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crate, and Miki found himself folded into Donal’s thick arms as he was pulled into a fierce hug. “Miki boy, there’s nothing wrong with ye. Yer not someone I ever imagined with Kane because I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone like ye. Yer perfect for m’boy.”
    “Okay, anyone ever shoot you in the head? Because, dude, you sound like you got popped one,” Miki mumbled into Donal’s shoulder. “Maybe one too many football games. Blow to the head. That kind of stuff.”
    Everything else he said was lost in the bulk of the Irish man holding him.
    It felt good to be hugged. Especially by Donal. The feel of the embrace was so different from any he’d gotten from Damie or Kane. Beyond comforting, there was a protectiveness he couldn’t describe. Like if he held on for just a minute longer, he’d be all better once he let go. He put his arms up and hugged back, letting himself feel the strength of the man who’d taken him under his wing.
    “Someday, Miki boy, yer going to know how much yer loved. Ye’ll not question it anymore, and I can’t wait for that day.” Donal tightened his arms, then rubbed at Miki’s back. “What did ye think when Kane had to go?”
    “You don’t wanna know. We were um… yeah.” Miki shook his head, and Donal laughed, an echoing deep rumble. Detaching himself from Donal’s hug was hard, but the older man gave him a firm quick squeeze before he let go. “Mostly it was, Fuck? Really? Now you guys turn on the Bat Signal? It was pretty damned good there.”
    “Not what ye were thinking about—spare me that, Miki boy. Some things a man shouldn’t know about his gay sons.” Donal ruffled Miki’s hair and handed Miki a coffee cup. “Were ye mad they called him in?”
    “Hell no, he’s a cop. Shit’s gonna happen. People need him. Why would I be mad?”
    “Because some people would be plenty pissed off he left. They’d think they weren’t coming first in his life,” Donal pointed out. “But ye know he loves ye, and him leaving—to do the job—wasn’t because he wanted to leave ye.”
    “Dude, if someone’s dead, isn’t there like only a few hours where shit’s gotta be done? Before it all goes cold?”
    “Aye. There is.”
    “Then I’d be some pretty small-minded fuck to cry about not getting dinner or something.” Miki shrugged. “Kane’s going to come back when he’s done. Not like I haven’t eaten cold leftovers before in my life. Shit, that could have been the name of our band—Stone Cold Leftovers.”
    “See? That’s why yer perfect for him.” Donal saluted him with his mug. “It’s hard loving a cop. We bring a lot of shite home. Ye’ve got to deal with it as much as he does.”
    “Like he doesn’t have to deal with my shit,” he snorted. “Nah, I’m good with it. Told him that before he put on his cape and picked Sanchez up. I just couldn’t deal with all that… crap over there.” Miki waved at the koa trunk. “Damie and Sionn got each other these huge presents, like cars and expensive watches. All I got Kane was a chunk of forest leftovers. Well, and some shit Damie talked me into at the jewelry store.”
    “Trust me, son,” Donal murmured softly. “Kane’s going to love that first pressie more than anything else. Except for, perhaps, his Miki boy. Now, I’ve got to get on home. The Grand Dragon should be back with the girls. They do their own thing on Valentine’s Day before Brigid and I have dinner. Something about chocolates and secrets. I don’t ask. Women sometimes like their secrets.”
    “Yeah, some guys do too.” Miki made a face. “Too complicated. Not for me.”
    Miki walked Donal to the door, and the older man paused at the threshold to envelop Miki in one final hug. This time Donal kissed the top of his head before letting Miki go.
    “Ye do me a favor now, Miki boy.” Donal looked down at him and smiled.
    “Sure. ’Zup?”
    “Ye can call me Da or Dad if ye want. Donal’s all right, but ye’re Kane’s.