The silence that followed their declarations was warm—strangely warm, like the kitchen itself had curled in closer to listen.
Satoshi inhaled slowly and spoke without quite looking at either of them. "You know… I've always said I'm bisexual, but..."
He hesitated, swirling the tea in his mug.
"It's mostly because I've found a few guys attractive before. Feminine-looking ones, mostly. Guys who… looked kind of soft, I guess. I never really tried anything serious. A couple of kisses here and there. But I've never…" His voice trailed off and sighed. "I guess I'm more bi-curious than actually bisexual."
He expected discomfort. Or maybe a shift in tone. Something to break the fragile honesty he'd just laid out. But instead Shirou shrugged. "Then we work with that."
Ashwatthama nodded, just as unbothered. "Takes time to explore something new. We're not rushing you."
That shocked him more than the declarations.
Satoshi looked up to find them still watching him—not expectant, not smug. Just… there.
His chest squeezed. At least it did until Ashwatthama tilted his head, suddenly serious. "But one thing."
Shirou's eyes narrowed slightly in agreement. "No summoning females or feminine looking people."
Satoshi blinked. "Excuse me?"
Ashwatthama didn't flinch. "No girly-looking people. You're already overwhelmed with us."
Shirou crossed his arms. "You said yourself you have a weakness for feminine faces. We're not taking chances."
"…Are you seriously worried about competition?"
"Yes," they said at the same time.
Satoshi stared, then burst out laughing—full-body, breath-stealing laughter.
"Oh my god," he wheezed, leaning against the counter. "You two are ridiculous."
Ashwatthama shrugged. "Just for you."
Shirou didn't even pretend to disagree.
Still laughing, Satoshi rubbed his face and muttered, "I am so screwed."
Ashwatthama's lips twitched into a grin. "Not yet."
"Ashwatthama!"
Even Shirou groaned. "Please, control yourself."
"No promises."
The air changed around them after they teased Satoshi. It was warmer now, more comfortable.
Ashwatthama leaned forward just slightly, eyes on him—not predatory, but open, honest. "So… does this mean we can kiss you whenever now?"
Satoshi narrowed his eyes. "This time not for 'practice'?"
Ashwatthama's lips curled into a familiar, maddening grin. "If you want, we can still call it practice."
"Don't," Shirou said flatly, though he didn't move from his position at the counter. He was watching, though—waiting for Satoshi's answer.
Satoshi gave a small shrug, eyes down for a beat. "I mean… I don't mind, really. Riley seems happier when we're… affectionate."
Shirou's voice was gentler this time. "But do you want it?"
Satoshi looked up and hesitated—then nodded. "I'm not… against it."
Ashwatthama stepped in like a tide, deliberate but slow, reaching for him. "Then—this?"
He pressed a soft kiss to Satoshi's lips. A peck. Barely there.
Satoshi inhaled through his nose, breath shuddery. "Yeah. Sure."
Ashwatthama tilted his head and leaned in again, slower this time—longer. Still closed-mouth, but this one carried weight. Intention. Warmth. When he pulled back, Satoshi was flushed and blinking fast. "This?" Ashwatthama asked again, quiet, but smug.
Satoshi nodded, dazed. "Y-yeah."
Then Ashwatthama kissed him again—deeper now, with a hint of tongue brushing along the seam of Satoshi's lips, testing. Tasting.
Satoshi gasped softly into it before pulling back with wide eyes, breathing faster. "Maybe not like this in front of Riley," he managed, voice weak but not unamused.
Ashwatthama grinned, all teeth and triumph. "So when she's not looking?"
Before Satoshi could retort, Shirou stepped in, slipping behind him and sliding one hand gently to his waist. "My turn," he murmured, and before Satoshi could protest, he leaned in. Shirou's kiss was nothing like Ashwatthama's—it was slower, gentler, but somehow heavier. Possessive in its own quiet way. No tongue, just warmth, firmness, and the press of lips like a claim long overdue.
Satoshi swayed slightly, blinking as they pulled away. "You two are going to kill me."
Shirou's mouth twitched into a satisfied line. "We'll take turns."
And then—
"Dad~!" came the telltale singsong of tiny feet padding rapidly down the hall.
All three froze.
Ashwatthama straightened and took two steps back. Shirou grabbed the nearest spoon and started stirring an empty mug like he'd been doing it all morning.
Satoshi slapped his cheeks and forced the blush down, just as Riley entered the kitchen with Ralts floating beside her.
"Morning!" she chirped.
"Morning," Satoshi echoed, voice just slightly high-pitched.
Ashwatthama leaned in, stage-whispering near Shirou's ear, "That was definitely not practice."
Satoshi threw a kitchen towel at him.
.
The scent of pancakes mingled with the soft crackle of toast popping up and Ralts humming in contentment on the table. Morning light streamed in through the window, catching Riley's pale hair where she sat cross-legged on the chair beside Satoshi, spooning a piece of pancake into her mouth with quiet focus.
Satoshi watched her, pleased at how normal this felt. Shirou passed her another pancake. Ashwatthama brought over another bowl with cut strawberries. No one commented on the way they moved around each other now—synchronized, wordless.
Like a family.
When everyone was seated, Satoshi cleared his throat. "So… we'll probably be moving soon."
Riley paused mid-bite. "Already?"
Shirou nodded, lifting his tea. "We've been looking at places in Brockton Bay. Dragon's already sent some recommendations."
Ashwatthama added, "Places near safe zones. High security, and enough space for everyone. Even a small garden."
Satoshi smiled at Riley, reaching out to lightly brush her hair back. "There's a school there called Arcadia. One of the best in the region. If you'd like, we can enroll you."
She blinked. "Even with… everything I've done?"
"Riley," Satoshi said softly. "You're trying. You're getting better every day. That matters more than anything else."
She looked down at her bowl, chewing slower.
"You don't have to go if you're not ready," Shirou added. "But it'll help. A fresh start."
Ralts made a soft chiming noise beside her, nudging her gently with her horn.
"And," Satoshi continued, watching her carefully, "if you want to tinker again… the Wards may be a good option. They let young heroes work with Protectorate support. You could have a lab. Real tools. Support. Guidance."
He saw her eyes light up—then dim slightly.
"But only if I join the Wards?" she asked quietly.
"You wouldn't have to fight," Ashwatthama said bluntly. "We wouldn't let them make you."
"They can't force you into combat," Shirou agreed. "It's about learning. Support. Proving that you want to use your skills for people, not against them."
Satoshi reached for her hand. "You're good at building things, Riley. That hasn't changed. But maybe… this time, you get to decide why and what you build."
There was a long pause. Then, slowly, Riley nodded.
"Okay," she said quietly. "I'll think about it."
They didn't press. Instead, they let her eat in peace—Ralts offering little sparkles of warmth and Shirou brushing his knee gently against Satoshi's under the table. Ashwatthama leaned back in his seat and said, "If we do move, I'm not carrying the bookshelf. Your cookbooks weigh more than I do."
Satoshi laughed. Riley giggled.
The tension eased—just a little.
.
The house was quieter than usual—no humming from Ralts, no rapid-fire tinkering questions from Riley. Just the low creak of cardboard boxes being sealed and the occasional thunk of another one being stacked in the hallway.
Shirou knelt beside a box labeled "Kitchen – Extras," carefully arranging utensils in padded wrap. Across from him, Ashwatthama was holding two cast iron pans, weighing which would be more painful to carry in a hurry.
"They multiply," he muttered. "I swear. Every drawer I open, there's another pan."
"You're just grumpy because the last one nearly broke your toe," Shirou replied, not even glancing up.
Ashwatthama grunted. "Only because you said we didn't need steel-toed boots for packing."
"You don't," Shirou said, taping a box shut with quiet efficiency.
Before the verbal sparring could escalate into another cookware duel, the front door clicked open.
"Hello?" came Anna's familiar voice.
They both looked up. The social worker stepped in and blinked at the half-packed living room, the neat rows of labeled boxes, the dining table cleared except for the labeled binder that sat atop it—Move Plans: Brockton Bay.
Anna arched a brow, amused. "You three are really doing it, huh?"
Shirou nodded, standing and brushing his hands clean. "Satoshi and Riley are out checking realtors now. We're preparing the non-essentials."
Anna glanced around approvingly. "Looks organized."
"We're good at systems," Ashwatthama muttered, folding the top of another box.
"I see that," Anna replied with a small smile, stepping deeper inside. "Well, I won't take too long. I just came to give you the update."
She held out a neatly folded document from her bag and Shirou accepted it and opened it without comment.
"The final step for Riley's adoption is in motion. No red flags. Her psychological assessments have come back strong. She's stable, thanks to your care. You're going to get a formal confirmation by next week."
Ashwatthama froze mid-tape.
Shirou looked up from the document. "So it's official."
Anna nodded. "As close as it gets."
Then, she smiled a little softer, glancing around again. "Once you move to Brockton Bay, you'll be assigned a local worker. Just monthly visits to check how things are going. Nothing invasive. Honestly, I doubt they'll need more than that, based on how she's doing."
Ashwatthama straightened. "That's it?"
Anna nodded. "That's it."
A rare silence followed. Then Shirou exhaled, quiet and deep.
Ashwatthama looked to the side, his jaw relaxing a little.
"Tell Satoshi when he gets back," Anna said. "And give Riley a hug for me. She deserves this."
"Yeah," Shirou murmured. "She really does."
.
The door closed with a soft click, and Satoshi exhaled. His shoulders drooped, but this time it wasn't exhaustion—it was relief.
"We're home!" he called.
Ralts chirped from her perch on Riley's shoulder.
"We saw a really big house!" Riley added, kicking off her shoes with a happy hop. "It even had a room with skylights. Like a lab!"
Ashwatthama appeared from the hallway, a towel slung over one shoulder. "So, everything decided?"
"Not really," Satoshi groaned, rubbing his neck. "We have less options now that we have narrowed them, though we have to go and visit them once we're in Brockton Bay."
"But I liked the second one," Riley chirped. "The backyard had a tree big enough to climb."
"And space for herbs," Satoshi added. "I'm seriously considering that one."
Before any more discussion could spark, Shirou emerged from the kitchen with a faint smile. "You're just in time. Anna came by."
Satoshi blinked. "What? Did something happen?"
Shirou held out a folded piece of paper. "Final step. It's happening."
He read it once, then again. The world tilted just slightly.
Approved.
Riley's adoption—finalized.
It wasn't just paperwork anymore. It was real.
"We can stay a family?" Riley asked, unsure, like she'd misunderstood.
"You're stuck with us now," Ashwatthama said, ruffling her hair with a rare softness.
Satoshi smiled so hard his cheeks ached. "Let's celebrate."
.
The living room turned into a nest of blankets and couch cushions. They ran an old animated movie Riley loved, then a newer one with giant robots. Popcorn bowls scattered the table. At some point, Ralts curled on Shirou's lap, fast asleep, and Riley leaned against Ashwatthama's shoulder, barely blinking as her eyes drooped.
She fell asleep twenty minutes into the third movie, mid-laugh.
Satoshi kissed the top of her head as Ashwatthama carried her gently to bed. Shirou followed with Ralts, who yawned loud enough to make even Ashwatthama snort quietly.
They returned in silence, the house dim and peaceful.
Once in their room, Satoshi changed slowly into his pajamas. The warmth of the day lingered in his limbs, but so did a fragile weight at the edge of his chest—like the echo of something he'd been carrying for too long without realizing.
He slid under the covers. A second passed. Then another. And then… a tear slipped free.
He sniffled, wiping it quickly, annoyed at himself—except he wasn't sad. He was happy. Overwhelmingly, achingly happy.
A hand brushed against his shoulder. Then another hand joined it—rougher, broader.
Shirou. Ashwatthama.
Neither said anything. They simply lay beside him, pulling him in wordlessly. One to his back, one to his chest.
Safe. Anchored.
"You're allowed to cry," Shirou murmured near his ear.
"Just don't make it a habit," Ashwatthama added gruffly—but his hand rubbed slow circles on the back of Satoshi's neck.
"I just…" Satoshi's voice cracked. "I never thought we'd manage to obtain it so easily, so quickly. Any of this."
"You were great," Shirou said. "It was going to happen eventually."
Ashwatthama pressed him closer. "And we're not going anywhere, so stop worrying."
Pressed between warmth and quiet strength, Satoshi let himself cry again—but this time with no shame.
Tomorrow they'd house hunt again. Tonight, Satoshi lay between two impossible men, tangled in the hush of a house that—for once—felt like it had stopped holding its breath.
"You're quiet," Ashwatthama said after a couple minutes of silence had passed between them.
Satoshi smiled softly. "Just thinking. It's just... I'm so happy," Satoshi whispered. "I don't feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore."
Shirou tilted his head slightly to nuzzle his neck, his touch softer than usual.
Ashwatthama watched him with quiet intensity, unreadable. "You earned it," he said.
"No," Satoshi said firmly. "We did."
And then—because the feeling swelled too much to hold in his chest—he turned and kissed Shirou. Soft and slow. Honest. Shirou responded instantly, cupping his face like something precious. When they parted, Satoshi turned, hesitating only briefly before kissing Ashwatthama too—rougher, less certain, but just as sincere.
Ashwatthama stilled at first, then kissed him back with startling gentleness. When it ended, his hand lingered at Satoshi's waist.
For a moment, no one moved. Then Shirou kissed behind Satoshi's ear. Ashwatthama kissed the curve of his throat.
Satoshi gasped already knowing what this was leading to when their hands started to go under his shirt. "Wait. Wait, I—"
But neither of them pushed. Not really.
Shirou's hands trailed lower, brushing fabric but not removing it.
Ashwatthama nosed at the hollow of Satoshi's collarbone like he was grounding himself.
"We're not rushing," Shirou murmured.
"You set the pace," Ashwatthama added.
Satoshi's breath trembled. His hands were trembling too. But not from fear. Not from confusion. From something warmer.
"I… I'm not ready to go all the way," he admitted.
"Okay," they both said—at once.
That made him laugh. "You really don't care?"
"I'd wait forever," Shirou said simply.
"I'm not that patient," Ashwatthama added, smirking. "But for you? I'll learn."
Satoshi hid his face in his hands. "I'm so screwed."
"No," Shirou said gently, pulling his hand down. "You're loved."
Ashwatthama kissed his temple, low and steady. "Let us just show you."
Satoshi breathed out, his cheeks were flushed, his breath a little fast—but not from fear. He was caught between them again, but this time, he wasn't just passive. His hands gripped Ashwatthama's arms as he kissed him again—slowly, with a tenderness that made his heart ache more than anything else.
.
.
Comments give me motivation (and powerstones ignite me)!
Also, if you want to support me and read chapters ahead, go to my p@treon: JorieDS