|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:11 am
Takes place early July 2025 Atticus tried to pretend like he didn’t notice the way his dads looked at each other when he told them he was heading over to see Elliot. He thought he was doing a good job at being normal about things, at pretending as if he wasn’t completely shaken. But maybe he hadn’t answered them quick enough, or maybe he didn’t smile bright enough. Maybe there was something in the pause between his words that gave him away.
Had he missed something they asked him? Did they offer to get him ice cream, or asked if he wanted to watch a movie, and he had been too busy listening to his own heartbeat pounding in his ears to realize?
They didn’t push him. They never did. They were always so kind and respectful of his space and his needs. And he knew they were there if he wanted to talk. But what was there to say? They’d been sitting right there in the exam room, heard the same words he had. They’d asked the questions he wouldn’t have even known to think of. He was grateful for that. Grateful he wasn’t alone, and would never have to be anymore.
And yet the doctor’s words had sunk into him like hooks. Every breath, every heartbeat, felt like he was being dragged down to a place he couldn’t crawl back from.
The path through their backyards was damp, rain still dripping from the canopy overhead. It speckled his hair as he shuffled across the stone path, hands crossed protectively over his chest. The rhythm of the rain should have been calming, but all it did was remind him that he felt like he was drowning.
The Reids always said he would be welcome there, whenever he wanted to show up. Normally, he would have knocked, and then sought out Asher and Oliver to give them hugs before finding Elliot. That afternoon, he was relieved when they weren’t right there at the door. He slipped in and carefully removed his shoes before heading towards the stairs.
Elliot’s door was cracked open, and he could hear the sounds of a video game he was playing, probably with one of his friends. It was usually around this time that he spent time with them and… oh… Atticus had forgotten to check the time.
He could hear the warm laughter of his boyfriend as he responded to something his friend said, and it was as though all at once Atticus realized the things that had passed so gradually that he didn’t really pay attention to them. Things like how Elliot was always joking with Oliver that he needed new pants or shoes (“Again??”) as he continued to grow. The deepening of his voice -- still familiar, but warmer and more grounded. The angles of his face were sharpening. Already shaving. Already growing into something Atticus could never picture for himself without feeling physically ill.
Softly, Atticus knocked on the door before peeking in. His hair had been pulled back into a ponytail with a ribbon tied in a bow to hold everything in place. The shirt he wore was lightweight and stylishly loose, and covered most of the shorts he wore. His shoes were gone, but he had socks with little flowers on them. It was normal and harmless. The version of himself that he finally felt safe in.
‘Sorry,’ he mouthed, and gave Elliot a small wave as he quietly shut the door behind him. He padded across the short distance to reach him and leaned down to share a quick kiss hello.
“You can keep playing, I just want to lay down,” he whispered, a hand lingering on Elliot’s shoulder longer than necessary, like he needed to ground himself. He then climbed onto the bed and flopped onto his back so he could stare up at the ceiling. His body looked the same as it had yesterday… and yet it felt like everything had already begun slipping away from him.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:18 am
Though there was a flash of confusion and surprise when Atticus joined him, Elliot’s face rapidly settled into a pleased grin. “Hey, I gotta take a break, I’ll be back later,” he said into his headphones, already tugging them off. He muted them and tossed them off to the side before rising from his chair, stretching slightly, and then making his way over to the bed.
He crawled onto it, crawled over Atticus so his hips were between Elliot’s knees and he had a hand planted by each of Atticus’ shoulders. This had become his new favorite thing to do when Atticus was already in bed, and he’d either pepper his face with kisses or collapse on top of him like a heated blanket.
Elliot’s body never caged Atticus’, just molded around him, protectively. Lovingly.
His hair fell in his face, too fluffy and tousled, but he just looked down at Atticus fondly. He couldn’t stay like that, and with an annoyed grunt he had to stretch and grope for his headband on the bedside table, but even that only helped so much.
There was something worrisome chiseled into Atticus’ features, a weight that hadn’t been there before. Atticus had gone to the doctor’s earlier but this hadn’t been a secret between them. He hadn’t been expecting Atticus back now, or for him to show up like this, but Elliot had been ready to drop everything for him regardless.
He didn’t ask if Atticus was okay, he didn’t look okay. He looked like he was wearing a mask that said ‘okay’.
So instead he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:23 am
Elliot following him onto the bed hadn’t been a surprise. But there was a bite of guilt in his chest that whispered he’d interrupted Elliot’s time with his other friends. Atticus would never tire of staying by Elliot’s side; however, he wasn’t going to deny that he knew how clingy he could be. How much he craved being close to him.
But Elliot was safe. He’d saved him in more ways than Atticus had words to explain. Made him feel like everything would be okay, no matter what happened. The way Elliot seemed to form a barrier around him helped silence the world around them. Made it easier to focus on just him. Made it possible to just breathe again.
Even though he’d been looking up at Elliot when he spoke, it took a moment for the words to register. His hands had moved on instinct, sliding up Elliot’s sides as if to anchor him there, wrapping briefly around him before lowering them so Elliot could fix his hair.
When his gaze lifted again, he caught the concern that Elliot wasn’t voicing, gently hidden behind his question. When he lifted his hands again, it was to place gently on Elliot’s face. Fingertips delicately traced along his jaw and cheekbone -- both more defined now than when they’d first started spending time together before highschool. And in ways he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to memorize them, even though each touch made something painful twist inside him. Elliot was growing and changing, and Atticus…
His own eyes stung, but he silently nodded to let Elliot know that yes, he could kiss him. Because words felt dangerous right now. Because his throat was tight, and he wasn’t sure if speaking would betray him. What if those hooks buried into him dragged his fear into the light to be on full display? What if it happened now? What if his voice cracked, deepened, betrayed him before he was ready? What if, the moment it was spoken out loud, everything started changing?
If he was going to drown, he would rather it be in the deep blue of Elliot’s eyes. Not in the sound of his own voice becoming something he couldn’t accept.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:27 am
Atticus’ eyes were wet with tears that had yet to fall. Elliot didn’t know if he could stop them from coming but he could at least be here when they did. He looked down at Atticus with a soft smile. There was an apology hidden in his gaze, not out of pity, but because he knew the world was cruel.
He couldn’t see what Atticus was carrying but he didn’t need to know in order to help him carry it.
If Atticus wanted to talk, he would. If he needed to be coaxed into the safety of communication, or if he just needed somewhere safe to be while he processed it, Elliot could provide.
But first, a kiss.
It wasn’t anything demanding. Elliot smoothed Atticus’ hair out of his face. His touch was gentle, like butterfly wings tickling over Atticus’ soft skin. He leaned in to press their lips together. It lasted for a few seconds, and when he’d finished, he collapsed–carefully–atop Atticus, letting his body spread across him like a weighted blanket.
He wanted to know the reason for the tears. Was he sick? Stressed? Overstimulated?
Something worse?
An avalanche of questions might be overwhelming. He tucked his face into the crook of Atticus’ neck and kissed there, next.
“I missed you. The rain was making me tired, I’m glad to have an excuse to get back in bed.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:27 am
The kiss ended too soon, but Atticus couldn’t bring himself to complain. He was in Elliot’s arms, where the world always felt safer, and he felt loved.
When Elliot settled over him, he was forced to let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He lifted his arms to wrap around his boyfriend once more, one hand smoothing over his back while with his other he sunk his fingers into the thick waves of unruly black hair, holding him closer.
His eyes fluttered shut and he turned his head just enough to press a partial kiss against Elliot’s forehead, not wanting to dislodge him from where his face was against his neck.
His throat was tight, and he knew he was taking a risk by saying anything, but he quietly replied, “...I missed you too.” He sounded the same. For now. A little wibbly, like he was holding back tears -- probably because he was.
“Does it bother you that I haven’t changed?” he asked after a moment, keeping his eyes shut tight. He made a bit of a face, cringing at himself. He knew that sounded weird. The words had slipped out before he could stop them. “Um… I mean… I haven’t gotten any taller, and…”
He hesitated, trailing off. He didn’t know if he had the courage to bring his fears into words. He didn’t even know what he planned to say to Elliot, just that silence felt heavier. Worse, somehow. He didn’t want Elliot to carry not knowing as he worried about him.
“And… you can be honest. I know you think I’m perfect and nothing can change your mind, but… I really need to know how you feel.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:27 am
Elliot lifted his head, in a sort of lazy way, like he might have when he was first waking up in the morning and was trying to decide if he was going to go back to bed or not. Scrutinizing Ephesus’ face was much harder than trying to decipher the numbers on his phone.
Through all of it, he kept his face relaxed. Atticus was too observant, and Elliot could already hear the emotion in his voice. He didn’t want Atticus to see furrowed brows and think they meant anger.
Elliot wouldn’t even call himself confused; he didn’t know what Atticus was talking about yet but he was patient. They could take their time to figure it out.
“Well, you already know my answer,” he answered slowly. “I think you’re perfect and nothing can change my mind. Does it bother you that you haven’t gotten any taller?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:28 am
Elliot was sweet, as always. Kind, patient, supportive. It made Atticus’s heart flutter knowing how resolute Elliot’s feelings were. Of course, he also knew that Elliot would never say anything that could hurt him. And yet… he still couldn’t see himself the way Elliot did. There were so many things he could point to and think were wrong about himself.
Or maybe… things that he’d been taught to see as wrong. The past few years with Elliot, their dads, and friends eased the nagging voices in his head, but they were always still there, pointing out how he would never be good enough. How even with his magic, he wasn’t asked to help. Maybe he wasn’t trusted. Maybe they thought he would be too emotional. Too fragile. There were only so many times he could be reassured and didn’t need help for Atticus to accept that maybe the problem was him.
And there were a lot of problems with himself that he didn’t know how to navigate.
His fingers tightened around the fabric of Elliot’s shirt. He didn’t pull at Elliot’s hair, but he certainly wouldn’t be letting go if he could help it. Even with Elliot’s weight across him, keeping him from being washed away in the sea of self doubt and confusion, he clung to him like the only life preserver he’d been thrown.
“No, but…” he tried to start, but felt the words get caught in his throat. “I’m supposed to be.”
He paused and took a breath, trying to steady his racing heart so he could make it through talking without breaking completely. There was no reason for it, just his own fears.
“They did some bloodwork while I was there,” he continued after a moment, shifting his arm a bit from around Elliot’s back so he could see the gauze taped to the inside of his elbow. It was already turning an unsightly color from bruising. He knew he should probably put ice on it, but he would rather just be miserable.
“And I have to go back to get X-rays done and an appointment with an en--uh…” he wilted a bit, unable to remember the type of doctor they were getting a referral for and feeling embarrassed for it. “I guess it’s not surprising that I haven’t been growing but…”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:29 am
Elliot’s mind filled in the blanks–endocrinologist?–but he said nothing. It wasn’t a guessing game and it didn't matter what kind of doctor. The one that did blood work and cared about growing.
“Mmhmm,” Elliot said instead, nodding as he listened, not necessarily because he agreed but because he was paying attention.
Atticus had this way of speaking where he’d find points to talk, like he was giving someone a chance to interject, or to tell him to stop.
Elliot just wanted him to know that he was still here, still paying attention. Still waiting for him to sort through his thoughts until he figured out what it was that he was trying to say.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:31 am
“I-- um…” He faltered, took a breath, anxiously ran his fingers up and down Elliot’s spine as he tried to figure out what words he wanted to say. Maybe it wasn’t worth it to say anything. Maybe he should just stop trying to explain things. Maybe he should just suck it up and not be upset. Pretend he was fine. That was easier.
But Elliot wasn’t saying anything. He wasn’t interrupting. Not because he wasn’t listening -- Atticus could tell that he was. He was just there, warm and accepting. Waiting. Maybe he just knew he needed a little more time. Elliot always seemed to know what he needed before he even said or did anything.
And… maybe that was what he was most afraid of, now -- not being given enough time. Afraid of being forced to accept something he wasn’t ready for. It sounded ridiculous in his head. Everyone went through it, so why was this so horrible to imagine?
“They are going to verify first--” he said at last, his voice shaky and quiet. “With the bloodwork and, um… the x-rays but-- um… The doctor was saying that he’d want to-- sort of jumpstart things. Puberty and, I mean, I guess they’re probably right since nothing has really changed but--”
He sucked in a breath that was more of a sob, but it made him feel ashamed and selfish for even bothering to waste his time on worrying about it.
“I--” His voice broke now. “I like myself like this. I just got used to… to being me. I know maybe I’ll be lucky and nothing big will change. I might still be-- pretty. Like Cassidy and Énna and Julian--...” he tried to explain, but choked on the words as his throat closed around them.
This time, he couldn’t bear revealing the shame on his face so he wiggled enough to get his bruised arm wedged under Elliot and up to hide his face. His muffled voice sounded frayed and desperate.
“It sounds so incredibly selfish and vain, I know that. I know I’m making a big deal over nothing. I know you’ll love me no matter what, but what if I can’t? What if I wake up and see the face of-- of him. The one who tormented me, who wanted me dead? What if I don’t recognize myself? What if there’s nothing anyone can do?”
The Mauvians had already magically altered his appearance, and later the Code did as well, to keep him safe. But some changes weren’t so easily undone. And that possibility -- of being trapped in a body he couldn’t escape -- was the fear he couldn’t ignore.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:32 am
“Oh, Atticus,” Elliot said, immediately shifting his position so he could wrap both arms around Atticus and pull him closer. He was careful not to touch his bruised arm–which they really should be icing, but it would probably be okay for a few more minutes.
“I’ll love you no matter what,” he repeated, so Atticus could hear it in his voice, clearly. “You don’t have to work so hard to explain it. You’re allowed to just want something. And you’re allowed to not want something, too. It’s okay to get the tests done, they aren’t going to change anything. You’ll get some answers. But then afterwards, you can tell the doctors you don’t want them to jumpstart something you’re not ready for. Devyn and Michael aren’t going to let anyone do anything to you.”
There was a lot about the topic that Elliot didn’t really understand, but all he needed to know was that Atticus was upset about it.
“I think you’ll be pretty no matter what. But I guess it’s really scary to not know who you’re going to grow up into. I don’t think that sounds selfish or vain at all. It’s okay to treat this like a big deal–it sounds like you’ve got a lot of scary thoughts about it. Is there anything I can do to help?”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:34 am
As Elliot held him close, Atticus broke. The sobs came unhindered now, spilling against Elliot’s shoulder as though he couldn’t hold them back now that he’d let the words out. He kept one hand over his face to hide, ashamed to be seen, but with his other he clung as best he could to Elliot, like he’d get swept away in the storm if he let go.
“I don’t know--” he choked, his throat tight and voice wobbly. He felt disgusting and childish, but Elliot was always so caring and patient and gentle. Atticus wondered if he’d actually ever done enough to deserve such grace, especially when he was so pathetic.
“But now--” he tried to explain, desperately sucking in a breath when he had a chance. “I’m afraid it’s going to start anyway. I tricked myself into thinking it would just always be like this. That maybe I wasn’t delayed, just… different.” His chest heaved, voice breaking the words around the sobs that he tried, and failed, to hold back. “But what if I wake up and it’s already too late? What if I end up sounding like him too? I don’t think I’d ever speak again--”
The thought dug deep and sharp into his chest, twisting like the hand reaching for his starseed, or the knife that had been plunged into his side. He still froze in fear every time he heard sirens. Still had nightmares of a life he tried to forget. Those moments of panic were often tempered by Lucien or Elliot’s presence. He did his best not to bother Michael and Devyn for comfort in the middle of the night. He hated how often it happened. He hated feeling like he was old enough to understand things, but young enough to need the basic attention he’d never had.
But he still had shadows of his past haunting him, as much as he tried to get away from it. Even as he tried desperately to hold onto Elliot, he was reminded of his life before -- unable to hold onto him tightly enough, his hands too weak to stay clutching to him without trembling.
He still held onto him as best he could, his voice muffled and desperate. “I don’t want to turn into someone I can’t recognize. I don’t want to disappear.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:35 am
Elliot’s arms wrapped around Atticus, pulling him close. He was a shield, never a cage, and he gave Atticus the space to cry without ever letting him feel like there was distance between them.
When Atticus finished speaking, Elliot gave him a moment longer, just to make sure he’d finished, and then he said softly, “Those things don’t happen overnight, Atticus. It won’t be like that. It’s not too late for anything.”
He wished he could have offered better reassurance beyond just delays in the natural order of things.
“You won’t look like him, Atticus. Your eyes are too kind. You won’t sound like him. Your words are too sweet. No matter what happens, you’ll be you. Not him. Changing doesn’t mean disappearing,” he promised..
But, it was different for him.
When he grew, he went from Elliot to bigger Elliot. It was simple. It was easy. He’d lived a happy life so far and he’d never had to worry about who he was or how he was perceived. He knew this was harder for Atticus, who had been through so much already and was still just trying to find his place in the world.
He had a place in Elliot’s arms, now and forever, but things couldn’t be just that simple.
“We’ll figure something out, though. It’s not going to be some crazy, fast thing. Have you told Devyn and Michael yet? I bet they can help. They’d understand. But if you haven’t, you can practice with me. I think everything you've said makes sense. I can see where you’re coming from. And I love you for it, I can tell you’re working really hard to figure this out. You’re doing a good job explaining it to me.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:36 am
Atticus wanted to believe him. He pressed closer, trying to take Elliot’s words and wrap them around himself like a layer of protection. A shield just as loving and warm as Elliot’s arms. But even as the warmth of his love steadied him, the fear didn’t dissipate.
“It… it feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to get pushed,” he whispered, voice thick from crying. His throat hurt, his head throbbed, he felt stuffy and gross, and yet Elliot never attempted to pull away from him. He sucked in a breath, shaky and uncertain, hoping it would be enough so he could speak.
“Maybe you’re right, maybe it doesn’t happen all at once, but I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do, Ellie. What if there isn’t anything? What if I’m just supposed to let it happen?” he choked on the words as his breath shuddered. He curled his fingers tighter into Elliot’s shirt, ignoring how they trembled in the effort. “I don’t want to-- I don’t want to wake up and hate the person in the mirror.”
He swallowed hard, his throat aching. He knew Elliot was doing his best to reassure him, and he felt guilty for not immediately relenting to his gentle words and kindness. He just felt… lost…
“I know my dads would try to help. I know they love me. But I can’t get the words out without feeling like--... like I’m being selfish, or ungrateful. They’ve already done so much for me. What if this is just… me not being strong enough?” Maybe he really was supposed to just accept things for how they were.
“You say I won’t disappear,” he whispered, his voice cracking again, muffled against Elliot’s shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, but more tears still spilled out. “But I already feel like I’m slipping… I don’t know how to stop it.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:37 am
Elliot’s arms wrapped around him, tighter now. “I won’t let you disappear. You’ll never slip out of my arms.” Or over the edge of a cliff.
He wished love alone was enough to chase away Atticus’ fears and doubts, to banish any hatred he might have felt for himself, but he knew the world wasn’t so simple. He couldn’t just hold him close and squeeze love into him.
“There’s always something that can be done, Atticus. I promise. Don’t lose hope. Just because we don’t know what the answers look like don’t mean that they aren’t out there. It just means we have to find them. And your dads will help. Because they love you. And they won’t think you’re selfish or ungrateful at all. This isn’t you not being strong? This is you trying to be yourself. It’s okay to want time to figure out what that means to you.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 8:37 am
Atticus pressed closer, letting himself sink fully into Elliot’s embrace. The warmth and steady heartbeat against his chest like a tether to the world he feared he was slipping away from. He sniffled, scrubbing at his tears with the palm of his hand.
“I… I know you’re right, Ellie. I know you’d never let me disappear. I just-- it scares me so much, even when I feel safe with you,” he whispered, voice shaky but earnest. He tilted his head, brushing his lips lightly against Elliot’s cheek, as if trying to imprint the reassurance there.
“You-- you mean so much to me. More than I can even say. And the way you care so much... the way you just… stay here with me--... it makes me feel like I might actually be able to survive this, even if everything else feels like it’s falling apart.”
His fingers carded through Elliot’s hair, holding him gently in gratitude this time, rather than just fear.
“I love you,” he said softly, voice cracking with both lingering distress but also relief. “I love you so much, and I-- I don’t know what I’d do without you. I just… I want you to know that, even if I still feel scared.”
He drew in a shaky breath, pressing closer, feeling the steady rise and fall of Elliot’s chest, a weight warm and protective around him.
“Thank you… for not giving up on me. For never giving up on me, in all the time you’ve known me. For letting me be scared and messy and gross and-- oh, Ellie I’m so embarrassed that I’m crying all over you like this,” he sobbed, but it was with a shaky little laugh. “I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate you. More than I can ever explain.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
