Micah and Sasha locked up the apartment so they could head to the tattoo shop for work. Micah had invested in a second helmet for Sasha after the week had gone. It was, in his mind, at least a permanent indicator that Sasha would be staying for more than just a visit.
Sasha for whatever reason had been very interested in one with a bright pink faux-hawk on top of the helmet. It made Micah roll his eyes, but he wasn't going to complain. At least Sasha wouldn't be hard to miss. Sasha just gave a goofy grin every time before he went to put the helmet on.
Micah took his time heading towards the shop, enjoying the nice weather before allowing himself to be cooped up inside. Sasha's grip tightened on him as they approached the shop, and Micah turned into the lot to park. He had barely pulled to a stop when Sasha started digging a fist into Micah's side, getting his ribs. Micah killed the bike in a huff and looked over his shoulder to complain.
"Fucking go!" Sasha was screaming through his helmet, his wide eyes barely visible through the visor.
Micah furrowed his brow, and Sasha dug his knuckles in further. "I said go!"
Micah glanced towards the shop, seeing an older man perched outside of it. At this point he had already noticed them, and he had his arms crossed over his chest, watching them. It took Micah another second to piece it together before bringing his bike back to life and swerving out of the lot.
Sasha's death grip around his stomach returned, and Micah blasted an empty four-way stop sign, a stream of mental curse words in his head.
That had to be Sasha's dad. How did he find them? Could he take Sasha back if he was here?
Micah came to a rough halt outside of the police station, hopping off the bike and dragging Sasha with him. Sasha fought to get out of his helmet with one arm, his other being held by Micah as he stormed them inside the building. "Jeff," Micah panted as he burst through the door. "I need Jeff, now."
One of the deputies gawped at him while the other snapped to attention. "He's in his office, but—"
That was all Micah needed to hear. He pulled Sasha forward and went into the office, catching Jeff off-guard on the phone. "I'm going to have to call you back," Jeff muttered apologetically into the phone before shooting Micah a look. "What are you doing?"
"My dad's here," Sasha squeaked.
Jeff paused. "Where?"
"He was outside the shop. Saw him and split," Micah said, setting his helmet down. "He can't—he's still Sasha's guardian. He can't take him, can he?"
"He can try, but he's not going to," Jeff answered firmly. "We have the pictures, and we've submitted the petition for the custody removal. Maybe he did see the notification after all, we can't stop him from being in court. Judge Marshall is handling it as it is. He doesn't usually handle family court cases, but he's a friend of my dad's. We're on the docket already, we just have to show up. The issue is Sasha's dad can be there too. You're going to have to cross every single t on this—I thought we would have more time to get your act cleaned up." Jeff motioned for them to sit before going to his door. "El, if anyone comes through here looking for Sasha, he's not here, got that? And I'm not either." He shut his door and locked it. "Should have thought about locking it before, but no, people don't knock anymore," he griped on his way around his desk.
Jeff spent a long while making phone calls, while Micah was trying not to crush something with his hands. He had a killer grip on the arms of the chair, and Sasha looked like he was about to pass out. Jeff had caught on and tossed a partially filled water bottle at Sasha, who was just aware enough to catch it before getting hit in the chest.

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Our Little Nowhere [mxm]
RomanceMicah has not had an easy life. Being raised by adoptive parents and having a criminal record are bad enough in a small town that talks, but Sheriff Jeff Rolland also keeps a close eye on him. As Micah's life gets complicated in a custody battle, it...