#barrix

“Pathfinder Rix?”

Avitus glanced up at the small, quiet voice interrupting his brooding. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Brooding. Knees tucked to his chest, turning the Pathfinder badge over and over in his hands, letting the corners poke into the pads of his fingers as it reflected the light back into his eyes. His ass had long since gone numb from sitting on the hard floor of Pathfinder HQ for some indiscernible amount of time. His neck hadn’t been spared the same mercy, as he found out as soon as he’d turned his head towards Ryder. Ryder, the girl one, not her brother. Sasha? Sable? Sara.

Macen wanted to argue, he really did, but it was true that Lissa really was good at looking after Char and Macen… well he wasn’t terrible, but there was a reason why Avitus was the one to primarily look after the kids. Besides, Macen knew nothing would happen to Char in Lissa’s care. She was extremely protective of him, mostly due to the fact he was the only one in the family younger than her and she fiercely wanted to protect him because of it. “Fine, but call me if you need any help, ok?”

“I’ll call daddy if I need any help…” she countered, an innocent look on her face, but the ghost of a joking smile at her lips. She got that from Avitus too.

“Wow, thanks Lissa. I can always count on you to make me feel useful,” he chuckled, patting her on the head as he walked over to the room he had easily assumed Avitus was in by the tone of his voice.

Though Macen couldn’t blame him for his irritated tone. He knew full well that the kitchen looked like a post-apocalyptic zone. Of course, Macen didn’t need to walk in there to know that considering the fact that he was the entire cause of Avitus’s current distress.

Well, not entirely. But then, he really shouldn’t have agreed to let their youngest child try out cooking when Char hadn’t even worked out how to wash his hands without causing devastating floods to the neighbourhood.

Deciding to put on the charm, and also act completely oblivious despite knowing that both he and Avi knew exactly what happened here, Macen slid into the kitchen and drawled, “Hey, baby, what’s up?” Of course, this was too smooth and clearly put on, but Macen didn’t particularly care.

“What… happened…” Avitus asked immediately, not looking in Macen’s direction but instead at the cupboard, which had trails of marinated splattered as though they were in the middle of a crime scene.

“Ha… well… Char wanted to help me cook…” seeing Avitus’ unimpressed face, Macen darted over to the drawer where he kept the towels, ready to start cleaning up immediately should his husband demand such a thing.

“How many times…” Avitus sighed, moving over to help him out for a moment.

“Have I told you not to let the younger kids mess around with foods. Especially messy foods. Especially not Char!”

Pausing for a moment, Macen turned back to Avitus with a raised eyebrow plate.

“Is this rhetoric? Or do you want the actual number?”

“Do you… do you know the actual number?”

“Thirty five.” And a half.

“You’ve been keeping count?”

Maybe. “I just… uh… remembered all of those times.”

Avitus hit him across the arm with a towel in a playfully scolding gesture, backing away before Macen could retaliate. “Then listen to me and actually follow the rules!”

“Hey, it isn’t that bad…” Macen lied, eyebrow plates scrunching together as he did so.

Avitus obviously wasn’t buying it though. “Macen it looks worse than a war zone in here!”

Macen examined some strands of meat hanging from the blinds before he chuckled at Avitus’s accurate over exaggeration. “I mean... it could be worse.”

“Oh? It could?” Avitus’s face grew devious as he backed away from Macen slowly.

That was never a good look. That look meant Avitus was planning something. It meant that Macen was about to regret ever meeting the love of his life. “Avi… Avi what are you thinking…”

“Just in ways this could possibly be worse.” Before Macen could reply and express his confusion or sudden fear, some half-cooked meat that had been drenched in the light grey marinade sauce splattered across his face and landed in his cowl with a disappointing shlump.

Letting out a shocked hybrid of a gasp and a shriek that caused him to literally jump back, Macen quickly fished the meat out of his cowl as fast as possible and dropped it into the sink close by. “You did not just throw food at me!” he exclaimed, incredulous.

“It matches your markings, babe.”

“Avi, that isn’t funny. How’d you like it if I…” before he could finish that, some more sauce landed on him. Luckily, this was the dextro sauce, because some had landed in his mouth as he was talking and he didn’t really fancy an allergic reaction today.