Based on the challenge prompt of 'Touch' by gumnut-Logic
Chapter Text
Touch is such a simple word, as can be the gestures themselves. It's something that most people don't even think about, it's something that is so often freely given and received, almost automatically added into gestures of affection and friendship that are now a part of everyday life. No one questions it, no one pays any attention when they see people hugging or kissing, it's just how it is, even if that touch is so often uninvited, unrequested and sometimes unwanted.
If someone tries to hug you and you flinch, you're the bad guy, you're the one in the wrong because you don't automatically allow someone to invade your personal space. Then you are thought of as cold, unfeeling, unemotional and unsociable. Does anyone bother asking you what you want or if you are OK with it? Not in his experience.
If you don't freely accept every touch that people choose to bestow upon you, because they deem it necessary even if you don't, it's you that is seen as being in the wrong. Never them. Touch can be positive, but it can so easily be negative.
It wasn't that he didn't like to be touched, he just had to feel comfortable enough with the people around him that were doing the touching. He hadn't always been that way, in highschool he was quiet but comfortable with his small circle of friends and his family, more than happy to receive pats on the back, a brotherly shoulder bump, a hug or to have someone snuggle up to him during family time.
He was sandwiched in the middle of four brothers, two older, two younger, all with very loud, boisterous personalities, his older brothers always there with a comforting hug or a consolitary arm slung around his shoulder on a bad day, or his younger brothers who'd happily throw themselves on him with little to no warning.
He'd grown up surrounded by people that were free with their affection and never thought twice about touching, and neither had he.
Losing their mother had changed everything for all of them, the youngest two got the most attention, something he'd never begrudged, they had needed it. Their father had withdrawn into himself, leaving Virgil and Scott to pick up the slack with the house and Alan, leaving him to pretty much fend for himself. He'd been extremely close to their mother and without her there to mediate, knowing when he'd had too much and needed some space or when he needed to be drawn back into the family circle, he'd been left to his own devices and that had meant that he'd locked himself away to grieve in peace.
Eventually, as a family they had grown stronger and they had attempted to integrate him back into the family unit but it had been too little too late. He'd withdrawn further and it had been noticed at school where he had grown used to either the pitying looks or the nasty sneered comments that were thrown his way. He was a loser, he was a loner, he was weird. His shy nature and now natural inclination to pull away from any physical contact was a beacon to those with a cruel streak as he'd found out to his cost.
University was supposed to be a game changer, the place where he could find himself and grew comfortable in his own skin but it had had the opposite effect. Long hours spent in solitary study, staying awake into the early hours of the morning to watch his stars, snatching a few hours sleep before attending lectures all day had played havoc with his social skills, poor as they had been before, and had given him an excuse to retire further into himself than he had before.
He'd gotten used to being alone, not having to worry about saying the wrong thing or having to act a certain way. He'd grown used to having his own space, to not having that social interaction, not having people constantly in his face and demanding attention. It was peaceful, quiet and freeing in a way he couldn't put his finger on but above all it was a relief to be able to think without constant demands on his time.
But with that had come the absence of people who actively sought him out, who would check in with him even if he felt like he didn't need them to. He made no effort to join any of the fraternities or clubs that the university had boasted, feeling he didn't have time for them, and so his friendship circles had grown even smaller. Strangers weren't as inclined to randomly grab him or touch him as his family had been and so it hadn't been unheard of for him to go days, sometimes weeks without having any form of physical contact with anyone for the first year of his studies.
His second and third years had been a little different, he'd promised Virgil that he'd try to broaden his horizons and spend more time with people that shared his interests and had actively put himself out there a little more. Going to parties, all of which he had hated and made excuses to slip out early, forming friendships, dating, some casual relationships when they had the time, but at heart he'd still been more comfortable alone.
After leaving university and devoting his life to International Rescue full time it hadn't been unheard of for him to spend more than a month alone in his craft with nothing but the odd call from home. He'd been so busy that he hadn't even realised that he'd barely spent any time with other humans in over a year.
Coming down to the Island for the first time in more than two months had been a challenge in itself. After the peaceful quiet of space, entering the lounge had been like walking into a wall of sound. A bubbling cauldron of light, noise, energetic siblings and fussing Grandma and it had been overwhelming to his senses. Alan had rushed at him, almost bowling him over in his exuberance and it had caught him off guard. He'd flinched at the sudden impact of a hard, round head connecting with his sternum and Alan had noticed, they had all noticed.
Alan had apologised and John had assured him that it was fine, he just needed a little warning next time, but next time had never come. He didn't know why, but after that no one had touched him unless he reached out first and he had to admit that he didn't do it often enough. He just didn't think about it, he wasn't used to including others in his daily life. He never reached out because usually he had no one to reach out too.
Sometimes they would forget this unspoken rule that they had implemented without his knowledge and would sling an arm around his shoulders or nudge him with an elbow but they always caught themselves, jerking away as if contact with him burnt and backing off without his say so. It made things awkward for him, like they didn't know how to act around him and in turn it made it so he didn't know how to be with them.
Everyone tiptoed around him, like he was a stray dog that had to be left alone in case they scared him off. Like if they came near him he'd run away.
His social anxiety would nag at him, telling him that he was making them uncomfortable, that he was in the way, even though he knew in his heart that it wasn't true. They loved him, he loved them, but it had become easier to stay away, for all of them to make excuses for his absence.
That was until she came into his life. She was his complete opposite, where he would wait to be invited into someone's personal space, she shoved her way in and set up camp. Where he was tentative and shy she was bold and confident.
She hadn't seen him as someone to be pitied or coddled, she hadn't seen him as someone who wanted to be left alone, she had just seen him as someone she wanted to be close to, so she would be no matter how long that took.
Initially he'd been on edge, his very rusty social skills, his extended periods of alone time, combined with his family's reluctance to get too close to him had left him with what amounted to a mental barrier between himself and reaching out to people. What if they rejected him like they thought he did with them? What if she was just being friendly and didn't actually want him that way at all? The thoughts running through his head had been loud and obnoxious, drowning out all rational thought, urging him to stay away and forget about her. And he'd listened to it, done as it bid. Until she had stepped in.
She'd been different, she'd respected his boundaries, been aware of his reactions but instead of backing away and waiting for him to ask, she'd offered herself first.
That had been the difference, she'd offered affection, she'd given him permission to reach out without words and had done it all without making it into a big deal. Because she'd never known him any other way. And that in itself had been refreshing.
He'd had to shift his perspective, had to learn to relax, to open up and accept someone into his heart. After years of being left alone here was someone that very much wanted him close and wanted to be close in return.
There had been a steep learning curve to letting someone as chaotic as her into his carefully controlled life but if anything her ability to never take things personally and to not give a single fuck had been a blessing. He'd quickly learnt that he could say absolutely anything and she would never think the worst of him, she had endless patience and for all her high maintenance ways, a calming energy he was drawn to.
She'd treated him like he was normal, not like he was made of glass that would break any second and he'd responded to it without thinking. She'd touched him unconsciously, a brush of her hand, an arm draped over his as she cuddled against his side watching a movie, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder and he'd done the same. He'd look down and find that his fingers were caressing the soft skin of her wrist, his fingers playing with hers, his hand landing on her knee as naturally as if he'd been doing it forever. And his brothers had watched, watched and smiled.
The shift had been subtle, so subtle he hadn't been sure at first, but she'd somehow managed to bridge the gap between him and his family that he hadn't even realised had widened that much.
When she sat next to him the others took it as permission to do the same. When she slid her arm around his waist it gave the others a chance to see that he was fine with it, meaning they followed her lead and draped a casual arm around his shoulders without worrying he'd flinch away.
His brothers had been shocked the first time they had seen her throw herself into his arms after a tough night but that had opened the door for Alan to do the same and John had hugged his baby brother tightly for the first time in years. He was taller, stronger and slightly smellier than he had been the last time it had happened, but he was still the same boy he'd introduced to the wonders of the night sky and rocked as he cried. It had been so incredibly welcome.
It's strange what you could grow accustomed to given enough time but he hadn't realised how much he had missed that simple closeness until he had it again. How much he'd missed a casual hand on his arm in the place of words, inquiring as to his well being, how much he'd missed the warm weight of a brother squashed beside him on the couch and was grateful to have it again.
His brothers had seemed more relaxed too, like they weren't worrying about him as much and that in turn allowed him to relax with them. They were still respectful of his personal space, giving him time to acclimatise to being home before they started mauling him, but that was fine by him. No one was on edge, no one was worrying that they would do the wrong thing, they had found a happy medium that had been lacking. It was nice and above all it was normal.
She was free with her affections and treated his brothers the same way, hugging them, cuddling them, comforting them, loving them and they in turn loved her back. She'd unknowingly become the glue that had cemented him back into the family that he'd broken away from, fitting him back in as if he'd never been gone.
They say that you shouldn't have to change yourself for love, but sometimes it happens for the better. A good relationship should allow you to grow in ways that benefit you not your partner. He'd never given it much thought before, other than believing it to be a load of sentimental, romantic rubbish, but he was happy to find that it was true.
The first time he'd reached out to touch for comfort had shocked him, for so long he'd not needed anyone, but it had been a long, hard day and she was there, all soft, warm and welcoming. Her hair had smelt like home, her head had fitted perfectly into the curve of his shoulder and she'd melted effortlessly in his arms.
He'd held her, solid and dependable and the world had made sense again. He'd understood what he'd been missing, understood how touch didn't have to be something you endured but something to be enjoyed.
Touch is a simple word, a simple gesture but it can convey so much.