucking much, Alexis. I love you so much." He whispered. "I didn't realize you needed to hear it. I thought feeling it was enough. Honey, I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"I'm sorry for making you feel so guilty, Karl," Alex whispered, guilt slicing his insides to ribbons.
"No!" Karl protested. "No," he repeated softer. "Alex, you told us from the get go that you needed reassurance and we let you down. We fucked up, not you," he explained. "But I swear I won't make this mistake again. I love you," Karl kissed his forehead. "You're so beautiful," one kiss to each eyelid. "You're loud," a kiss to his nose. "Bubbly," to his left cheek. "Hilarious." A kiss to his left. "The most wonderful, amazing person I'd ever had the pleasure to call mine," he whispered, then kissed Alex sweetly on the lips. "And I wouldn't trade you for the world," he whispered when they pulled apart.
Nick pressed a trail of kisses down his cheek, tilting Alex's chin towards him with a finger. "I love you so much." He whispered, kissing him softly too. They parted, and Nick continued. "You are one of the bravest people I know, Alex. I've never met anyone who's gone through half the shit you have and come out on the other side better. Except you." Nick hugged him tighter. "You're strong. So strong." He praised. "Maybe not physically, but I couldn't deal with a fraction of what life threw at you. You're a fighter." Nick rested his hand over Alex's heart. "This beat proves that. But baby, you don't have to fight alone. That's why we're here."
"We're here so you don't have to fight alone, Alex," Karl murmured softly. "We're in your corner, honey. And we aren't leaving you anytime soon."
Alex wiped his tears away. "Thank you. And I'm sorry I let this fester." He murmured. "I was just so afraid to tell you guys. Thought you would freak out."
"Well, you're off the hook for that, now," Nick chuckled. "Next time, please let us in." He murmured seriously, sliding down so they were now laying how they'd been sitting. Alex adjusted himself so he was more comfortable, then he felt Karl press against his back and kiss the tops of his shoulders.
"Take a nap, angel," Karl whispered. "When you wake up, I'll make food while you and Nick shower. Okay? And don't protest, you need a shower," he replied. "Not in a mean way, of course. You just need a little help. And here it is." He pressed another soft kiss to Alex's shoulder.
Alex closed his eyes and tucked his head under Nick’s chin. He allowed himself to really feel the love they were giving him. Allowed the brush of Karl’s hair across his neck to remind him that they chose him, for better and for worse. Allowed the gentle presses of Karl’s lips to his shoulders and neck to make him blush.
Allowed Nick’s calloused hands to wander idly across his lower back and tangle in his hair. Allowed the motions of Nick’s rising chest to lull him to his safe spot. Allowed the soft, steady beat in Nick’s rib cage to carry him off to that peaceful place between wakefulness and sleep.
Communication, Alex realized, was a two way street. Nick and Karl couldn’t fix an issue Alex refused to tell them about. They couldn’t tell him they loved him if he didn’t listen.
The idea terrified him. The idea of being so vulnerable felt so uncomfortable, until he remembered they’d been just as unguarded with him. Entirely willing to listen, and entirely willing to help. But Alex needed to be willing to listen too. He needed to realize that they’d been trying to tell him all along they loved him as much as he did them.