Work Text:
Frenchie never meant to *actually* move in.
He'd heard about Zheng's Going Away Party from Roach, who'd been invited by Olu. She was going away on a 6 week assignment to Edinburgh, overseeing the final stages of construction and hiring for the newest Bon-Teach hotel. So, why not throw a rager of a send off? Their Fitzrovia apartment was bursting at the seams with people by the time he dropped in.
The crowd was a fair slice of London society- sleek young business people mingling with Neo Bohemian artists while pro-bono social warriors had deep conversations with football hooligans. Music was thumping and booze was flowing, food was varied and plentiful. All in all, the best kind of shindig.
Things had been rough for him lately, getting priced out of his last flat by the management and having to couch surf *again*. And work was a drag. Expecting him to come in every day? On time? Ridiculous. So it wasn't surprising when he woke up the morning after tucked up in Archie's bed, its owner nowhere to be found.
Feeling generous, he'd stumbled into the kitchen and started clearing away the mess on the counters, looking for something to eat. There were still slices of Madeira cake on Jim's Nana's cake stand, which he munched on as he tidied. Oluwande shuffled in, big orange bathrobe cinched tight, eyes bleary. He went straight for the coffee pot, pulling out the portafilter and crinkling his nose at the state of it.
“Can you rinse this for me?” He asked over his shoulder as he shuffled to dump the old grounds in the bin. Frenchie held out his hand, taking the offending item and running it under the tap. Olu smiled at him. “Ta.”
The pair moved around each other in comfortable silence- Frenchie cleaning, Oluwande making first coffee, then toast and eggs. He was plating everything up when Jim and Archie wandered in. Jim was dressed for the day in baggy jeans and a tight black t-shirt, messenger bag slung across their flat chest. Archie, on the other hand, was barely covered by a long grey towel wrapped around her torso. Both of them kissed Olu when they took their plates- Archie kissing his cheek, Jim opting for a forehead smooch. He smiled fondly as he carried the last two plates to the open seats at the table.
“Come sit!”
Frenchie slid into what must be Zheng's seat, waffling between confused, uncomfortable, and grateful. He waited until everyone else was eating to tuck in himself. The first bite made him look up at Oluwande. His eggs were almost as good as Roach's. Light and fluffy and well seasoned. Everyone else seemed to take the quality of their breakfast for granted, talking about their plans for the day.
Jim had class from 10 to 5, Oluwande had meetings until 4, and Archie didn't have anywhere to be until her Judo class at 8.
“You staying for dinner? I'm making Bolognese,” Archie asked, pulling Frenchie into the conversation.
“Huh? Oh! No, I have work in…shit! Half an hour!” He hopped up, swiping his last piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth. “Thanks for this,” he mumbled as he dropped his plate in the sink.
“Don't worry about how late you get off, I'll put a plate in the oven for you!”
—---------------
Curiosity brought him back after his shift(and a stop off at Pete and Luci's to shower and change). Worse comes to worst, he'd look foolish and get a kebab on his way back.
The door was unlocked, so he let himself in, slipping off his shoes out of habit. Voices drifted down the narrow hallway, beckoning him towards the warmly lit kitchen. When he got to the doorway he paused, suddenly shy.
“You made it!” Archie hopped up, pulling him into a quick hug. “Take a seat, you want a drink? Beer, vino, Coke?” She retrieved a plate piled high with tagliatelle in a thick tomato sauce from their tiny oven. She set it in front of him while Jim grabbed two more beers from the fridge.
“Drink up,” they told him, clinking their bottles together.
So he did.
It was nice, having a meal that wasn't staff slop, or cup noodles or a chippy. Archie may not have been the best cook, but the food was hearty and plentiful. They kept his plate full, though Olu swapped his empty beer bottle for a glass of water. He also encouraged Frenchie to talk, asking questions about his day and sharing tidbits about his own. Jim contributed the odd story or two, while Archie wolfed down three plates full of pasta, plus bread.
She left quickly after dinner, kissing Jim and Oluwande, and ruffling Frenchie's hair. Jim cleared the table, then retreated to their room to study. Olu started the washing up, leaving Frenchie sat at the table.
“You want a hand?”
Olu shrugged. “Nah, you cleaned up this morning.” He smiled fondly. “Don't mind the company, though.”
—---------------
The kitchen didn't take too long to tidy. The pair migrated to the living room, putting on Bake Off and curling up in companionable silence. Around 10pm Olu excused himself to bed, asking Frenchie to make sure the hall light was on for Archie. He was too confused to do anything but agree.
Around midnight Archie stumbled in. She flopped down on the sofa, Judo bag discarded on the floor.
“You didn't have to wait up!” She laid her head in his lap. “Nice to come home to someone, though.” Before he could shift away, she was back on her feet. “Gonna hit the head, then hit the hay. You coming to mine tonight, or?”
“Nah, I should probably head out.”
Archie snorted. “Nonsense! If you wanna sleep alone, take Zheng's bed! She won't mind.” She slapped hIm on the back. “Night Frenchie!”
—---------------
It all just snowballed from there.
His stuff migrated from Lucius and Pete's place to Zheng's room. His name joined the cleaning/cooking rota. He became Oluwande's new shopping buddy.
There were group dates to his weekly gigs. In return, he went to Jim's debate club and Archie's Judo exhibitions.
He found himself pulled into couch cuddles and movie night puppy piles. Getting the same casual kisses and shoulder punches when coming or going.
The others shared rooms or not as the mood took them, but never pressed him to join.
It was the best flatshare he had ever been a part of, and he felt a little guilty about it.
But, surely, they had to realize he wasn't part of their polycule, didn’t they? That he wasn’t sleeping with any of them? He was very careful to not do anything that might give the impression that he was down for that kind of thing. No long hugs or mouth kisses and only the mildest of flirtatious banter.
So, okay, he *did* share blankets with Olu on the couch during TV time, and he *did* give Archie massages after Judo, and he *had* taken over maintaining Jim's undercut…fuck, had he joined a polycule? He was a fraud! A freeloading asexual fraud.
He had to come clean and apologize.
And find a new place to stay.
Shit.
—---------------
“I’m here under false pretenses!”
Three pairs of eyes focused on him over the lentil cottage pie he had made for dinner. This had not been The Plan. The Plan had been to make a lovely dinner, get out the Battenburg he’d picked up on his way back from work, and then admit to his crimes. But sitting here, in what had become his seat at their table, listening to them banter so fondly had frayed his self-control to the breaking point.
“What, did you skip work or something? Shit, was Lu’s Poetry Slam tonight? Did we miss it?” Archie asked around a forkful of mash.
Frenchie cradled his face in his hands. “No…I’m mucking this all up. I meant to say something over cake, not in the middle of dinner…”
“Hey, take a deep breath, okay?” He could feel Oluwande stroking his back, and it just made him feel worse. His shoulders curled in tighter to his chest. “Take all the time you need, mate, we’re here for you.”
“That’s just it!” Frenchie sniffled. “You’re here for me, but I’m not here for you! Not like you’re here for each other! I’m a fraud, a charlatan!”
“Is this about the laundry? Because we already told you, no one has to fold anyone’s clothes but their own,” Jim reassured him.
He shook his head, curls bouncing and swaying around his forlorn expression. “It’s not the laundry, it’s…fuck, I *rehearsed* this, why I can’t I just *say* it?”
“Oh! Is it because you don’t want to fuck us? Nobody cares about that, Mate.” Frenchie stared at Archie, who shrugged. “Hear you talking to yourself in the bathroom this morning,” she explained.
Olu nodded. “We know you’re ace, it doesn’t make you any less a part of this than anyone else.”
Jim made an affirmative noise. “You're here for us plenty. Do you care about us?”
Frenchie frowned. “Of course I care! You guys are the best!”
They smirked. “Do you *want* to be a part of this polycule?”
“Yes, but…you’re all really okay with this?” This was not the reaction he’d been expecting. Anger? Disappointment? Scorn? Those he could have handled. Their gentle acceptance had tears sliding down his cheeks. All three swarmed out of their seats to hug him.
“You’ve been a great addition to our little family,” Oluwande assured him.
“You’re nice to come home to,” Jim added.
Archie pinched his cheek. “You’re one of us for as long as you want to be, Silly. Just the way you are. Zheng thinks so, too.”
Well, that was a shock. “You talked about this with Zheng?”
“Of course we did. Just because she’s away doesn’t mean she doesn’t get a say in things!” Archie scoffed.
Jim chuckled. “She says you can keep the room, just help move her stuff into Olu’s before she comes down for the long weekend in September.”
His face crumpled again. “Guys…” He couldn’t help but laugh through his tears as his family hugged him tighter.