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Courtney has a new Skitty.
Archie doesn’t mind it. He likes that the kiddos are diversifying which types of Pokémon they train, and while he doesn’t mention it to Maxie, it’s beginning to sound more and more like Courtney too is wanting to start a Pokémon journey of her own.
The problem is that the Skitty likes Maxie way more than he likes her. She spends most of her time napping in the sun, but every so often she’ll take it upon herself to pester Maxie. Following him from room to room, trying to curl up in his lap, meowing until he acknowledges her. More than once, Archie’s caught her trying to nuzzle under the blankets with him.
She’s a silent predator, meaning that Courtney has had to equip her with a bell collar. So as soon as Archie hears the telltale jingle heading their direction, he knows just what kind of trouble they’re in for.
She headbutts the door to their bedroom open, making a jingling path straight for the bed. She gives a mrrp before launching herself up onto Maxie’s lap, if his sigh of annoyance is anything to go by.
“Shoo.”
Archie doesn’t even have to glance over to know what’s happening. He’d join in if he didn’t have a backlog of paperwork. Like her owner, Pecha isn’t the fondest of him, and even more like her owner, she isn’t one for sharing. “No harm in letting her stay a while, is there?”
And now the glare is being leveled at him. He can feel it burning a hole in the side of his head. “If you’re so fond of her, how about she walks all over your laptop for the next ten minutes?”
True to his complaints, Pecha is settled directly on his keyboard, pointedly ignoring Maxie’s attempts to nudge her off.
Well aware of the glare he’s going to get, Archie snickers. To think all he’d needed to overthrow Team Magma was one overly affectionate Skitty.
“With all that red, she must think you’re her mama!”
Maxie scowls and, with a sigh, removes Pecha from his laptop. Of course, the second he puts her down, she just jumps right back into his lap, but at least he has a few moments of reprieve before she’s back to disrupting his work.
“Must we do this all evening?” he mutters. He removes her again, only for her to climb right back up. With the way she mewls, it’s almost like they’re forming a game out of it.
Archie shakes his head, fighting back more laughter. He’d probably have better success if he just ignored her, but Maxie’s a champ at worsening his own problems. Archie turns back to his work, but it’s hard to focus with the comedy skit going on behind him.
“Archie,” Maxie whines in a distinctly childlike voice. “Make her go away.”
“Alright, Pecha, I think you’ve bothered the lad enough for one day.” Archie scoops Pecha off of Maxie’s lap, ignoring her mewls of protest.
Maxie makes a disgruntled noise at that. “I’m not small.”
“I think you are.” Archie drops Pecha in the hall, sure to shut the door behind him. She has a talent for getting into places she’s not supposed to, but if she can turn a doorknob or not is yet to be seen.
Maxie’s frown deepens, his face blazing. “I’m not.”
Archie grins, nodding along. He won’t get anywhere arguing against a toddler. “Sure, sure. The biggest boy there ever was.”
But Maxie doesn’t like this answer either, well aware that he’s being teased. The pout on his face speaks volumes.
Archie eases onto the edge of the bed, ghosting the back of his hand over Maxie’s cheek. The way Maxie melts into the touch tells him what he already knows.
“You’re already there, lad.” With Maxie’s attention diverted, Archie takes the opportunity to close Maxie’s laptop. “Let me take care of you.”
Maxie whines, burying his face in Archie’s shoulder.
“I know. I know it’s hard. Just for tonight, eh? A little wind down time for my little first mate?”
“Pecha’s fault…”
“Mean little Skitty, ain’t she? Should we put her in timeout?”
Maxie removes his face from Archie’s shoulder, just so he can make a show of rolling his eyes.
“You’re right. She wouldn’t sit still for that.” Archie opens his arms, a silent offer for Maxie to accept or refuse as he wishes.
Maxie scoots over, closing the meager space between them. He doesn’t have the courage to climb into Archie’s lap just yet, but having him so close is a relief in itself.
“I’m not that small,” Maxie corrects, since his previous lie holds no water.
“’Course not.” Archie runs a hand through his hair. “But small enough for me to fuss over.”
“If that’s what you want…”
Archie chuckles. “Max, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise!”
And since Maxie has no other way to argue, he folds himself into Archie’s shoulder and closes his eyes.
Slowly but surely, Archie sees more and more of Pecha.
All weekend, she’s on Maxie’s heels, and when Archie visits throughout the rest of the week, she’s never far away. In fact, he sees more of Pecha than he does of Courtney, not that that’s hard. Courtney likes to make herself scarce when Archie’s around, despite his attempts to prompt her out of her shell.
As the day closes out, Max heads to bed, and Archie does one lap around the base just to be safe. By the time he makes it back to their bedroom, Maxie is dozing, with Pecha curled up snugly against his face.
Archie gives his shoulder a little squeeze. “Coming in starboard, sailor.”
Maxie cracks an eye open, his frown deepening. “Not small.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” Archie climbs into bed, throwing an arm over Maxie’s waist.
Trapped between Archie and a Skitty, there isn’t much for him to do but accept the cuddles.
Of course, Archie won’t complain about getting cozied up together, but for Maxie to drop so suddenly is a cause for concern, especially for someone who normally struggles to regress. Maxie hadn’t gone to sleep small, nor did anything trigger him to be small.
…Unless of course, one accounted for overly affectionate Skitties.
Maybe it is Pecha’s fault.
Archie has a theory.
He’s been steadily gathering evidence over the past week, just to make extra, extra sure that he isn’t jumping to conclusions, and only now is he absolutely sure. And so, he’s formed a plan. All he has to do is wait for Pecha to make her move.
In the meantime, they’re whittling away the evening hours in the common room, an achievement that Archie is especially proud of.
It may not seem like much, but just being a little more accessible to team members goes a long way. Maxie already has his team’s respect; what he needs is their companionship.
They’re curled up on one of the smaller couches, the TV playing in the background. Archie’s half-paying attention, but Maxie’s got his nose buried in a book. He probably can’t even process what he’s reading with all the chatter, but it’s about keeping up appearances, not about entertainment.
Archie reaches out, absently placing his hand on Maxie’s knee. There’s a pause, a quiet exhale of amusement, and then Maxie’s hand folds over his.
The one thing he’s come to appreciate is the quiet company. That he and Maxie don’t have to talk, that they can just be in one another’s vicinity and have that be enough. He’s gone too long without to find the silent companionship anything but comforting.
However, it isn’t long before a certain little Skitty finds them regardless. She’s already gotten better at moving with the collar, because Archie doesn’t even hear her until she’s jumping straight into Maxie’s lap.
Maxie, of course, scowls. “Shoo.”
Archie’s never been one to pass up a perfect opportunity. He sweeps in like a knight in shining armor, rescuing Maxie from the pesky Skitty.
“Go on back to the bedroom,” Archie says. He holds Pecha to his chest, ignoring her attempts to squirm out of his grasp. “I’ll take care of dinner.”
Maxie’s brow furrows. “Are you sure?”
“’Course. Don’t think you’d get much done with this one trying to climb onto the counter anyway.” What Archie doesn’t mention is that Maxie’s role in kitchen duty mostly amounts to supervising. It’s not the time to get his sailor all riled up.
Maxie rises out of his seat. It must be bad, if he’s willing to give up control, no matter how meager. “If you’re certain…”
“I’ll bring you back a plate,” Archie promises.
“Well. Thank you, then.”
A few grunts bid him goodnight, the warmth in their voices enough to give him pause. Archie doesn’t miss that subtle lurch, the hint of unsteadiness as he returns their kind words.
All through dinner, Archie’s mind isn’t on cooking. Luckily, the Magma team is extremely self-sufficient, and while they let him lend a hand, he gets the feeling it’s more “appeasing Leader Maxie’s new boyfriend” than it is them actually needing his help.
And as promised, he sets aside a plate for Maxie, though he leaves it in the fridge. If his assumptions are correct, then Maxie’s probably won’t want to eat right away.
When Archie returns to their bedroom, Maxie’s already in his sleepwear and curled up in bed. Pecha has draped herself over his shins, dozing. Archie’s arrival rouses her, but that only kickstarts a fresh round of purring.
Maxie doesn’t look up from his book. “Finished with dinner already?”
“It wasn’t that hard.” With a sigh, Archie flops onto the bed. “Come here.”
He doesn’t wait for the go ahead, just pulls Maxie right up against his chest. The weight shushes the worries in the back of his mind, and he can’t resist peppering Maxie’s face with kisses as thanks.
Maxie chuckles, leaning into each touch. “Well, you’re certainly affectionate tonight.”
“Is that a problem?” His voice is teasing as he loosens his hold, leaving Maxie comfortably curled against his shoulder.
Maxie scoffs, lifting his head to drop a kiss of his own on Archie’s cheek. “Of course not.”
“Good, because you aren’t getting much of a choice. I just love ya too much!” He blows a raspberry against Maxie’s cheek, heart soaring when Maxie shrieks with laughter. “My little sailor.”
The effect is immediate. Maxie goes from utterly relaxed to sitting on pins and needles, and though he hasn’t moved out of Archie’s grasp yet, the way he’s holding himself says it’s only a matter of time. “Archie, stop, I’m not…”
“Pecha sold you out.”
Maxie’s face burns. “Wha?”
“Whenever you’re feeling small. She only bothers you then. Herding you to bed, trying to keep you warm. It’s a dead giveaway once you know to look for it.”
Maxie freezes, knowing he’s been caught.
“Why didn’t you tell me, lad?”
“I just… wasn’t in the mood to be fussed over is all.” Maxie blushes deeper, as if he doesn’t even have the commitment to believe his own lie.
“And the truth?”
“That is the truth!”
“You’ve been lying to me all week.” And because he can’t help himself, Archie blurts out, “Do you not want me caring for you anymore? If you like it better on your own, I don’t mind. Just tell me and I’ll give you the space.”
“What? No! Where did you—” Maxie cuts himself off. “I just don’t want to put so much on you.”
“You’re not putting anything on me. I make the choice to watch out for you. No one else. Me.”
Maxie lowers his eyes, staring holes into the floor. For all his previous bravado, he’s left with nothing to say.
“Let me in, Max.” He’s begging, but he has no idea what else to do. “Don’t you get lonely with those walls up so high?”
A gaping silence. “I’m sorry.”
Archie pauses for a second. Maxie’s not one for empty apologies, making it just another red flag in a steady parade. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong.” The final part of that sentence, with me, remains unsaid.
“Hey, shh.” Archie hesitates, caught between addressing what Maxie actually said or the unspoken addendum. Is something wrong? Yes, of course. They wouldn’t be having this conversation if it wasn’t. Is something wrong with Maxie? Arceus, absolutely not.
Archie wishes there was some way he could help. He's not a mind-reader, though sometimes he really wishes he was. It would make decoding Maxie’s signals, the silent half-disguised cries for help, a lot easier.
Miffed at the silence, Pecha meows, pawing insistently at Maxie’s hand. His arms are folded tightly over his chest, a meager form of defense when his feelings have been stripped bare.
“Let me take care of her,” Archie sighs. It’s hard to have this conversation with Pecha trying to worm her way between them.
Even so much as turning away feels like a relief. Like that alone can snap the building tension.
It’s always been easier for them to just ignore their fights. It’s a cycle. Bicker, cross a line, pretend it never happened. And moments like this only remind him why. These talks suck.
He drops Pecha outside, ignoring her mrrp of protest and insistent pawing at the door. She’ll have to give up eventually, right? She got her stubbornness from Maxie, but even they get tired at some point. And in the meantime, he and Maxie have to finish their talk.
Maxie’s hands are clasped in his lap, his head turned to the side. Whatever patterns he’s finding in the carpet must be rather interesting, because he won’t meet Archie’s gaze at all.
Archie creeps closer, moving slow so as not to startle. He can’t say he gets it, but seeing Maxie now, he can at least pinpoint where those fears are stemming from. He slides into the empty space, careful not to creak the mattress.
“It’s hard to fall, huh? Hard to ask for things when there’s a chance they’ll say no?”
Maxie doesn’t turn his head, but he nods. His eyelids sink lower, a poor attempt at hiding how his eyes are burning with tears. “One day it’s going to be too much.”
“And we’ll deal with that when the day comes,” Archie replies, but the truth is already staring him in the face.
That’s a risk, an inevitability to fret over. But that day can never come if Maxie doesn’t let him close enough in the first place. Classic fear of intimacy.
“Max, I can’t chase you forever. You know that, right?” Archie pushes a hand through Maxie’s hair, hoping to sand down the sharper points of his sentence. “At some point, I’m going to need a sign you want me around too.”
“Of course I do. You know I do. You’re my…” Maxie trails off, just shy of the word everything. But that’s a big promise, one they’re both too afraid will get broken. “You mean so much to me.”
He pauses, the conflict clear as he comes to the same conclusion Archie has. Then why don’t you show it? And for that, he has no answer. For Maxie, that must feel like a given.
“Just tell me what you want me to do,” Maxie says, and it’s that confession that transitions Archie from a dull hurt to a growing fear.
It’s giving up control, tinged with desperation. Maxie’s never one to take orders, but now he’s begging for them. So unable to navigate his own feelings that he’ll take instruction.
“Just let me in, Max. It doesn’t have to be all the way. It doesn’t have to be right now. But give me some sort of signal, will ya?” Archie chuckles, hoping to keep the mood light, but it falls flat. “Do you need me to offer first? Or at least ask?”
Instantly, a retreat. Some of the guard comes back to Maxie’s face. Up go the barriers. “You shouldn’t have to do that, Archie.”
“But I will. All you gotta do is meet me halfway.”
Maxie wants to argue. He always does, but especially now. The only problem is that he can’t seem to find the right words to protest with. “Seems like a lot of work…”
“It is,” Archie replies. “And I’ll do it, happily, because I love to see that little smile on your face.” He pokes Maxie’s cheek but gets no response. “It makes me happy to care for you, sailor.”
Maxie averts his eyes. “Don’t get it.” His voice is pitching higher, tick by tick.
“You don’t have to get it. You just have to know I love you. You know that?”
Maxie nods. There’s a clumsiness in his movements, a roughness that gives away how little he’s gone. “Love you too.”
“Glad we’ve got that covered. Now—” he pulls Maxie into his lap, grinning when Maxie yelps in surprise. “—can I please take care of my little first mate?”
And as expected, Maxie goes rigid, his face paling ever so slightly. Because no matter how many times they have this conversation, he’s scared. He’d never admit it out loud, and maybe he doesn’t even admit it to himself, but Maxie is scared.
Archie matches Maxie’s pout. “Please?” He jostles Maxie but only gets a half-smile in response. So he persists. “Oh, please, let me see my baby boy?”
Maxie pulls in a deep breath, as if steeling his nerves, and finally nods. “I trust you.”
It’s times like these where Archie thinks Maxie has to know what he’s doing, how words like that make Archie’s chest blossom with warmth.
“Thank you, lad.”
Maxie doesn’t answer. Like clockwork, his thumb drifts up to the corner of his mouth. Then, after a moment, it slips between his lips instead.
Archie tries not to show his surprise. That’s certainly a new behavior. Just a shame that he has to discourage it. “Now, now, none of that. Germs, remember? Let me up and I’ll get your stuff.”
Maxie bites his lip. “It’s okay?”
“’Course it is.” To prove his point, Archie slips out of bed and retrieves the duffle bag from the closet. The more popular items are at the top, namely the plush baby blanket and the singular fidget toy. Archie pushes those both aside, quickly uncovering the pacifier and matching clip, both tucked away in their own case.
Maxie drops his gaze. He hasn’t used the pacifier since their outing to Slateport—and even then, he hadn’t had the courage to take it out until Archie was already asleep. This is a big step, for both of them.
“This okay?” Archie asks. Just to make sure. Just to double check that Maxie won’t go running.
Maxie nods, still not able to lift his gaze. That’s probably the best invitation that Archie’s going to get.
He gently fastens the clip to the end of Maxie’s sleeve, holding out the pacifier for him to take. There’s a line there, one that they haven’t crossed yet, and they’re both too out of sorts to push the boundaries any further.
Still, the effect is immediate. The tension in Maxie’s shoulders unravels, and he doesn’t sink so much as fall right into Archie’s arms.
“Is this why you’ve been so shy?” Archie asks. “Have you been feeling a little tinier than usual?”
Maxie’s face burns, and while he wants to protest, their discussion of honesty is too fresh. So he nods.
“Awh, tiny little sailor.”
The door creaks open, and for a terrible moment, they both freeze. Their kids know they’re supposed to knock, and if anyone saw Maxie like this, at his smallest and most vulnerable…
Archie’s already on his feet, ready to turn away whoever’s come to visit, when Pecha zips through the gap.
Archie’s so strung up that all he can do is laugh. “The lass knows how to open doors!”
Pecha trots past him, holding her head up with pride, as she hops onto their bed.
“Is that okay, scamp? Can Pecha stay?”
Not like she’s giving either of them a choice. She’s already curled up in Archie’s spot, purring like mad.
“Make room for Archie, please,” Maxie says, lifting Pecha into his lap. The soother slurs his words, making it sound like May roo’ for Arshie pleash.
Archie can’t help but marvel at just how fast Maxie dropped. Then again, how long has he been fighting this back? Pecha’s been on his heels all week, meaning that he might have spent the entire time just barely skimming the surface.
No, this is long, long overdue.
When Archie wakes up the following morning, the first thing that hits him is a cold wave of dread.
It’s part of their routine for Maxie to wake up earlier than Archie, and use the time to try and “make up” for Archie having to care for him. And with how last night went, Archie has no doubts he’ll wake up alone.
Archie sits up. Or at least, he tries to. Hard to when Maxie’s curled up against his arm. Even harder when Pecha is sprawled out in the space between, half-draped against Archie’s shoulder.
But the big thing is that Maxie is absolutely still regressed. If it wasn’t obvious from the pacifier still in his mouth, then from the way he’s still curled into Archie’s warmth.
Archie prays that the sudden movement won’t wake him up, but it’s no sooner after he’s had the thought for Maxie to be blinking awake.
Only one word comes to mind looking at him now. Drained. He doesn’t even have the strength to put his walls back up, leaving it to Archie to keep him safe.
Maxie makes a soft inquisitive noise, just barely able to keep his eyes open.
“Go back to sleep, lad,” Archie croons. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Maxie acquiesces, his eyes slipping shut. His breathing plateaus, and Pecha’s is quick to follow suit.
It’s as concerning as it is comforting, as worrisome as it is sweet. Nice to know that Maxie can accept care without a fight, if only it didn’t take a whole week of rough seas for them to get there.
Still, he’ll take what opportunities he can, and in the meantime, he’ll hope they get better. Both of them.
He kisses Maxie’s forehead, then Pecha’s, then joins them in the gentle throes of sleep.