“You’re pregnant,” Spike growled. “Were you just gonna walk home like this?”
Micah sagged, his face burning. “I’m an idiot. I realize that.”
“You could’ve told us,” Kai said, eyes narrowed. “We wouldn’t have minded.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t,” Spike muttered, throwing a dirty look at Micah. “You’re supposed to trust us! And now you’re soaked to the bone, and this bag is way too fucking heavy. What if you fell?”
Micah flinched, stung. He knew all of that. He’d thought all those same things, raising York. But now that no one needed him so much anymore... it was fine to be a little reckless. His baby would still be okay. “I just wanted to prove that I could do this myself. That I’m not... reliant on you.”
“We’re here for a reason.” Kai glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “It’s fine if you ask for help.”
Micah looked down at his hands, guilt and fatigue weighing his heart down. For so long, he’d been the strong one, raising York. He hadn’t really had anyone else to depend on. He didn’t like reaching out, proving to anyone that he was weak.
“How did you even find me?” Micah asked, so they wouldn’t focus on being angry. “I could’ve taken the car—”
“You didn’t.” Kai met his eyes, his expression grave. “York texted us. He got into an accident. That’s how we found out.”
Micah’s stomach dropped. “An accident?” he squeaked.
“He’s fine.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “He’s at the ER, but he’s short on cash. Broken arm. Nothing else.”
Micah pulled his phone out, opening his latest text. It had been from York.
Gods, he needed me and I ignored him. Micah swallowed his guilt, hitting the call button.
York answered after a couple of rings. “Dad?”
Relief unfurled through Micah’s chest. At least he’s still calling me Dad. “Are you okay? Do you hurt? Do you need me to go down to the hospital—”
“I’m fine,” York said. “But the car... It’s smashed up on the driver’s side. Sorry.”
“How did it even happen?”
There was a pause. “I missed a stoplight,” York eventually said. “A car crashed into me.”
Micah’s stomach twisted. If the car hadn’t stopped in time, if it hadn’t only been York’s arm that was hurt... I could have lost my son. He pictured the scene in his head, over and over. So many different ways York could have died.
He whimpered, hunching over. If he’d left things as they were, York giving him the cold shoulder... Micah would have regretted that for the rest of his life.
“You could’ve left the car at home,” Spike said loudly, enough that York could hear him over the line. “So your dad didn’t have to walk home in the rain. He tripped just getting into our car.”
York went silent. Micah cringed. They’d all been walking on eggshells around each other for the past month, and Micah was so tired of it.
“I’ll grab a cab down,” Micah said.
“You don’t have to,” York muttered, but Micah heard the reluctance in his voice. Even with his part-time job, York didn’t have the money to pay for everything.
Micah sighed. “I’ll be down in a while. Give me some time.”
“Thanks,” York said, sounding awkward.
The call ended. His hands shaking, Micah dropped his phone and leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He thought about York in the hospital, some car almost mowing down his baby. That was terrifying.
“I—I need to go to the hospital,” he mumbled, needing to see York. Just to make sure that York was really fine.
The car pulled to a stop; Kai cut the engine. Then he opened the door, and the rain pattered loudly in Micah’s ears.
“We’ll go,” Spike said. “But after you get into some dry clothes.”
“But you’re angry,” Micah blurted.
“We’re angry because you should’ve trusted us.” Spike scowled. “But we’re not leaving you.”
Kai opened the backdoor, scooping Micah out into his warm embrace. “Can’t carry you,” Kai muttered. “Ankle’s still healing.”
But he slid his arm around Micah’s waist, holding Micah flush against his chest. This... it felt like forgiveness. Micah gulped, tentatively leaning into Kai, just breathing in his elm scent, and the rain pattering into his dry shirt.
Kai kissed his temple, stroking Micah’s back.
Spike handed the grocery bag to Kai. Then he swept Micah off his feet; Micah yelped.
“We’ll get you showered and cleaned up,” Spike said. “After that, we’ll go to the hospital with you.”
Micah didn’t have the strength to protest. Kai led the way to the apartment; Spike carried him through the front door.
The moment they locked the deadbolt, Spike set Micah down, hiking up Micah’s waterlogged sweater. Micah gulped, swaying on his feet. He’d never been naked in his living room before. He felt... exposed. But safe.
“How’re you feeling?” Kai asked when he stepped out of the kitchen, Micah’s groceries tucked away.
Spike dropped Micah’s sweater next to them, working on the drawstrings of his flannel pants. He glanced at Micah’s face, though, waiting for an answer.
Micah blushed. Even though they’d gotten mad at him, they were still here. Still concerned. “I’m fine.”
Spike narrowed his eyes. “No, tell us the truth.”
Micah huffed, sagging against the door. He couldn’t hide anything from Spike, could he? “My fatigue hit. It’s difficult to even move.”
“You should’ve told us.” Clicking his tongue, Kai stepped up to them, crouching to pull Micah’s shoes off his feet. “Can’t help you if you don’t.”
Then Micah was completely naked, his damp skin slowly cooling in the apartment’s dry air. He felt a little less self-conscious around them now, after consecutive nights spent naked in Kai and Spike’s bed. They knew what he looked like. They’d kissed him anyway.
Kai and Spike brought him into the bathroom. They stripped. Spike ran the shower, until steam puffed out from behind the shower curtain. Kai pressed up against Micah’s back, wrapping his arms around Micah,
