"Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious." -1 Peter 3:3-4

"Physical Examination-

Chest: Clear to auscultation, percussion, and palpation

Heart: Point of maximum impulse in the midline. Regular S1 and S2. No S3 or S4 present.

Abdomen: Soft, nontender. No visceromegaly, masses, rebound, or guarding.

Neurologic exam: Alert and oriented x3. Deep tendon reflexes symmetrical. No pathologic reflexes.

Diagnoses–

Spondylolisthesis

Mild azotemia

Hyperlipidemia

Note-

Patient suited for planned neurologic procedure for his spondylolisthesis.

End of transcript."

Those familiar ending three words were pure music to the man's ears, finally prying off his headphones and sighing, prepping his transcript to be sent off to his third party employer before making its final journey off and away to the hospital that was to harbor this poor man suffering from his slipped vertebrae. Kyle let out a long hum, holding his face in his free hand as his mouse skittered about his desktop, minimizing box after box of medical terminology and reference guides trying to get to his inbox.

It was the same old story every day: Listen to doctor after doctor describing in monotonous tones just what their patients were dealing with, type and retype and fight with the spell check on his document and have a particularly muttered phrase repeated half a dozen times before he finally figured out the meaning. Kyle was always astounded by the amount of recordings that required that kind of effort, wondering how people without heightened hearing like himself could come close to deciphering their mumbled diagnoses. He had nothing but respect for those others in his line of work without his advantages, that was for damn sure.

A loud snore came from behind him with his ears free of their monotonous droning, looking back behind to him to see a large black lump sacked out on the sofa. He frowned, "Valefor, get off the damn couch!" he snapped. Valefor jerked up and practically fell onto the living room floor in shock, sitting up and shaking off his rude awakening. He glanced up guiltily at his master, trotting over to sit beside Kyle, head nearly up to the man's chest. The redhead looked down at him with a stern face. "Dude. You and Ken broke our last couch. Your fat ass can't cost me another damn sofa."

Valefor snuffed and laid his head on his lap. Kyle's scolding tone broke and he snorted at his pout, reaching up and scratching behind his ear, eyes flickering back to the glowing LED screen and clicking his tongue. "Can't afford more furniture on a transcriptionist salary, Buddy," he murmured almost to himself, continuing to scratch around his skull through his thin fur. His shoulders sank as he finally managed to send the report off to its destination, closing out of his programs and tossing his headphones onto his desk. Kyle sighed, green eyes drooping tiredly as he looked past the monitor to the wall, finding the space between his calendar and his sticky notes reminding him of particular deadlines and letting himself focus on the beige paint.

This routine was getting to him. Hell, it had been for the last four years if he was being completely honest with himself. Sitting at home alone all day until Kenny finally walked in was not where he thought he'd be when he was twenty-three and hopping into grad school as a man on a mission. But twenty-three-year-old Kyle hadn't the slightest iota of an idea of what he'd become in only one years' time. Hell, Kyle doubted he had nearly enough imagination for even the wildest of his dreams to conjure up what had since become his reality.

And that reality was cruel and unusual, something that only one other person in the entire world knew about. Something that he had to cover with the guise of just 'being stressed' or 'randomly developing social anxiety'. Whatever got him out of having to deal with the public for more than the five hours his disguising spell allowed, he supposed.

But it had carried so many more problems over with him than he'd thought it would as their lives progressed onwards and he was forced to find a way to cope far quicker than he was prepared for. Limited spell time meant tightly wound scheduling, everything in his life revolved around that block of time where his incantation would wear off. The questions became endless: Wherever they were going, did they have a bathroom he could hide in? Were there any accessible supply closets if they got caught up and lost track of time? Was his phone consistently charged so his alarm would alert him that he had his five-minute warning to run and get himself out of public view? What if he saw someone about to die from something barreling towards them or being assaulted? Would he be a monster for not preventing it when he had the ability to save them? If he was discovered, what then? Would he be captured and put through experiments? Made into a weapon? Have his own life or those of the people he loved be put into question? Become the living embodiment of proof that the devil was in fact real?

Needless to say, the quandaries never stopped. It didn't take long for Kyle to become completely bogged down from the possibilities. He'd made it nearly a year before he finally broke, only a few days after he and Kenny returned to their old apartment from their honeymoon in the Pacific Northwest. Kenny had been talking excitedly on the phone to Karen about all the trees they'd been surrounded by and all the smells that were so different from home. Kyle had agreed from the kitchen as he'd cooked dinner, let the thought of the woods and its naturally spiced aromas settle pleasantly with the memory. He had let his mind wander to asking himself whether or not Kenny smelled everything as well as he did. If he'd experienced things that Kenny could never with his humanized senses. That had developed quickly into reminding himself that that wasn't the only thing that Kenny couldn't relate to. Which dug deeper into knowing that Kenny would never have to run, would never have his humanity questioned. That he wasn't part monster.

Kyle had completely fallen apart, realizing all at once why Kenny had suggested camping in the middle of nowhere for their honeymoon. It was so no one else would see him. So Kyle didn't have to keep his watch perfectly synced with his transformation. It was all so Kyle could be himself, or rather, what had become himself. He'd just crumbled onto the floor, food abandoned and beginning to burn as Valefor had rushed over to him and barked for Kenny to realize what was happening. It'd taken Kenny two hours and three cups of coffee to calm him down and get him talking, scared out of his mind but relieved that Kyle was finally opening up about everything. Nearly a year into their newfound lives was far too long for Kyle to get to that point in the blonde's opinion, but he knew not to push the issue. Knew Kyle well enough to understand that he would have to get there on his own time.

The conclusions drawn from their nearly five hours' worth of conversation were more than difficult to say the least. Kyle finally admitted to him his issues with going back to school, how even though his professors didn't know he'd missed six months' worth of curriculum, he did. He was having so much trouble catching back up to where he needed to be, too busy with juggling his bodily situation and keeping up appearances to focus his attention solely on his degree. He'd had far too many close calls with lectures being rescheduled, final exams ending only minutes before he was set to lose his disguise. He was constantly paranoid that he'd forgotten to hide something, if he hadn't marked his eye or covered the scars on his arms or the damnable pentagram forever tattooed on his hand. Kenny had done his best to find the solution that would help him the most, suggesting a gap year to get himself settled mentally while he rubbed his back and did everything in his power to keep him from falling again. Kyle had reminded him that a year wouldn't make a difference, that he was doomed to stay in this constant struggle for the rest of his life. Scheduling classes around his issues was near impossible with the way his required courses were laid out. He'd learned early on that performing his ritual early didn't buy him extra time, there were no rollover minutes. It could only be done when the last spell had faded, his body reset to be the canvas for his blood yet again.

It had killed him and nearly literally did the same to his mother when he'd made the final call, Kenny as devastated as he was as he made the official phone call to drop out of grad school, abandon what he'd struggled so desperately to get ahold of in his undergrad years. He'd wasted well over one-hundred thousand dollars in his two years of study. His parents were enraged; Their friends were absolutely flabbergasted that Kyle of all people had become a drop-out. Kenny swore up and down they'd figure something out, get him into something again in the future. Kyle appreciated the sentiment, but just quietly asked him to come with him to bed and just let him mope for the night. He knew that this was it. He'd made the judgment that had to be made, the only one that made a lick of sense for someone in his unique situation: Hide. He'd just have to hide.

But, he did the only thing he could do about the situation: He took it as mortal Kyle would've taken it. Head-on and straightforward, he'd delved into figuring out what he could learn from online schooling, what kind of jobs he could snag working from home. He'd stumbled onto the world of medical transcriptions almost right away, looking into the program and finding himself getting the slightest bit excited with the prospect. He'd sat Kenny down with him, explaining the field and showing him some sample work from the course, Kenny staring blankly at the word thyroarytenoideus the entire time Kyle rambled, trying to pick apart the word and nodding along as he spoke. Finally, he'd turned from his confusion to see red and green eyes alit with something of curiosity and an aching for knowledge and to contribute and he had grinned, telling him to sign right the fuck up, he'd do whatever he wanted if it made him happy.

But that was over four years ago, and a lot had changed in that time. Life began to pick up at a rapid pace only a few months after Kyle had started his schooling. New things came along, like the two of them deciding it was high time to get a house-for-rent so Kyle didn't have to worry about the closeness of apartment complexes and to get themselves more room. Kenny found himself snagging a full-time promotion at the mechanic's, both of them knowing that the extra hours were absolutely necessary considering everything going on.

Life was crazy, and Kyle could always feel that ringing in the back of his mind. It was an inescapable truth, never a dull moment despite the monotony of his job and what he'd tell himself. Because that horrific fact was always hiding under the surface of his skin, teeming with toxic blood and a ferocious power that took much more effort to control than he liked to admit at times. Being a man with a short temper did him no favors, Kenny often having to grab him and keep him away from someone making a passing comment to them about their relationship, hide his glowing eyes in his shirt and yell at them himself while trying to get Kyle away from them before someone ended up being tossed across town.

The redhead sighed, looking down at Valefor as he glanced up with his own disguised eyes, blood red hidden in a sheen of rich mahogany. He smiled fondly at the creature and patted his head. "Want your bone?" he asked, Val perking up and hopping to his feet, beginning to pant in excitement, large claws thudding against the carpet as he danced in place. Kyle snorted and got up, stretching and popping his back with a long sigh. He led the dog into the kitchen, trying not to let the massive dog step on his feet as he tore open their freezer and snagged out a long ham bone from its bag, laughing at Valefor letting out breathy yips and slobbering all over the floor at it. "Don't goddamn break a tooth," he said, same as he did every time and handed it off to him. Valefor ran back into the living room with his treasure and parked himself in his favorite spot on the rug, large teeth delving into the hardened marrow. Kyle turned to the fridge and grabbed a can of soda, ears perking at the doorknob jingling.

Valefor stopped his chomping, jumping up and barking loudly at the door before a distinct, "Shut up, Val it's us!" rang through. Kyle smiled, putting his soda down and walking out of the kitchen as the door swung open, Kenny in the frame looking just too tired to deal with Valefor's shit. He smiled lazily, "Hey, Babe."

"Hey yourself," he grinned. "Where's-"

"Daddy, look!" a small voice perked from behind Kenny's legs. Kyle glanced down to a little curly headed blonde toddling her way over to him fast as her little legs could carry her. He smiled wider, reaching down and swooping her up as she ran into his arms, shoving a paper in his face.

"Whoa, whoa," he snorted, grasping it and glancing over. "What's this?"

She beamed, "Letters. I got 'em all."

Kyle glanced at the smiley sticker atop the page and kissed her forehead proudly, "Good job, Kat," he praised. "You're a better at writing your letters than Papa."

"Ha ha ha," Kenny drawled, kicking the door shut behind him and grunting as Valefor jumped up to his shoulders, listlessly patting his head and turning a bit so the large tongue hit mostly his neck. "Hello, Val. Please get down now you're heavy." He pushed the mutt to the floor and walked over to the redhead. Kyle put Kat down and let her hurry over to hug the dog as Kenny leaned down and planted a long kiss against his lips, stroking a thumb against his cheek. "And how was your day?" he murmured.

He shrugged, pecking him lightly, "Same as always. Yours?"

"Busy," he rolled his eyes, pulling back and kissing his forehead before moving to collapse lazily onto their armchair. "This lady walks in and swears up and down somethin's wrong with her damn Cavalier, right? Hears somethin' rattlin'. It was her license plate, Kyle. It was just loose. I tightened it and everything and she's like 'That can't be it you don't know what you're doing'," he mocked in a high voice. "I hate people."

"Well, that's a family trait," Kyle smirked, walking over and sitting on the couch, letting Kat clamber up next to him and smiling down at her. "How 'bout you? How was your day?"

She rolled her eyes and Kyle shook his head, seeing far too much of Kenny with that and those glittering blue eyes of hers nearly two shades darker than his husband's own. "Mrs. Pendall hates me," she whined.

"She does not hate you," Kenny groaned. "Ky, tell her that she doesn't."

He suppressed a laugh, guessing the drive home from preschool was nothing but this fun little discussion. "Why do you think she hates you?" he asked.

"Rodney had to give everyone a cookie but me!" she insisted.

"They had cashews, Ky. His mom apparently didn't read the allergy list," Kenny rubbed his temple. "I bought her a cookie on the way home but she's really mad that Rodney didn't send her into epileptic shock."

"Anaphylactic, Ken," he snorted, looking down at their daughter amusedly. "Kat, Mrs. Pendall wasn't trying to be mean, she didn't want you hurt."

Kat pouted, falling over dramatically onto Kyle's leg and staring up at him pathetically. "Everyone hates me. Ev-everyone," she emphasized.

"Knock it off," he tapped her forehead gently. "Nobody hates you." He glanced up at Kenny and raised his brow. "She gets this drama queen thing from you, I hope you know."

"Yeah well she gets her smart mouth and her whining for my attention from you," he countered with a wink.

Kyle glanced down at her again and shrugged. "No one hates you, but I think we can hate Papa."

She looked up in thought and nodded, "M'kay."

"I BOUGHT YOU A COOKIE!" Kenny protested.

"No buying her love apparently," Kyle smirked.

"Yeah, Papa," she drawled, smiling up at Kyle. She tapped his arm, "What's for… for dinner, Daddy?"

His eyes lightened with the reminder. "Oh, right. Uncle Stan called. He's on the way to take you and Alex for pizza if you wanna go." She smiled excitedly and nodded. He grinned back, "Then go change shirts," he said, tugging on her white sleeve. "You're as messy as he is when you eat," he pointed to Kenny, whose face dropped.

"Why are you both so mean to me?" he whined. Kyle snorted, whistling for Val to come over. He tore himself from his bone and hurried up to them with his stubbed tail wriggling. Kyle picked Kat up as she giggled and set her on Valefor's back.

"Mush," he said, lightly pushing him forward. Kat grabbed around his neck with a laugh as Valefor strode off towards her room.

The boys watched after her before turning to each other and Kenny grew a devious smirk. "Sendin' the kid away, huh?"

Kyle shrugged innocently, "Stan and Wendy have a coupon they wanna use. I'm just accommodating them so they can utilize their assets to the fullest potential."

"Uh huh," he cocked his brow, swinging up and out of the chair and strolling over, going deadweight and falling on top of the redhead, bringing him crashing onto the cushions with a hiss. He pinned him down and winked. "Or did you just want me all to yourself?" he purred.

He scoffed, "Not when you try crushing me, you fucktard."

"Ay," he pouted, pecking his nose. "Be nice to me. You love when I'm on top of you," he waggled his eyebrows. Kyle began to roll his eyes, stopping halfway through and just laughing, sliding his hands up to cup his face and bring him down for a kiss.

He pulled back and smiled, "Are you upset that I'm a little selfish?"

"Oh dear god no," he assured him, kissing him again. "I so rarely get you naked anymore," he bit the redhead's bottom lip. "Outside our room anyway."

"Well a three-year-old doesn't exactly need to see your naked ass," Kyle scoffed playfully. "I'd rather we didn't scar our child."

He looked down at him amusedly. "You're no fun," he teased, ducking his head down and nibbling on his neck. Kyle breathed out shakily, hand traveling the back of Kenny's neck into his hair and keeping him planted right where he was, their legs shifting to fit against one another fluidly. Kenny hummed against his skin, tongue lightly flickering out and dusting over the pale shade. "Missed you," he murmured, moving a hand down and shoving Kyle's right knee out, settling nicely between his legs.

Kyle grinned dopily, turning to nip his earlobe. "Last night wasn't enough for you?" he asked breathlessly as Kenny lightly ground down against him.

"Never is," he replied, biting his throat sharply, relishing in the hiss that seeped through Kyle's teeth and his body arching against him.

The redhead laughed, sensitive nose perking a bit. "You smell like a fucking grease monkey."

"I am a grease monkey," he reminded him. "'Sides, you love me smellin' all rugged n' manly."

"Oh yes. Nothing gets me harder than you smelling like you haven't showered for eight days," Kyle said flatly.

Kenny pulled back and cocked his brow wryly. "Want me to go shower and leave you alone?" Kyle's face fell into a pathetic pout and he smirked. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

"Daddy?" Kat's voice called from the hallway. Kenny threw himself off of Kyle, nearly falling over the opposite arm of the couch as he tried to brush back his hair and look nonchalant.

Kyle snorted and sat up, trying to will his body back down. "Yeah, Hon?"

She walked out holding a blue shirt and pouting, "Is this one okay?"

"It's fine," he said, raising his brow at her attempting to put it on. "Uh, but not backwards."

"Huh?" she blinked.

"Not… ugh, c'mere," he waved her over. She toddled to him and he bent down a bit, twisting her shirt and helping her slide her arms through the sleeves. "There ya go," he smiled. She leaned up and hugged his neck and he wrapped his arms around her stomach and brought her up onto his lap.

"Val-forrrr," she called, the dog stepping out from the hallway towards her voice. She waved him over frantically, reaching under his collar and grabbing a small hairbrush and hair-tie tucked under the thick nylon. "Daddy can you do my hair?" she asked politely.

He laughed in slight disbelief as he looked between her and the dog before nodding, grabbing the materials and letting her turn on his lap. He shot Kenny a look of astonishment and the blonde grinned with a shrug. "She gets her smarts from you, Man. Even I wouldn't think of that."

Kyle smiled warmly down at her head, starting to drag the brush through her hair. "Whatcha want?" She paused, fighting for the word before looking at him and interlocking her fingers in demonstration. "A braid?" he guessed and she nodded excitedly, turning back around and petting Valefor as he licked her hand. He shook his head, gently fighting through small knots in her wild curls and sighing, feeling Kenny shifting closer to the both of them and playing on his phone.

The men leaned their heads against one another's as they focused on their separate tasks. Kyle let himself sink into the moment, a routine that was made so much easier when surrounded by his two blondes, by his favorite people in the world. The only ones that could make him momentarily forget just what he truly was. Sometimes it felt surreal beyond comprehension, flittering back and forth between recognizing he was part demon and sitting down with his husband and daughter and watching a Disney movie, cringing and laughing at their awkward harmony as they sang along. It was a precarious balancing act, one that Kenny had helped him learn to handle throughout Kat's life and even before. Sometimes he was just going to have to step away from the two of them, let himself sit alone in his and Kenny's room and watch his left eye fade back into red, stare at the scars that would crawl back along his skin like the bark of an oak. Kenny had pushed him to realize that he had to accept it before he could do anything else, spending the months leading up to Kat's birth coaching him through it so he'd be able to care for not only a newborn, but himself as well.

Kat's thick hair danced between his fingertips, threading three strands around one another in a motion that Bebe had sat Kenny and Kyle down to teach and forced them to practice time and again. He glanced over at his husband lazily scrolling through a Reddit feed. He couldn't help the smile on his face, the loveable lug cuddled up against him the only reason he could bear to get himself out of bed some mornings, see himself in the mirror. It was always easier to see himself without his magic with someone like Kenny holding him around his waist and murmuring sleepy sweet nothings against his hair. And fixing himself up and walking out to see Kat watching TV with her shoes on the wrong feet and a wide smile just for him was never exactly a hindrance either.

He tied off the end of her hair falling down to the middle of her back, patting her head. "All righty, Ma'am, you're braided." She turned and smiled gratefully before lazily moving off Kyle's lap, nestled into the space between her fathers' sides.

"Thank you, Daddy," she murmured, blue eyes flickering around in that distracted fashion that Kyle could only hope she would grow out of unlike Kenny. She glanced up at the blonde and poked him until he turned his attention down to her wide expression. "Papa can I play on your phone?"

"Sure, Kit-Kat, lemme-" he paused at a knock on the door, Valefor jumping up again and barking.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Val, get back!" The dog growled and sat, staring intensively at the barrier as Kyle got to his feet and opened the door to a tired-looking Stan. The redhead snorted, "Man. You look like I feel."

"Adulting is the worst," he said flatly, moving his leg for Alex to come barreling inside and lop his arms around Valefor's thick neck, laughing at his tongue nearly covering his entire face. Stan shook his head slowly, "I swear to God that dog gets bigger every time I see him."

The redhead shrugged dismissively, "Maybe you're getting shorter. Osteoporosis already hittin' ya, old man?"

Stan kicked him lightly, "The best part of that is I could be so hunched over I'm parallel to the ground and I'll still be taller than you."

"Oh, so witty," Kyle mocked, looking up as Kenny fluidly slid an arm around his waist and shot the noirette a grin.

"Hear tell you're kidnappin' our kid."

Stan smirked, "Well considering how often Ky looks after Alex, it's the least we could do."

"Wendy guilt-tripped you, huh?" Kyle said knowingly, jerking a bit at a vibration in his pocket. He snagged his phone and noted the alarm, heart clenching in the slightest but trying to keep his cool. Kenny noticed the display and looked back at Stan, knowing well enough to hurry everything along.

Stan rolled his eyes, "It was my idea, Asshole… mostly. Look do you want the night free or not?"

Kenny nodded frantically, walking over and picking Kat up from her babbling conversation with Alex. "Yep. Take her. We don't want her anymore," he held her out to Stan.

Kyle scowled, "Ken."

"I'm teasing," he drawled, kissing Kat's temple. "Be good."

"I willlll," she whined, squirming in the hold and pouting at Alex laughing up at her. Kenny put her back onto the ground, her dads watching her move over and snag Stan's held out hand as Alex secured the other.

Stan shot a wink at the two of them, "I'll bring her back eventually. We may catch a movie if that's all right."

"Please do, Kyle and I have so much to catch up on," Kenny purred, getting an eye roll from the noirette.

"Why do I encourage this," he muttered, shaking his head. He tugged the kids' hands, "Come on, Guys. Say bye."

They waved frantically at them and called out their goodbyes as they tugged Stan back out the door. Kenny snorted, closing the door as they made it off the stoop, both he and Kyle watching out the window as poor Stan was dragged down towards his car. "No wonder he's already goin' grey," Kyle snorted, shaking his head at Wendy having to climb out of the passenger side to help hook the kids into their respective seats.

Ken shrugged, "That reminds me, Kat's gonna need a new booster."

He cocked his brow, "What? What happened?"

"She grew," he drawled, pinching his cheek lightly. "She's gonna be tall like Papa, you will remain my only little shorty."

Kyle rolled his eyes and flicked his nose. "Well she's gonna get taller than goddamn three feet regardless, Ken. And we don't know how tall her damn sperm donor is, she may still be shorter than me."

"Bebe doesn't go for short guys," he drawled before pausing and shrugging. "Not ones that aren't flaming homos using her for a beard anyway," he winked.

Kyle sighed and rubbed his temple, turning from the door and heading back to the kitchen, snagging his abandoned soda and hopping onto the counter as Kenny dug through the fridge. "It was over a decade ago, will you ever let it go?" he whined, popping open his tab and taking a long sip of Coke.

Kenny shook his head, yanking a Sam Adams out of the door and handing it to Kyle with a pout. Kyle scoffed, grabbing the neck and digging his thumb under the cap, snapping it off into his husband's cheek before handing him the beer. Kenny rubbed the impact point and laughed. "Kyle, it was fucking funny. I'll tell that story on my goddamn death bed."

He cocked his brow, leaning back and taking another sip. "How was it funny?"

He cackled, "You couldn't even kiss her without looking like you fucking inhaled a lemon, Babe. It was amazing." He shrugged, "'Sides, were it not for that, I may not've snagged that sweet ass of yours for myself," he reminded him. Kyle shook his head, laughing softly as they both focused on their drinks for a moment. It was true, much as Kyle hated to admit it. His inability to function with Bebe had led to him running from her house after she got too handsy one night, confused and angry and not knowing what it was that was turning him away. Stan had been with Wendy, so he'd ran through town to Kenny's house, begging him for some kind of help, to assist him in figuring out the problem. Kenny had solved the issue in one fell swoop, suggesting with a shrug that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't into girls. After a good three minutes of Kyle angrily rambling that he was sure that wasn't the problem and an impromptu kiss from the blonde to shut him up, Kyle had silently turned and walked out of Kenny's house back home. Locked himself in his room for two days staring at the wall and ignoring Kenny calling him nonstop trying to apologize.

Nearly a week had passed, Kenny tearing his hair out at fucking things up with Kyle, dealing with Stan giving him death glares, no doubt because the redhead had informed his best friend of the events that had transpired that night. It hadn't taken long for Kenny to crack, to beg Stan not to kick the ever-loving shit out of him. To admit how everything he felt for Kyle just bubbled up into a moment of impulse when he saw he had a shot. Stan had just silently nodded, turning and walking around him down the hall of the high school, leaving Kenny to beat his head against his locker for five minutes until a voice had cracked awkwardly beside him in greeting. Kyle wouldn't even look him in the face, nervously twiddling his fingers and admitting that Kenny had confirmed what he'd tried to ignore. Eventually after him just going on and on, he'd blurted out with the question of going on a date, face beaming and people around them stopping dead in their tracks to see what would happen.

Never before in Kenny's life had he been so happy. And he didn't feel such elation again until five years later, when Kyle was the one saying yes.

The reminiscing broke as Kyle let out a soft groan and cupped the side of his head. His jaw opened in discomfort, canines pushing themselves further out from his gums. Kenny watched with a heavy heart as scars began once more popping out of his skin, like the creature that Damien had planted inside of him was trying to break out. Kyle winced, eyes opening and blinking rapidly as his body tried to readjust to the stretching, left eye back to its vibrant ruby shade, standing out starkly like a beacon. The soda nearly slipped from his hands as his claws poked back into his palms and he sighed, setting the can down beside him and rubbing his eyes.

"Guess it's a good thing Stan came when he did," he commented flatly.

Kenny nodded in silence, stepping up in front of him and pushing his legs open, leaning between then and blowing fluffed red bangs away from his husband's face. "You all right?"

"Not like it hurts," he shrugged, dropping his hands, letting them fall between them and lightly play with Kenny's t-shirt. "Be pretty ridiculous if I wasn't used to it by now, ya know?" he said softly.

"But are you?"

Kyle paused, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm fine," he assured him. "Just tired… and a sick part of me wants to go back to Hell just so I can scour their damn spells for something that lasts longer," he rolled his eyes. "Wish Heaven had more than they do."

Kenny nodded in agreement. "Well, won't find many satanic spells in God's crib," he snorted. "But they have some of their little books with translations?" he shrugged. "Maybe you can snag one and make a spell."

He shook his head, "I don't really get how they work, I just know how t' do 'em. With my luck I'd make an incantation that'd make me fucking impotent and honestly, I'd rather just deal with the fangs."

Kenny laughed, leaning up and kissing him softly, tongue easily slipping between said fangs and lavishing his mouth with attention. "That would be a tragedy," he murmured, pecking him before backing off. He slid his hand up and down Kyle's thigh in a soothing, teasing motion, watching his eyes slowly beginning to smolder. "The kiddo's out," he reminded him cheekily. "You wanna order Chinese and then forget that we have it?"

Kyle chuckled, kissing his cheek and nodding softly. "Sounds good." He tapped him to back off, sliding off the counter and sighing. "Lemme just go… fix me," he gestured to himself aimlessly.

Kenny shrugged, "You don't have to if you don't want to."

He looked at him wryly. "Kenny I goddamn claw you bad enough with human nails. And I doubt you like rutting against this," he pulled up his shirt and gestured to the topographical map over his stomach.

The blonde looked at the scars before glancing back at him and frowning. "You could feel like sandpaper and I'd still rut against you until my dick fell off," he said sharply. "You hate that damn spell, you have an opportunity to forget about it for a few hours…" his shoulders dropped and he ran a hand up through his hair, putting his beer on the countertop. "Ky, if you want to deal with it, fine. But don't for my sake. I don't care," he winced. "If you claw me open, you heal me and we're back in business. We've done it before."

He crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably, "It's selfish."

"It's not," he bit. They stared at each other for a moment, long breaths breaking between them. It'd been years since they had this discussion, Kyle always using his timing to his advantage and getting Kenny into their bed before he had the chance to shift back. It'd been a long time since he hadn't performed his spell right off the bat, always far too cautious with Kat running around. "Kyle," Kenny got his attention back into focus, grabbing a clawed hand and kissing it. "Come on," he jerked his head, starting to lead Kyle out of the kitchen towards their bedroom. Kyle blinked looking down at their hands, how Kenny flawlessly avoided his claws, how the scars lining his hands didn't seem to bother him in the least as he squeezed his palm. He flickered his eyes back up towards his husband, a sad smile playing on the edge of his lips and a gratefulness he came back to time and again rearing its head as Kenny turned them into their bedroom and led him to the bed, twirling him around and starting to lead him backwards with a lingering, sweet kiss.

What he was never mattered, regardless of what he told himself with his self-depreciation. What mattered was whose he was. And he was Kenny's. Claws and all.