Lofty grinned at his dad's as he made his way into the sitting room. "So… Can I go to Brighton in three weeks?"

"You owe me £5" David laughed, rubbing his fingers at Dylan.

"What?" Lofty asked.

"David childishly bet me Max wouldn't have lost interest, though I agreed with him" Dylan sighed, jokingly shaking his head and handed a fiver across to David, "I don't mind, what's mine is yours" He smiled at his husband lovingly, before they both turned to face their son.

"Of course you can" David smiled, "Would you like one of us to come with you, or are you a big boy?"

"Big boy" Lofty replied in a little-kid's voice, laughing.

"So" Dylan gestured to the sofa beside David, "How did you two meet?"

The three of them sat and spoke for hours about Lofty's boyfriend, the hospital, and finally reached the topic of transitioning. They hadn't really discussed it in depth as a three before, and Lofty was almost nervous to do so, though he'd been wanting to for a while.

"I'm nervous" He admitted, curling his hands around the mug of hot chocolate David had brought through for him, "What if something goes wrong on the operating table, or it doesn't work with my chest and I'm left with an uneven chest? I've seen lots of articles and videos about it going wrong-"

"Ben" David interjected, allowing Lofty to take a long sip of his drink, "Dylan and I were talking last night and… would it make you more comfortable if we were to operate?"

"Wait can you really?" Lofty trailed off.

Dylan nodded, "There's a lot of paperwork involved anyway, but yeah we can. You'd need to sign a few extra forms to confirm and agree, but otherwise yeah, we can."

"Oh my word thank you!" Ben placed his cup down on the table in front of him and threw his arms around Dylan's neck, not realising as he accidentally made him slosh some tea down the front of his own shirt. Dylan winced and bore it, not wanting to have Ben apologise to him for the next week. David smiled at him, half supportively, half trying not to laugh at the expression on his husband's face as he winced into the hug.

"We want the best for you Ben" he told him, hugging back and then gently pulling away to place his cup down. "You'd need to be okay with us seeing your "female"" Dylan made quotation marks in the air, "-body though, on the operating table of course, or you'd need a surgeon you hadn't met before.

"Sure!" Lofty couldn't stop grinning as he sat back down and hugged David in turn, who was smart enough to place his cup down first. "You guys…" he choked up slightly, "You guys are the best"

"No Ben, that's you" David whispered into his ear, and Lofty pulled him closer as Dylan watched, smiling and wiping tea from the arm of the chair.

Two weeks later, the three of them sat around the table in the kitchen, working through folders of paperwork and talking softly as they concentrated. Lofty put down his pen. David and Dylan looked up at him simultaneously.

"I-I don't think…"

"What is it Ben?" Dylan asked, also placing his pen down, while David stuck his in his hair, behind his glasses.

"Is it okay to wait?"

"Of course it is, why?"

"I just…"

"You can tell us Ben"

"I don't think I'm ready yet" He muttered under his breath, running his hands through his curls and shutting his eyes. Before either of his Dad's had the chance to reply, a loud beeping sound came from David's pocket and he shoved his glasses back up onto his head, knocking the pen to the floor.

"Oh God! I forgot I'm on-call tonight!" David stood and ran to the front door, calling his good-byes as he grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him.

The sudden movement and noise was too much for Lofty and he felt his palms begin to sweat with the fear of the truth. He stood suddenly, backing away from Dylan and through the second door into the sitting room, palms outstretched in front of him in defence.

"Ben? I promise I'm not going to hurt you…" Dylan kept his voice stable, and held his palms spread wide to show his son he wasn't going to hurt him.

"I don't…" Lofty choked, bumping into the sofa, yet his eyes were trained directly into Dylan's – or perhaps through, Dylan thought; He seemed as though he didn't know where he was. "I don't want…"

"You know you can tell me anything, love" Dylan pushed, wincing as his son tensed; he didn't ever want his son to have to feel pain.

"I-it's" Lofty took a breath, and Dylan stepped backwards a little to allow his son some space, "I d-don't want you and David to see the m-marks" with those final nine words, Lofty broke down, falling forwards, his breaths sharp.

"I've got you my boy" Dylan stumbled over his words as his son fell against him, sobs wracking his body.

"I can't Dylan. I can't keep this up; a-all this sh-shitty pretending a-all the ti-me" Lofty choked and coughed, tears pouring down his face as he gripped his father's shirt, knuckles turning white in anguish and pain.

Dylan gently dropped to his knees, pulling Lofty down with him, and cradling his head, pressing a gentle kiss into his son's curls. "It's okay, it's okay" he whispered, rubbing small circles on his back soothingly.

"I-it's not" Lofty sobbed, pressing his face into the crook of Dylan's neck, but not loosening his grip on his shirt. "Wh-why was it okay for her to do that to me?"

"It wasn't okay. It was never okay for her - or anyone - to hurt you. Especially not in the way she did."

"B-but why did she do it i-if it wasn't okay?"

Dylan held Lofty closer than before, gently bringing two fingers to his neck to count the pulse of the trembling, panicking boy. "I don't know Ben darling, but I-I can promise she'll never lay another finger on you again."

Lofty gasped inwardly and gagged, and Dylan swallowed, hauling the trembling boy to his feet and manoeuvring him quickly in the direction of the bathroom, speeding as he retched again. "Here. Kneel" Dylan pressed down on his son's shoulders gently, so his head was in line with the toilet bowl, and pulled back his fringe as Lofty vomited. "You're okay" Dylan whispered, wiping his son's forehead with a cool flannel. "You just panicked, you're okay…"

"'M sorry" Lofty whimpered, scrambling desperately back against the wall, his face pale. "I'm so sorry".

"Ben darling, breathe"

"S-so-"

"Don't apologise Ben, never apologise for panicking"

Lofty nodded silently, his head nodding forwards against his legs, knees up against his chest.

"I however" Dylan began, "Should apologise for pulling you like that. I promise I'll never grab your shirt again"

"It's okay Dad…" Lofty mumbled, his eyes blinking shut.

"Wait...what?"

"I'm sorry" Lofty looked down, clenching his fists, his eyes wide open now, "I thought it was okay for me to call you that?!"

"Of course it is Ben love, I've been waiting for you to call me Dad since the day I adopted you…"

"Why didn't you tell me to?"

"Because" Dylan sat up against the wall, beside Lofty and put his arm around the huddled boy, "I'm never going to rush you into anything - especially not trust. Trust doesn't appear, it grows"

Lofty's head nodded with exhaustion again and Dylan helped him to his feet, guiding him down the hallway and back into the lounge. Seating his son on the sofa, Dylan got back up and peeled the plastic off the Bambi disc, placing it into the player, and sitting back down beside him again, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as Lofty curled into him, resting his head on his chest.

"Thank you Dad…"

"I love you Ben" Dylan muttered, pulling his son closer. Ben listened to Dylan's heartbeat, and Dylan felt his son's body slacken against him slightly, "Get some rest darling"

"I love you too Dad" Ben allowed himself to slip heavily into sleep, as Dylan held him close, soothed by the pattern of his breathing, only leaving his son to rest on the sofa alone when the videotape clicked out of the player. He turned and placed a heavy blanket over Lofty's body, deciding it would be okay to leave him on the sofa for the night, though he left the fairy lights Lofty had insisted on still glowing around the fireplace, as he headed off to his own room, leaving his door cracked open slightly, just in case Ben called out in the night.

When he reached his own room, he remembered his laptop left abandoned in the kitchen and went to switch it off, glancing at the clock. 2am. Will was doing an emergency therapy nightshift at the hospital tonight, and he should be on his break by now. His phone lay on the surface across from the table.

It only took a few seconds for Dylan to decide what to do.

Dylan: Will?

Will: You ok?

Dylan: Ben says surgery is all-go… Can you book him into theater on your next break?

Will: Sure! Tell him I'm proud, and he's gonna rock it!

Dylan: Will do. Thanks xx

Will: Np. Break over now. Get some sleep. Work tomorrow xx

Dylan shook his head fondly at the last message and watched as the screen faded to black, before putting his phone on charge and heading back to his room, checking on Lofty on the way. He lay peacefully, Dervla at his feet, guarding him.

"Goodnight Ben" Dylan whispered into the silence.

He only paused for thought when he got to his own room, looking at David's pyjamas folded neatly on top of the pillow on his side of the bed. David may never forgive him for what he'd just done… And Ben may never either – Just, what if the best thing to do all along was to rush into it? Get it over with and he won't have to think about it anymore, Dylan thought, though he knew deep down it was wrong.

He slept fitfully that night.