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Frank is so tired, he has to take a steadying breath before he gets the key in the lock. There is a reason he usually takes the bus home, but today he wanted to walk because the meeting was such a drag. But now he's bone tired and weary and the joints in his legs are burning.
He shuts the door gently and takes his shoes off just as carefully, because the ground floor of the house is dark and quiet. Had anyone asked him to place a bet on what he'd find coming home, he would have guessed Robby and Jack would be watching TV in the living room.
But the lights are off, there is no flickering, no quiet chatter. Maybe they went to bed already, maybe they were just as tired as he is.
Suddenly, he hears a light snore in the darkness.
That explains a lot. He tiptoes across the hardwood floor in just his socks and rounds the corner to get a peek at the couch.
They're both asleep, comfortably cuddling. Robby has one arm around Jack's back to keep him from falling off the couch. Jack's leg is entangled between Robby's, like he's anchoring himself. They look gorgeous like this. Frank grabs a blanket from the lounge chair and slowly unfolds it.
As quietly and carefully as he can, he drapes it over them. If they want to sleep down here tonight, he's not going to stop them. The couch is wide enough and has a good mattress.
They've all fallen asleep on it at one point or another, too tired to make it upstairs, alone, waiting up for someone, worried, watching the news, one alone, two together, too satisfied to move another inch; happy, sad, sick, tired. This couch has seen them at their highest and lowest. It looks like tonight, it was just opportunity and wine and lazy cuddles that kept them here.
Satisfied that he didn't wake them, Frank climbs the stairs, mindful of the two creaky steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Upstairs, he shuts the door to the bathroom gingerly, so neither light nor sound reach his two lovers downstairs. He even brushes his teeth with the normal toothbrush so he doesn't wake them with the humming of the electric one.
He sneaks into their bed in the bedroom and lays down. Absolute exhaustion drags him under pretty fast. He sets his alarm, puts the phone on the nightstand, but once his head hits the pillow, it feels like gravity is pulling on him and everything gets fuzzy.
He becomes aware of noise next, of movement around him. There are the familiar sounds of clothing being changed. The sheets are being pulled back further. Bits of sentences reach him, too. Endearments and a running commentary asking whether he's really asleep and saying that he could have woken them.
Then the mattress dips and Robby slides into bed in front of him. The bed dips again and Jack follows on his other side. He's being jostled, a warm hand strokes over his back, a second one joins it. He gets a soft, "Go back to sleep," and a kiss to his head as he's already drifting off again; he barely woke up in the first place.