Work Text:
It’s too late for this shit.
That’s the only thought that fills Martin’s head as he trudges across the wood panel floor to the door, the sound of rain overhe echoing through his walls. It was pitch black outside, and the knocking doesn’t slow down.
“For fuck’s sake,” he huffs, yanking his slippers on and thumping down the stairs. He can barely see two feet in front of him, his fists clenched so tightly that nails dig into skin to keep him from falling asleep on his feet.
“Coming! I’m coming.” He calls, heads the knocks die down. It couldn’t have been a minute since they’d started, but he suddenly felt far more uneasy.
He unbolts the door, can hear a new bout of thunder as he pulls it open.
And then, all at once, his heart stops.
Aaron is.. he looks like shit. Wet hair falling over his face, eyes wide and red and raw. Tears mix with raindrops on his cheeks, stained and rosy. His hands are pale, shaking.
“..Holy- oh my god.” Martin’s voice is breathless as he rushes to his goalie and pulls him inside, can feel the cold practically radiating off of him.
“Aaron-“
“‘m sorry. ‘m sorry, I- fucked up, didn’t mean to, didn’t- didn’t want to, I didn’t-“
His teeth are chattering as he speaks, words barely intelligible. Martin sits him on the couch, peeling his soaking wet coat off his body and wrapping an insulated blanket over his shoulders.
“Aar, what’s- what happened??” He says, still somewhat in shock. The keeper doesn’t respond, just sobs.
Martin rushes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on, knows Aaron’s slight obsession with yorkshire tea is the most promising possibility of getting him calmed right now.
“Aaron-“
“‘m sorry. Didn’t- didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to-“
“Didn’t mean to what? What— what are you talking about?”
Martin crouches down in front of him, takes the taller man’s face in his hands. “Talk to me, baby. Please.”
“Jamie. H-he showed up, he-“
Martin can’t feel his hands.
“..Your- ex? Why?”
“He- he kissed me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“
“Aaron. Aaron- don’t.. did you want it?”
“No! No, no-“
“Then don’t apologize. I’m not mad at you.”
“He just- he just.. showed up a-and started- trying to touch me and- and I pushed him off and he started shouting at me that nobody wanted me. That the club d-didn’t want me, team didn’t want me, you didn’t want me-“
“Aaron- Aaron, baby. Don’t- stop, don’t think. He’s wrong, he’s always been wrong. He doesn’t know shit- not about you or me or anyone.”
“Nobody wants me. Nobody-“
“Don’t say that. I want you- I need you.”
Martin clambers onto the couch, pulling Aaron’s head onto his lap and pressing his lips to his hair. “Don’t- don’t cry, please don’t cry.”
“Mikel hates me. The fans hate me. David hates me-“
“Bullshit. Aaron- I.. I don’t know what Mikel’s trying to do. I disagree with it wholeheartedly- but he cares about you, I promise you that. The fans love you- the team love you. I love you.”
The words go in one ear and out the other. Rationality doesnt matter, facts don’t matter. Aaron’s a wreck. That’s all he can feel, all he knows.
“Fuck. You- Aar, hey. Hey. It’s me, yeah? Martin- I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. Jamie is wrong, he’s wrong.”
“No. No, he isn’t, he isn’t. David’s my fucking replacement. They don’t want me. They don’t.”
“I- Aaron. I need you to tell me what Jamie did.”
Aaron buried his face in Martin’s thigh in response, his still soaked hair drenching the Norweigan’s clothes. He didn’t care.
“He- he just- he was there. When I g-got home from training a-and- and I told him to leave. He called me a whore, s-said I let everyone at th-the team climb all over me and- and then he pushed me against the wall a-and kissed me. I let him- I let him, I let him-“
“Aaron— don’t say that. You didn’t, you- I know you didn’t.”
“I didn’t stop him. I didn’t even try-“
“Aaron. Stop- don’t.”
The keeper grips Martin’s hand in his own, desperately trying to force the tears to stop. He can’t.
“Aaron. I.. fuck. I’m so sorry.”
He means it. The keeper had been off in training- he was his captain just as much as his partner. He should have noticed, should have done more. Should have brought him back to his place, never should have let him go home alone.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, threads a hand in his damp blond curls. “God. I’m so sorry.”
“They don’t want me.” He chokes out once more, voice broken. It shatters Martin’s heart all over again.
“Aaron.. Fuck. The- the team— we need you. They need you, I need you.”
“I want them to want me. I want- why don’t they want me?”
“Nobody else matters- I want you. I want you, Aar, fuck what anyone else thinks.”
“Fuck. Fuck.”
“Aar. Please don’t cry- please. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“I don’t wanna leave but I- I don’t know how to stay. I don’t think I can.”
“Don’t think like that. Don’t think about that. We- we’ll.. deal with it later. Right now, you’re okay. You are okay. I promise.”
“Please don’t leave me.”
Martin buried his fingers in Aaron’s locks, sighing. “I- I won’t. I won’t, I’m not going anywhere.”
Aaron sniffles, his eyes drifting aimlessly. “I’m making you tea,” Martin whispers. “Yorkshire. Your favorite.”
Aaron smiles, eyes fluttering shut. “Know me so well.”
“I.. yeah. Yeah. You tired?”
Aaron nods, eyes no longer fighting to stay open. Martin uses a blanket from the coffee table to dry his hair, slowly peeling his soaked-through shirt from his chest. Aaron shudders before Martin gets his blanket back around him, tight like a burrito. “You’re safe,” he rasps, fighting back his own tears. “Okay? I promise.”
Aaron grins, sighs, and drifts off in seconds.
———
“Morning.”
Aaron hums, feels warmth spreading through his fingertips. “..Huh?”
“I lied, it’s two in the morning. Do you feel any better?”
“..Ma.. what?”
The keeper pries his eyes open, confusing filling his face. “..Where- why-“
“..Do— do you not remember?”
Aaron sits up, wincing as his head throbs in pain. “Remember- remember what?”
“You came to my house. Six hours ago, you were drenched? Said Jamie came over.”
Aaron freezes, realization washing over him. “..Shit. I-“ he blurts out, trying to scramble to his feet.
“Hey- hey, no-“ Martin mutters, pushing Aaron back down. “Hey- calm down, yeah?” He sighs, grabbing something off the table beside him and pressing it into Aaron’s hands, cupping his own overtop. “See? Yorkshire. Your favorite. Made it for you, remember.”
“No- no, I- I don’t. I don’t remember, why don’t I-“
Aaron shudders as the same warmth he felt when he’d woken spreads through his body, slightly numbing the pain in his head.
“Did you have anything to drink last night?”
Aaron shakes his head, staring down at the mug in his hands, Martin’s hands cupping his own. “..Fuck. Why- why don’t I remember? He- what did- what happened?”
“Aaron- you need to calm down. You’re breathing really fast.”
“Tell me what happened, Mar- what did I say? I-“
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Aaron screws his eyes shut. “I don’t know, I don’t know I-“
“Aaron,” Martin whispers, gently taking one of his hands and rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, “please. I’m right here.”
“I- I was.. at home. Crying. Played like- like shit in training and- and I was upset because David’s.. he’s doing better. He is better, he-“
“What happened next?” Martin gently prods, trying to keep Aaron from spiraling once more.
“I.. There was a- a knock at- the door.”
“Okay. And who was it?”
Aaron screws his eyes shut, clenching his hands tight around the mug. “I- I don’t know. I.. I can’t- why can’t I remember?”
“Aaron- you can. Who was it?”
“I don’t- I don’t know! I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t know, I-“
“Yes you do. You-“
“..Jamie- Jamie, it was- why? Why was- why doesn’t he leave me alone? Why won’t he leave me alone?”
Aaron crumples forwards, mug hitting the floor and shattering as his arms wrap around his knees and pull them to his chest.
“He knew. He knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Nobody- nobody wants me,” he croaks as Martin unclasps the keeper’s hands and settles in front of him, eyes almost pleading. “Aaron. I want you. Do you understand that? I’ll say it as many times as you need before you do.”
Aaron winces. “Fuck. I- why- how’d I get here?”
“Don’t know. Think you walked, you were.. drenched.”
Aaron sniffles. “‘m sorry about- about your mug,” he squeaks. Martin just smiles, presses his lips to Aaron’s forehead.
“Don’t apologize. Aaron, I- I’m glad you came to me, yeah? I’m really- I’m really proud of you for that.”
“Does it count if I was barely in control of myself?”
“Yes.” Martin breathes out, “yes, it counts.”
Martin isn’t lying. Aaron’s had these.. meltdowns before, had often spent them in his backyard or a closet at London Colney. But this time- this time he’d come to him. He’d felt safe enough, no matter his mental state, to go to Martin.
It was part of the reason Martin had moved where he’d moved. Had gotten a house just ten minutes walk from Aaron’s, just in case.
The goalie is still shaking, but far less so. Martin smiled weakly at him, holds his hands in his own.
“Aaron. I.. I know this is hard right now, and I know the effect Jamie can have on you. But this is not your fault, and nothing he said is true. I want you. The team- the team need you.”
Aaron nods. “O.. okay. Okay.”
“Do you want to go shower? Hot shower could make you feel better.”
Aaron sniffles, nods against the fabric of Martin’s shirt. “Yeah,” he croaks, “I’d like that.”
It’s.. jarring, to say the least. Aaron, upbeat, bubbly, always-laughing Aaron, breaking down in his arms. It was terrifying.
“Aaron. Mikel.. I’ll talk to him, okay?”
“Won’t change nothin’. Doesn’t want me.”
“Aar..”
“Can- can we just- can-“
“Yeah. You want me to come with you?”
Aaron nods, wipes the tears from his eyes. “Love you,” he whispers. Martin smiles, kisses him again.
“Love you, too. Don’t ever forget that.”
———
“Mar?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I.. I don’t know- nevermind.”
Martin glances up at him, the dark bags under his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I.. I don’t know. I just- fuck. The- Jamie thing, I.. I’m sorry.”
“..What? What- why?”
“I- It’s.. does that count as cheating? ‘cause-“
“Oh my god- no, Aar! He kissed you without your consent, how- no. No, it’s not cheating, of course not.”
Aaron sniffles, presses his head into the crook of Martin’s neck, bending his knees slightly. Water is cascading down his broad shoulders, and he’s never hated his size so much.
It helped him do is job, sure. But in bed, in domestic situations— he felt like an idiot. He felt.. weird, awkward. He wishes he could shrink, could be so small as to fit in the palm of his captain’s hand and be carried around in his pocket. He’d like that. He’d really like that.
“Dunno how you put up with me. Glad you do,”
“I don’t ’put up with you,’ Aar. I love you. I want to be around you, be with you.”
Aaron slumped down on the shower seat, head hanging limp. “..I love you. I love you, I love you-“
“Aar.”
“..Y-yeah?”
“I know. And I love you, too- so, so damn much. Okay? And nothing anyone else says or thinks will ever change that.”
His hand is running up and down Aaron’s back, water still drenching his hair but so, so different to when he’d stumbled in Martin’s door hours before. It felt good, Martin’s hand on his face, on his back. Cradling him, holding him.
He’d always wanted this- to be held, cared for. Had always been the one doing that for others, his size and stature making that the default. But- but this was good. This felt.. good. Better.
“Aaron. Baby. Can you look at me? Wanna see those pretty eyes.”
And Aaron obliges, lifts his chin just enough so that Martin can grip it and plant a kiss to his lips, just enough so he can hold his face as he would a toddler or a pet and just.. stare at him.
“I’m.. I’m so proud of you, you know that? So proud. You’ve come so far.”
Aaron smiles- he can’t not. The praise works its way into his brain, infecting his mind.
“You’re amazing. Amazing.”
Aaron wants to run away.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he lets Martin hold him as he comes undone again.