CHAPTER 449: CHAPTER 449: MY IDIOT

The door clicked again, but this time, it wasn’t the sound of small rebellion.

It was the quiet assurance of someone who had full clearance to walk into any room in the manor, including the one where his husband had taken shelter for the past hour with two children and a criminal level of pillow fortification.

Trevor stepped inside without knocking, as was his sacred marital right. He paused just past the threshold, taking in the sight with the kind of reverent stillness usually reserved for priceless works of art or high-level treaty negotiations. Arguably, this was both.

Lucas was slouched just enough to suggest his back hurt but not enough to risk losing ground to the enemy, Sebastian. His blonde hair was half-curled from sleep, his shirt a casualty of baby spit and lukewarm tea. One hand cradled the newborn against his chest with instinctive, terrifying gentleness. The other rested lightly on Sebastian’s back, keeping the five-year-old from launching headfirst into siblinghood like it was a blood sport.

Sebastian didn’t notice Trevor at first. He was too busy whispering important things to Dean Felix, some combination of battle strategy, snack negotiation, and the correct way to build a pillow throne without disappointing Windstone.

Trevor, meanwhile, had stopped moving entirely.

Lucas looked up, saw him, and tilted his head against one of the too many pillows.

He just gave him the look, the one that said don’t say a word, ’I’m tired,’ and ’yes, they’re both alive and I haven’t sold either of them to Windstone, be grateful.’

Trevor smiled brightly, his purple eyes shining with amusement and love. "I bring offerings," he said quietly, lifting the two mugs in his grip.

Sebastian turned, the same green as Lucas, watching him with the hopes of a child at last getting something sweet. "Is it the good cocoa?"

Trevor raised a brow, like he was offended by the comparison to most likely Windstone’s healthy recipe of cocoa. "I made it. Of course it’s the good cocoa."

Sebastian accepted this with a nod of gravitas that only five-year-olds and visiting dignitaries could pull off.

Trevor crossed the room slowly, mindful of the atmosphere. As if any loud movement might startle the baby or his mate, or worse, make Lucas stand up, which would cost them dearly in spine-related curses.

He handed the mug to Lucas first. "Still warm."

Lucas accepted it like it was a peace treaty. "You’re lucky. If you’d come in five minutes earlier, I was going to make Windstone arrest you for desertion."

Trevor blinked. "I was in a cabinet meeting."

"Desertion," Lucas repeated flatly.

Trevor crouched beside the bed, mug still in hand, one knee pressing into the carpet with the grace of a man used to kneeling for far more dangerous situations, such as trying to wake Lucas from naps without injury. "How are my generals?"

Lucas sipped the cocoa. "The younger one drooled on my chest. The elder one attempted a coup with snack bribes. I’m holding steady."

Trevor glanced at Sebastian. "And?"

Sebastian didn’t even look up. "I’m planning phase two."

Lucas gave him a sidelong look. "That’s what worries me."

Trevor smiled, then reached out carefully, his fingers brushing the tiny curve of Dean’s back. The baby didn’t stir. He was curled tight against Lucas, his face barely visible, nose pressed to the soft fabric of Lucas’s shirt.

Trevor’s voice dropped. "He looks like you."

Lucas made a face. "Puffy and sleep-deprived?"

"Perfect," Trevor said. Then added, "And you still glow. Even covered in baby drool."

"I’m going to ban you from poetic metaphors if you don’t shut up."

Trevor laughed softly. Then leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lucas’s temple, light, warm, and careful.

Lucas sighed. "You smell like government."

Trevor grinned. "I am government."

Sebastian looked up, his hair still a mess despite Lucas’ earlier attempts to tame it. "Are you gonna tell Dean that, or should I?"

Lucas took another sip of cocoa, shifting the baby slightly in his arms to adjust his weight. "You can tell him. Right after you explain taxes."

Trevor dropped his head onto the bed, beside Lucas’s thigh, and exhaled. "Let’s wait until he can crawl."

Lucas stared down at the top of his husband’s head. His fingers found Trevor’s dark hair, slow and familiar, brushing through the strands like an old habit.

They stayed like that for a moment, Lucas sitting upright, Sebastian pressed to his side like a knight in crayon armor, Dean sleeping without a care in the world, and Trevor half-kneeling, head resting against Lucas like he didn’t need thrones or offices or titles.

Lucas looked down at Dean. Then across at Sebastian. Then at the man currently breathing against his thigh like it was a goddamn devotional.

He closed his eyes.

And, for the first time since the birth, he let himself admit it.

"I love you," he said quietly.

The words hit like they always did, sudden, rare, and with the kind of gravity that made the rest of the world go still. Not because Lucas didn’t say them often, but because when he did, it was more love than the last time.

Trevor just shifted slightly, the side of his face pressing more fully into Lucas’s thigh, and let out a soft exhale that sounded too close to a prayer.

"I know," he murmured. "But thank you for saying it."

Lucas hummed under his breath, noncommittal, but his fingers stayed in Trevor’s hair, still moving, slow and quiet like he didn’t want to stop. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe, for just this second, the whole damn empire could burn and he wouldn’t care, as long as these three were here.

Sebastian leaned back against his shoulder, small but solid, his fox tucked beneath one arm and his head now resting on Lucas’s ribs.

Dean slept on, a tiny warm weight against his chest, blissfully unaware that he had upended a household, a political schedule, and at least three retirement plans with his very existence.

Trevor finally sat back, moving only enough to slide up and sit beside them on the edge of the bed. He nudged his knee against Lucas’s lightly, a silent "I’m here," and looked down at their sons.

"You’re glowing," he said again, quieter this time.

Lucas gave him a sideways glance. "Say it one more time and I’ll throw my cocoa at you."

Trevor grinned. "Still worth it."

Lucas huffed. "You really are aging into an idiot."

"But your idiot," Trevor replied, too easily.

Lucas paused. Then, softly: "Yeah. Mine."