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 Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:13 am
Takes place same time as: As Long as You're Here
He hated that part of himself the most. The part that knew when to let go.
Michael rested his hands on the railing, fingers curling slowly into the wood. His shoulders ached, although not from any physical strain of setting Atticus’s shoulder earlier, but from the weight that surrounded it all. From the moment after, when Atticus had gone very still and very polite. He’d thanked them both. Said he was tired. Michael watched that familiar withdrawal settle into him, knowing danger had passed but now the rest of the thoughts could now catch up.
“They’re too young,” Michael said at last. His voice was low, rough from restraint. “All of them.”
Seventeen. Knights. Soldiers with homework and curfews and acne and growing pains.
He turned slightly, glancing back at Devyn without fully facing him yet. “We know there’s a General moving in the city. We know he hurt them. That his youma are hunting them. We saw how that building was set up. If you hadn’t—” His jaw tightened. Devyn very likely saved their lives while they were inspecting that building. The General had absolutely been planning on killing whoever else ventured into that place.
“I hate not knowing how to find him. Or what to do about him. I don’t know what the right answer is,” he admitted quietly. “If we pull them all in close—... if we lock the doors, ground them, forbid them from going out… we take away the only freedom some of them have ever been given. But if we let them go… if we trust them to ask for help when it’s too much—”
Michael let out a breath, sharp and controlled. “That assumes they’ll realize before it’s too late.”
He finally turned toward Devyn then, expression open in a way he only allowed himself to be with his husband. Not panicked or angry. Just tired, and afraid, and filled with worry that he could do nothing about.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:14 am
Devyn’s elbows pressed into the railing. It was cold and uncomfortable, like everything else about tonight.
He’d been quiet for a while, contemplating. Watching the darkness like he expected the shadows to stretch towards them.
It was only when Michael turned to face him that Devyn stood. The depth of Michael’s concern was audible in his voice–written across his face, like worry itself had chiseled into his features.
Devyn reached out, resting his hand lightly on Michael’s arm.
He didn’t challenge the assertion that they were too young. Devyn was less than half their age when he’d first awakened. Young was young. Atticus could have been thirty and Devyn would have still thought he was too young to have to deal with this.
But, he was dealing, as best he could. As best anyone could. Probably better than most, if he was being honest.
“I trust them. Atticus could have hidden what happened tonight. He still came home so we could take care of him.” And now he was staying with Elliot, which–
There were pros and cons. Devyn was glad he had someone he felt so safe with. He’d have preferred if they were all under the same roof tonight, but like Michael he found himself resisting the urge to impose.
Teenagers were a delicate thing. Traumatized ones moreso. Freshly injured ones, especially.
“I think they realize they’re in over their head. I think they know this isn’t going away.”
Devyn’s voice was low, not a growl, just heavy. Tired.
Furious.
“I don’t know how the General is being so evasive.” Didn’t know how the youma were tracking the boys, either. Them, and all their friends.
They might not know where to find him, but Devyn didn’t believe that Michael didn’t know what to ‘do about him’.
There was really only one thing at this point.
“But he’s only human. He can’t hide forever. I want to visit where they were attacked. I’ll see if Lucien can pull up any surveillance footage from nearby.” There were unusual elements within Atticus’ story, but Devyn doubted it was because he’d been confused or forgetful. Shaken, of course. But that was expected after everything he’d gone through tonight.
“We can’t ground them all, anyway. Atticus, Elliot,” he shrugged. Maybe they could get away with some light house arrest for those two. “I don’t want their friends to go out and get hurt. Maybe they won’t, maybe they’ll all decide to stay home for a little while after this. It sounds like they could all use some time to rest and recover.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:19 am
Michael barely registered the cold until Devyn’s hand settled on his arm.
Then it hit him all at once. The way the night bit through his sweater, the stiffness creeping into his fingers where they curled around the railing, the ache in his shoulders that had nothing to do with muscles. He’d been standing out there too long. He knew that. He just hadn’t cared.
He shifted slightly toward Devyn without fully pulling away from the railing yet, as if the contact itself was a good enough anchor. Enough to remind him where he was. Still present. Still needed.
“You’re freezing,” Michael murmured, more observation than apology. There was a quiet, rueful huff of breath afterward. “Or I am. One of the two.”
He stayed there anyway, but his hand slid off the railing at last, fingers flexing as if testing whether they still worked. He glanced down at Devyn’s arm for a moment, before lifting his gaze back out into the dark and the lights of the house through their joined backyards.
“I know you’re right,” he said quietly. “About Atticus. About them knowing when to come home.” The tension in his jaw eased a little. “If he’d wanted to hide it… he could have. He’d survived this long without us, after all. But he didn’t.”
There seemed to be more to it than just Atticus and his friends being hurt, but Michael knew better than to pry. Atticus and Elliot would tell them when they were ready. If they ever were.
At Devyn’s suggestion, Michael straightened a little.
“We should go back,” he agreed. “Where they were attacked. If there’s anything left that could be clues, or something he overlooked when he left them there, I want to try to find it. Lucien too. He’ll see what we don’t.”
He paused. The weight of what happened didn’t disappear, but it shifted into something less suffocating and more focused.
Michael let out a slow breath, then glanced over at Devyn, something quieter and almost curious weaving through the tension. “You said ‘ground them’ like it was hypothetical,” he observed. “Which made me realize… I’ve never actually asked.”
A corner of his mouth twitched, faint but it was real. “What was it like when you were grounded?”
There was a pause, then a softer addition, touched with slightly exasperated disbelief. “I can’t imagine it was easy to keep you locked up for long.”
He finally turned fully toward Devyn, one hand lifting to rest briefly at Devyn’s wrist.
“I don’t want to cage them,” Michael said, quieter now. “But I won’t stand still while someone hunts our kids. Or anyone else’s.”
His thumb brushed lightly against Devyn’s skin. “We’ll find him. Together.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:19 am
“You’re freezing,” Devyn said. The cold clung to his outfit, but it wasn’t much competition for his natural warmth. His breath was hot in the air, visible. He moved closer to Michael and wrapped an arm around him to help warm him up.
“We’ll find him,” he agreed. Devyn’s ability to temper his rage should have been praised; he wanted nothing more than to hunt him down now, to snap his neck, to be done with it.
This wasn’t the world he wanted Atticus to live in.
But they’d be one step closer once they got rid of their son’s newest nightmare.
His husband’s newest nightmare, too.
Michael had too much on his mind already, and Devyn didn’t want him to sink further into his own thoughts. He needed a distraction tonight now as much as Atticus did.
Planting a kiss on Michael’s temple, he let his warm lips linger before asking, close to the shell of his ear, “I was a very good boy, Michael. There was never any need to ground me. Besides,” he said, a bit indignantly, “I was too cute.”
No, he was a troublemaker. More so the moment anyone tried to trap him somewhere. He had too much energy, too many things to do.
He had been a well-behaved child. Once.
So he continued, “When I was small, my mother would make me sit down in her lap, and she would tell me what I did wrong, and then we would talk about how to fix it. I was never sent to my room, I was given tasks and a plan to make things right. I don’t think that would work on Atticus, he doesn’t do anything wrong.” But he wouldn’t have minded the affection, probably.
“When I was older, I was the senshi,” he shrugged. “They did lock me in my room sometimes, and I would get very mad, and I would throw temper tantrums, and then I learned that anytime I was breaking the rules, I should just run away. I did that a lot.”
Ran half an hour to the next town over–Arista, where he usually found himself, eventually, at Atrius’ home. He wasn’t punished much there, either. “I didn’t do ‘grounding’ very well. Locking me up only made me learn how to pick locks and unscrew hinges. Sometimes my Council would scold me,” he mused. “Or Atrius. Sometimes Virgil would make me come work at the dock. I’m a bit difficult to punish. Always have been.”
His hand smoothed down Michael’s back and pulled him closer, so he could wrap both arms around him. They’d wind up going back to the laundromat, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow night.
But Michael deserved a moment to breathe, first. Devyn could feel the tension he was carrying in his shoulders, his back. Everywhere else too, probably.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:19 am
Michael let out a quiet, helpless snort at that, the sound puffing white into the cold air.
“Too cute,” he echoed, tipping his head just enough to glance at Devyn out of the corner of his eye. “Right. How can I argue with a defense like that?”
His hand came up automatically to Devyn’s side, fingers curling into the fabric there as the warmth pressed in around him. He leaned into it without comment, letting himself be held, letting the tension drain in small pieces instead of all at once.
“You were a troublemaker?” he hummed, a little teasing. “Still are.”
The story settled into him. How Devyn’s mother held him, made plans instead of punishment, gave him guidance. Michael listened closely, his expression easing.
“I think Atticus would like that. The talking part. Planning. Being trusted.”
When Devyn reached the part about locks and hinges, Michael huffed again, this time more fond than exasperated. His thumb brushed small circles against Devyn’s back, a grounding motion meant as much for himself as for his husband.
“Let me guess,” he said dryly. “Lucien.”
He tipped his head back slightly to look at Devyn properly now, one brow lifting. “He absolutely seems like the type to hand a bored, restless young senshi a toolkit and say, ‘Here, try this instead of starting a revolution.’” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Even without all his memories, he’s… incredibly indulgent with you.”
Michael shifted then, one arm sliding more firmly around Devyn’s waist. Not restraining him, just anchoring.
“I’m okay,” he said quietly, before Devyn could worry himself into asking. “I promise. Just… restless.” His jaw tightened briefly, then willed it to ease. “I don’t want anyone else hurt. Not Atticus. Not Elliot. Not their friends. Not someone we haven’t met yet because this General hasn’t finished whatever he’s doing.”
He rested his forehead lightly against Devyn’s for a moment, breath warm despite the cold.
“We’ll stop him,” Michael said. “And then, maybe after, we can figure out how to keep the kids safe without teaching them how to pick locks. Although, who knows. Maybe it’ll be a good skill to have.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:20 am
When Michael’s grip around his waist tightened, Devyn leaned into him.
Restlessness, he understood. He didn’t want anyone else to get hurt, either.
Michael’s huffing was cute. His flirting, too. Devyn confirmed nothing, but he smiled.
“It’s a good skill to have.” They had good boys; he couldn’t imagine them picking locks with ill intention. What were they going to do, rob people? They could get anything they wanted from Michael already.
“We’ll have plenty of time with the kids after this,” he promised. There was no future where the kids weren’t there with them, and maybe Michael just needed to hear it.
They would stop this General.
“We’ll let them rest for tonight. They need it. They’re under a lot of pressure. But you are, too.”
Michael radiated a sort of nervous stress. Even if his body wasn’t a canvas of knots, Devyn would have known how worn he was just by the nervous hum on his skin.
“I’m worried about you, Michael.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:20 am
Michael stiffened, just a little, before he caught himself.
“Uh oh,” he said lightly, trying for humor even as his shoulders betrayed him by tensing first. “I know it’s bad when you’re worried about me.” A faint huff followed, half amused, half with self awareness. “You’re usually very careful not to do anything that makes me worry.”
He shifted his weight, adjusting his hold on Devyn as if that were the reason, then leaned back into him again. The tension didn’t vanish, but it eased enough to let him breathe.
“I’m not—” he paused, then corrected himself with a quiet exhale. “Okay, I’m not falling apart.” A small grimace followed. “I know that’s what I sound like.”
His hand slid a little higher along Devyn’s back. “I just… feel like if I stop moving, I’ll start thinking too much. And if I start thinking too much, I’ll end up three steps ahead of where we actually are, imagining outcomes that haven’t happened yet.”
He shook his head lightly with a small sigh. “That’s not helping anyone.”
Michael tilted his forehead back towards Devyn’s shoulder, drawing comfort from the familiar warmth. “I’ll tone it down,” he said more seriously. “I promise.” There was no dismissal of the concern. Just agreement and trust.
“...And for the record,” he added, dry humor creeping back in, “if you say you’re worried about me, I’m probably overdue for being reminded that I don’t have to carry everything alone.”
His thumb traced a slow, absent line at Devyn’s side. “Thank you. For watching me the way I watch everyone else.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:20 am
“I’m not asking you to tone anything down.” Devyn stayed still, for Michael more than himself. He didn’t want to feed into that restlessness by charging Michael with his own abundance of energy.
“I’m only asking that you make sure you make time to take care of yourself. Or make time for me to do it for you.”
Without interference, Michael was likely to work himself to the bone, and beyond.
“I don’t think you sound like you’re falling apart.”
The arms draped around Michael’s waist pulled him closer, heavy enough for presence only. Devyn didn’t want to cage him, only love him.
“I do think you sound like someone who is trying to shoulder the burden all by himself so he can give others a break.”
Devyn was careful not to do or say anything to make Michael worry–and, usually his worry for Michael was fairly subdued under the weight of his competency, resilience, and general proficiency. Devyn knew Michael was entirely capable of taking care of himself.
Most of the time.
“But you need a break, too. I have strong shoulders. Really, I don’t know why you don’t let me carry more for you.”
Stubborness. Pride. A need to prove to others and himself that he was worth keeping around.
Devyn kissed him gently.
“If you get lost in your head, I’ll find you, and bring you home to rest. Which,” he swayed Michael slightly, in a slow motion dance that seemed like it was headed towards the door, “also sounds like a good idea for tonight. You should let me make you some tea and give you a massage. We’ll both sleep better.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:21 am
Michael drew in a slow breath, and then let it out just as carefully, like he’d braced himself for something that ended up being gentler than he’d expected.
“I know,” he said softly. “And I know you’re not telling me to stop caring.”
His arms tightened around Devyn for a moment, then loosened again. Not pulling away, just adjusting, as though trying to make room for the argument he was having with himself. He pressed his forehead briefly against Devyn’s shoulder, a gesture that was both restless and conflicted.
“I keep thinking that if I just… stay a step ahead, maybe I can stop it before it happens,” he admitted. “Have something ready. A plan, or at least a contingency.” A quiet huff followed, more tired than frustrated. “I don’t like waiting for the next attack — for the boys to come home hurt — to point out what we missed.”
At the mention of Devyn’s shoulders, Michael’s mouth twitched despite himself. He didn’t look up right away.
“That’s not fair,” he murmured. “You know that works on me.”
His hand was still at Devyn’s side, but the movement stopped for the moment. Instead, he said nothing for a few seconds. He just stood there, letting the warmth and weight of Devyn keep him grounded while his mind ran in anxious circles.
“I don’t want to add more to your plate,” he said finally, quieter now but honest. “You already carry… so much. An entire world. There are countless others who rely on you. I don’t want to be another weight.”
It was an excuse. He knew it. They both did.
Michael let out a breath, long and slow, and some of the fight that lingered in him escaped along with it. “But I also know you wouldn’t offer if you didn’t mean it,” he conceded.
When Devyn swayed him, Michael let himself go, just a little, following the motion instead of resisting it. His grip shifted, one hand sliding up Devyn’s back, fingers spread out as if to confirm he was real and solid and there.
“...Alright,” he said at last, the word carrying more surrender than defeat in its weight. “Tea. And rest.” A faint, resigned smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll try not to plan the downfall of a General for a whole hour.”
He leaned in a little close, voice low and earnest near Devyn’s ear.
“Thank you,” he added. “For finding me when I get lost. Even when I pretend I don’t need it.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:21 am
They had plans. A million plans.
It would never be enough. What they knew yesterday was different from what they knew today, and the plans they had before already needed revisions.
Devyn had learned a long time ago that there was no way to predict the future, and preparations could only extend so far.
You could lose your mind trying to prepare for every outcome.
“I carry what I want to carry,” Devyn reassured, and released Michael from the embrace so he could scoop him up into his arms. His lips found Michael’s, but he’d already turned towards the door to carry him back inside.
“And my arms are never too full for you.”
He maneuvered the door open, and a wave of warmth washed over them immediately.
“An hour is all I’ll ask of you tonight.”
They could talk to Lucien to coordinate an investigation at the laundromat sometime soon. He didn’t want to go far, not tonight. Not when Atticus might need them.
Not when Michael needed to slow down, before he got himself sick.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:21 am
Michael made a quiet sound of protest as Devyn lifted him, although it was more out of reflex than resistance. But his arms went around Devyn’s shoulders anyway, warm in Devyn’s arms.
“You know,” he said, his breath a little unsteady despite himself. “There was a time in my life when I was fairly sure I was… objectively difficult to pick up.”
He was forty now. Ex-military. Had calloused hands, muscle memory from years of training, and knew exactly how much his body could carry. None of that seemed to matter when Devyn decided otherwise.
Michael glanced down at him, a little flushed, lips twitching despite his best efforts. “I work very hard,” he added, both exasperated and fond, “to maintain the illusion that I’m not effortlessly portable.”
The warmth of the house wrapped around them, and something in Michael eased with it — his shoulders, his breathing, the need to stay vigilant for something that would inevitably go wrong. He let his forehead rest just briefly against Devyn’s temple, eyes closing for a moment.
“And yet,” he sighed contentedly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how safe this feels.”
He kissed Devyn back then, gentle at first and a little tentative, before it deepened into something warmer and unmistakably affectionate. When he pulled back, his expression was that of an earnest kind of love that never truly disappeared whenever he looked at Devyn.
“You make it sound so simple,” Michael said quietly. His thumb brushed Devyn’s jaw, both reverent and familiar all at once. “If this is something you’re choosing to carry,” he added quietly, “then I trust you enough to let you. I know you know your own strength.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:22 am
Devyn’s lips curled into a soft smile. He closed the door behind him using only his foot.
“Some things are so simple.”
Like carrying Michael to the living room and laying him down on the couch, where there was already a soft pillow to rest his head. He’d have taken him to bed but Devyn didn’t want to be so far from him, and he still had tea to brew.
“If it’s of any comfort to you, you do not give the illusion of being effortlessly portable. You’re a very strong, independent, handsome man. Even so, all the more reason to let yourself be pampered every now and then.”
Devyn’s body hadn’t caught up with his age but he held no delusions that one day he wouldn’t be fighting with sore muscles and rattly bones.
He had a lot of lost time to make up for, and he wanted Michael in his arms for all of it.
“You’ve worked so hard to keep everyone else safe. You deserve that comfort, too.”
Though Michael now lay on the couch, Devyn could not bring himself to rush from his side.The light was kind to Michael, caressing the contours of his face with such tenderness that Devyn found himself jealous. Unwilling, and unable, to contain himself, he stroked Michael’s cheek fondly, tracing down his jaw and resting his hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to kiss him.
“If you’re not used to it yet, it just means we’ll have to do it more often.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:22 am
Michael’s breath caught, just a little, when Devyn laid him down — less from the motion itself and more from how much care was in the gesture. He didn’t protest. Didn’t joke. He let himself rest exactly where Devyn placed him.
His hand came up almost automatically to Devyn’s wrist when Devyn stroked his cheek, anchoring himself through his husband’s warmth and familiar weight of his touch. His thumb brushed lightly at Devyn’s skin in return.
“You say all that,” Michael huffed, but his voice was softer now, unguarded, “like I’m not already considering if I should argue with you.”
But there was no heat behind it. Just fondness. And maybe some fatigue.
He tilted his head slightly into Devyn’s hand, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening again, searching Devyn’s face as if trying to commit it to memory. Every line, every expression that promised safety and love.
“I want to keep thinking,” he admitted quietly. “About the boys. About what comes next. About what we might have missed.” His jaw tightened, then eased as he let out a breath. “But… you’re right. There isn’t anything more we can do for them tonight. They’re home. They’re together. And they know where we are.”
His fingers curled gently around Devyn’s wrist, not to hold him in place, but rather just to stay connected. “So I’ll keep my word,” he said, a faint smile on his lips despite the partial attempt, and failure, at feigning annoyance. “I’ll let myself rest. I’ll let you take care of me.”
Michael leaned up just enough to meet Devyn’s kiss again, slower this time, lingering and sincere. When he settled back, his expression was warm and openly affectionate.
“And if I’m still not used to being pampered,” he added softly. “I suppose I can endure the hardship of learning.”
His hand slid to Devyn’s forearm, thumb brushing there in a quiet echo of Devyn’s touch. He almost asked him to stay. The word hovered on his tongue, unspoken, before he pressed his lips together and let it go. Devyn had already said he was going to make tea.
Michael drew in a steadying breath and gave a small smile. “Go,” he said gently. “I’ll be right here. I can manage a few minutes without you.”
At least he told himself he could handle it. He knew it would be laughable if he couldn’t.
He squeezed Devyn’s arm, a little firmer than necessary, then let his hand fall back to the couch.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:22 am
And yet, Devyn lingered. He stated his intention to leave, but the declaration was easier to speak than act upon.
Truthfully, he didn’t want to leave Michael’s side. The kitchen wasn’t so far away. It wouldn’t take him long to get some tea brewing.
But even seconds felt too long.
He needed Michael to rest. Needed him to feel the embrace of the couch, the softness of the pillows, the warmth of the blankets. Devyn busied himself with tucking Michael in–a worthwhile excuse to eke out a few more seconds together.
He also needed to make sure Michael wasn’t left alone with his thoughts. In solitude, they tended to grow in volume and in presence.
Devyn kissed him once more, more passionately than he needed to. Enough that his lips tingled when he drew away.
The space between the couch and kitchen was nothing at all when Devyn’s voice could carry.
“Think about the boys all you want. All you need. They’re safe tonight, that’s the most important thing. Whatever we missed, and whatever comes next, can wait until morning.”
Why would the General return to the laundromat? He had nothing to gain. And from what he’d heard so far, it wasn’t like it was at much risk of someone else taking up that space.
“It might be wise to get them to recount everything again tomorrow, after they’ve had some time to recharge.” Mentally, physically, emotionally.
Devyn glanced out the window, as if he’d be able to see Atticus and Elliot safe and together at the Reid’s house.
“Which gives you plenty of time to recharge, too. You’ll have to set a good example for them. They both look up to you, you know.”
If there was any subject to fill the space between them, it would be singing Michael’s praises. Devyn could carry on for at least as long as it took to make a cup of tea. Could carry on all night–maybe all week, even.
And he would have, if it meant Michael gave himself a chance to breathe.
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 7:22 am
Michael couldn’t help the small, fond smile that curved at Devyn’s lingering, at the way he tucked him in as if Michael were something precious instead of a grown man with who took on too many responsibilities and not enough sleep. He didn’t comment on it, but instead shifted a little under the blanket, letting himself be pampered.
He kissed Devyn back when he leaned in again, unhurried and full, a soft sound escaping before he could stop it. When Devyn pulled away, Michael’s eyes, full of appreciation, lingered on him longer than necessary.
“I know why you’re hovering,” he said gently, not accusing. “And… I’m okay. Really.”
At the mention of the boys looking up to him, something in Michael’s expression shifted. Protective, resolute, but not overwhelmed. “I know,” he said softly. “That’s part of why it scares me. And why I try so hard to make sure everything’s done right. Asking them to recount everything is probably a good start. Once they’ve rested and recharged.”
He let out a quiet sigh, but there was warmth in his voice. “So… I’ll rest and recharge too. And I’ll do my best to show them that even when things are bad, you’re allowed to stop and breathe.” He paused, then looked up at Devyn, his expression unmistakably fond. “You’re already setting a good example, after all.”
He lifted a brow slightly in feigned exasperation to hide his amusement. “I’m sure Atticus will grow up thinking it’s perfectly normal to shove an entire egg into his mouth or pull something out of the toaster with no mitt.” A quiet huff of laughter followed, but his gaze softened again.
“We’ll look after them. Together. But tonight… I’ll let myself be looked after too.”
There was less tension now. Less fear of the silence of solitude, no matter how short.
“Go make the tea,” he said gently. “I’ll be right here.”
Fin!
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