𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄.. - 𝐩𝐫𝐧 & 𝐦𝐣

epilogue

"If you be the cash, I'll be the rubber band."

"I don't wanna get a house." Michael pouted, wearing a pout, rubbing his arm covered by a black long-sleeved sweater.

"Why not? I like this house for us. It's amazing Michael. You don't like it?"

"I like it but you don't think it's expensive? 2 million dollars on a house?"

"Not one you're in. You bring it all together you know. Like I'm the cash and you're the rubber band. Like that." Prince explained, pulling him into his side for a soft kiss on the temple.

"You be the match, I will be a fuse, boom."

"Stop you're gonna cause me to get burned!" Michael gasped, watching Prince light the firecracker birthday candle he put on his cake.

Prince, Janet and Randy gathered around the table, singing happy birthday to the man they were ever so grateful to have another year with.

Sniffling, Michael wiped his eye of a tear and pulled up the sleeves of his green long-sleeve, and pulled down his black beanie before blowing out his huge candle.

"Painter baby, you could be the muse."

"You should let me paint you naked." Michael suggested as they walked down the beach.

"Naked?" Prince laughed.

"Naked. Be my muse."

Soon enough, Prince was laid off on his stomach on the couch, Michael sketching from observation. Every curve, contour and shadow being highlighted; no part of the body he knew oh so well going unnoticed.

In about two hours with snack and IV breaks, Michael was done, and took the painting off of the canvas and flipped it around for Prince to see.

"My muse." He said, letting out a soft sigh as Prince approached him, placing a kiss on his lips.

"This. This right here is why you're a millionaire baby."

Michael smiled against his lips, returning his kiss.

"I'm the reporter baby you could be the news."

"This just in... The adoption papers just got approved." Prince smiled, placing the paper down on the counter as Michael drank his morning tea when Prince had gone out for the mail.

Michael had initial doubts about adopting a baby with his seizures happening more often than usual, and his headaches worsening. He would have breakdowns often and Prince would have to talk him through them but he trusted Prince. He knew that even if something happened to him; Dylan would be okay.

They had never seen the boy, but his name was everything to Prince— Dylan, meaning ray of hope in Irish.

"I'm happy." Michael said before taking another sip of his tea.

"What kind of tea is that?"

"Mango, and no, you can't have any." Michael smiled from behind the cup.

"'Cause you're the cigarette and I'm the smoker."

"I love you more than anybody I've ever loved... In my entire life." Prince breathed, a drop of sweat falling onto Michael's nose, his hand in Prince's hair, his thumb brushing his cheek as he looked up at him.