Christian (bxb)

In safe arms

(Jaxon)

I looked down at Christian, my arms wrapped tightly around him as he finally let out everything he’d been holding back.

His sobs had quieted, his breathing slowly evening out, but exhaustion was still written across his face.

He looked so vulnerable, and I couldn’t get rid of the ache that settled in my chest, knowing how much he’d been carrying on his own.

I glanced over at Greyson and Mason, who were watching him with expressions just as heavy, their shared understanding visible in the brief exchange of nods.

We all knew that Christian couldn’t stay out here, hiding from everything and everyone.

He needed to be with us, surrounded by the people who cared for him, even if he was still struggling to accept that.

Carefully, I slipped an arm under his legs, lifting him off the ground in one smooth motion.

He let out a small gasp, his arms instinctively tightening around my neck, but he didn’t try to push me away.

Instead, he settled against me, his head resting on my shoulder as he let out a long, quiet sigh.

The weight of him in my arms made my heart clench, a reminder of how fragile he felt at this moment.

Mason and Greyson walked on either side of us, each of them reaching out now and then—a reassuring squeeze on Christian’s shoulder, a gentle pat on his back, a soft word or two to let him know he wasn’t alone.

It was strange to see him like this, stripped of the guarded look he usually wore, but I knew he needed to be held, to feel grounded in the comfort only we could offer.

As we drew closer to the clearing where the party was winding down, I spotted Micah.

His eyes widened when he saw us, and he hurried over, concern written across his face as he took in Christian’s worn-out expression.

“Christian!” He called, his voice filled with worry.

When he reached us, his hands lifted uncertainly, like he was torn between wanting to reach out and not wanting to overwhelm him.

“Is he okay?” Micah’s eyes darted between me, Mason, and Greyson, trying to piece together what had happened.

Christian opened his eyes, his face tense as he took in Micah’s concerned expression.

I felt him shift slightly, and before I could react, he was wiggling out of my hold, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud.

But instead of standing alone, he took a shaky step forward and wrapped his arms around Micah, holding him tightly.

Micah returned the embrace without hesitation, his hands moving up to stroke Christian’s hair as he whispered soothing words I couldn’t quite catch.

Watching them, understanding washed over me. Micah’s presence seemed to ground Christian in a way none of us could.

It was a comfort that went beyond words—a father’s reassurance, a connection deeper than anything we could provide as his mates.

Greyson took a step forward, his voice low and calm.

“He ran from us,” He admitted, his tone holding a mixture of honesty and regret.

“We tried to talk to him, but… he wasn’t ready.” He glanced down, almost apologetically, and I could see the tension in his posture.

Micah nodded slowly, his expression softening as he gave Christian a gentle squeeze.

“I remember when I did the same thing,” He murmured, his gaze distant, as if caught in a memory.

“I remember running from Landon when I first found out he was my mate. It’s… a lot to handle.” His voice held a hint of pain, a reminder of his journey and the struggles he’d faced.

His hand moved to Christian’s neck, brushing over the skin there in a familiar gesture.

My stomach twisted as I realized what he was doing, and before I could stop myself, I tensed, a low growl rumbling in my chest.

Greyson and Mason both stiffened, their expressions hardening as they realized it too.

“We didn’t mark him!” Greyson’s voice was sharp, almost defensive. He held Micah’s gaze, his own steady and unyielding.

“We’d never force that on him.” Mason stepped forward, his tone equally firm.

“We’re not like Landon, Micah,” he said, his eyes holding a challenge.

“We respect Christian’s choices.” Micah blinked, his hand pulling back as a look of understanding crossed his face. He nodded, his features softening as he took a small step back.

“I know,” He said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“I just… I had to be sure. I couldn’t bear to see him go through that pain.” The tension in the air eased, and I let out a slow breath, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Christian’s shoulder.

“We’d never do that to him,” I said gently, my voice low but sincere.

“He’s our mate, yes, but he’s also his person. We’d never take that choice away from him.” Christian looked up at me, a mixture of relief and something I couldn’t quite place in his eyes.

He glanced over at Micah, and I could see the gratitude in his gaze, the way he drew strength from his father’s presence.

Micah reached out, brushing a thumb along Christian’s cheek in that gentle, parental way, his touch filled with nothing but love.

“You don’t have to be scared, Christian,” Micah said softly.

“Whatever choice you make, it’s yours. You don’t have to do anything because others expect it or because you think it’s what you’re supposed to want.” A faint smile broke through Christian’s weariness, small and tentative, but it was real.

“Thanks, Pop,” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His shoulders relaxed, the tension slowly melting away as he held onto Micah’s hand.

For a long moment, we stood together in silence, forming a protective circle around Christian.

It felt like a quiet promise—a shared understanding that none of us would push him, that he’d be given the space and time to figure things out for himself.

I could feel the warmth of Greyson’s hand on my shoulder and the reassuring pressure of Mason’s arm around my back, and I knew we were all on the same page.

When Christian finally looked up, his gaze swept over each of us, remaining for a moment on each face.

“I’m… I’m not sure what I want yet,” He admitted, his voice hesitant but steady.

“I just… need some time.” Mason stepped forward, offering him a gentle smile.

“Take all the time you need, Christian,” He said, his tone filled with nothing but patience.

“We’ll be here, no matter what.” Greyson reached out, resting a hand on Christian’s other shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” He added.

“We’re with you, even if it’s just to sit quietly by your side.” Christian’s smile grew a little stronger, a little more confident, and he nodded, glancing around at each of us.

“Thank you,” He whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.

Micah placed a hand on Christian’s back, guiding him gently forward.

“Come on,” He murmured.

“Let’s get you back inside. You don’t need to face this alone anymore.” We walked together, a united front, each of us ready to support Christian in whatever way he needed.

And as I glanced over at him, catching the way he leaned just slightly into Micah’s side, I felt a sense of hope—a certainty that, no matter what he chose, we’d be there, standing by his side, ready to catch him if he fell.