It had been four months since he’d conceived their baby, and Micah couldn’t shake this fear that somehow, they’d reject him now that they knew he could look better.
It almost killed him, waiting for their answer.
“You look good,” Spike said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. “Why...?”
“I think you look better without,” York said.
“I’d have to agree with York,” Kai said, meeting Micah’s eyes. “This isn’t who you are.”
Then I’m just an ugly person? Micah’s chest squeezed tight; his eyes watered. He hobbled away, trying to get out of the kitchen. I’ll never be pretty to them.
All three alphas cursed.
Spike hauled him back, wrapping strong arms around Micah. “No, don’t cry. You’re beautiful.” Spike kissed Micah’s temple, holding Micah tight against his chest. “It just—It doesn’t depend on your face. It never has.”
“Sorry,” Kai said, crowding against Micah’s back, burying his nose in Micah’s hair. “I just meant that your looks aren’t important. I’ve told you that before. But the scars are what makes you strong. I wouldn’t erase them.”
“Yeah,” York said. “Maybe it’s because you’re my dad, but I’ve never cared about how you look.”
“But I—” Micah gulped, misery swelling through his too-tight chest. Short of surgery, there was no way Micah could look good for his alphas. He didn’t want the scars. He didn’t want to feel out-of-place next to them. He wanted to feel like he was worth something. “I just—I want to be—”
Why was it so difficult to look beautiful?
Micah’s heart squeezed. He sobbed, each heave wracking through his body.
“Shit.” Spike released Micah, cupping his face. Spike looked uncertain now, regretful. “Don’t cry.”
Micah cried, unable to help himself. For so long, he’d put up with all the ugliness of his scars. There wasn’t any point trying to erase them. And now that he’d tried... his alphas didn’t appreciate the effort.
“I want to be pretty,” Micah choked through his sobs, so at least they’d understand.
Spike sucked in a sharp breath, exchanging a look with Kai.
“Then do what it takes to make you feel good,” Kai said. “You’re pretty when you’re happy.”
“Yeah,” Spike said softly. “If you want more makeup, we’ll get you that. But whatever you do to the scars, it won’t change how Kai and I feel about you. I love you.”
They were still here. The tension in his chest unfurling, Micah sobbed into Spike’s shoulder, leaving a mess of makeup on his shirt.
Kai and Spike held him. Spike dropped kisses on Micah’s ear. Kai dragged his wrists down Micah’s chest, and Spike marked Micah’s sides. Despite Micah’s crying, and his botched-up cosmetics... they were still here. They weren’t going away.
“Sorry. We didn’t realize it before,” Spike said hesitantly. “I mean, we thought we could convince you that you look good, and that’d be enough.”
“Didn’t realize you wanted to look normal so much,” Kai added, kissing Micah’s ear. “Sorry. Go ahead and do the makeup if you want. We won’t judge.”
Micah trembled in their arms, leaning into their chests. He forced himself to stop crying. He was older than all of them. He was supposed to be stronger than this.
Slowly, he sniffled, swiping at the tears on his face. Spike grabbed a paper towel, dabbing Micah’s cheeks dry. Kai brushed Micah’s hair out of his face.
And now Micah felt embarrassed, bawling like he had. “Sorry. I just...”
Spike kissed his lips. “I grew up watching you with your scars. You can change your looks how you want, but to me, it’s your heart that matters.”
“Yeah.” Kai’s breath puffed into Micah’s hair. “Spike’s walked around town with your scars painted on his face.”
Micah winced. “You did?”
Spike squirmed. “I didn’t do it to be rude, or anything. I just... wondered how it felt to have scars. So I got some poster paints and painted some on my face. I was young and stupid. Sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize for that.” His nose stopped up, Micah breathed through his mouth, picturing Spike with blotchy paint all over his face. It mightn’t have been the same, but... the sentiment was sweet.
Spike had tried to walk in Micah’s shoes. Maybe that was all Micah needed.
A soft laugh bubbled out of him, unbidden.
“There you go,” Kai murmured, stroking Micah’s back. “If you tell us which brands you like, we’ll grab some makeup for you.”
“You don’t have to,” Micah said, turning so he could see Kai, too.
Kai met his eyes, his smile tentative. “Sorry for making you cry.”
“No, no. It’s fine.” Micah tipped his face up—an invitation. And Kai leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to his lips. Kai’s kiss said We’re here, and You matter to me.
Micah’s heart thumped for him. For both of them. Kai and Spike, who stood with him, uncertain looks on both their faces. They cared.
“Food’s starting to burn,” York said to the side.
Micah yelped. Kai pressed his palm over Micah’s heart; Spike reached for the stove, grabbing the pans off the electric burners.
“It’s fine,” Spike said. “I saved the food.”
Micah made sure that Spike turned the burners off. Then he glanced back at York, feeling sheepish. He’d been the one making food. He shouldn’t have messed up.
And now, York had seen Micah with his alphas. Over the past few weeks, Micah had refrained from being intimate with Kai and Spike in front of his son, for fear of York judging them more than he already had.
Instead of scowling at Kai and Spike like he’d been doing, York looked thoughtful.
“You knew my dad?” York asked. “For years?”
Spike straightened his shoulders. “Yeah. Ever since that backyard party with the fire.”
Gods, that was a long time ago. And a painful memory. Micah couldn’t imagine having that kind of impact on anyone’s life—except it had already happened.
York grimaced. “Yeah, I remember you. You’ve been creeping on my dad since then?”
Spike tightened his arm around Micah’s waist, narrowing his eyes. “I wasn’t creeping. I’d just... noticed him for years. I’ve loved him for longer than you can imagine.”
“You aren’t just fucking with him?” York glanced at Kai, too, suspicious.
