I Do I Did

Epilogue

"Do you hear that?" Patrick paused outside of the slightly ajar front door and turned to look at his best friend.

Brendon leaned in closer to the door. A smile spread over his face when he heard the muted yelling and thudded footsteps coming from inside.

"Home sweet home." He sighed, pushing the door fully open.

The scene in front of them looked like it could have come from some Disney movie. Patrick watched his son run past him at a speed only a three year old could muster. There were at least four colors covering his hair, face and clothes. Patrick didn't want to ask. And then there was Pete. Not exactly slow. But not fast enough to catch up to a child who was probably on some kind of sugar high.

"Camper!" Pete screamed when he grabbed for the boy and touched nothing but air. "Camper, stop running!"

"Daddy!" The boy squealed when he saw his father standing in the doorway of the house. "Daddy help me!" He rushed to Patrick. Wrapping his arms around his thighs and burying his face into his pants.

Patrick tucked his hands under the small boys arms to lift him up. He rested him on his hip. Ignoring the fact that the colors would now travel to his own clothes. Pete slowed to a stop when he saw his husband holding the boy.

"What's going on?" Patrick used his free hand to run his fingers through his son's colorful hair. He lifted his hand to inspect it. Paint. Definitely paint.

"Daddy's being a mean butt."

"Why are you being a mean butt, Pete?" Brendon asked.

"Camper, tell daddy what you did." Pete crossed his arms over his chest.

"I painted, daddy." He smiled up at Patrick. "Just like you."

"Aw, that's so cute. What did you paint?"

"My laptop." Pete lifted an unimpressed eyebrow.

"And your office walls." Ryan reminded him as he walked down the stairs into the lobby. "Don't forget that."

"How? Why was he even in your office?"

"We were painting in his playroom and he was supposed to go to his bedroom to get another brush." Ryan explained.

"When he was gone for three minutes we realized something was up." Pete added on. "So we ran around the house looking for him. And that's where we found him."

"So basically what you're telling me is that I left you alone for a couple of hours and you lost our son?" He teased.

Pete's eyes narrowed. "I had a lot of important files on that laptop, Patrick."

"I know you did honey." He said more seriously. "And he's really sorry." He shook the boy in his arms. "Tell daddy you're sorry, Camper."

"I'm sorry, daddy." He used the puppy dog eyes his uncle Brendon taught him a few days ago.

Pete tried to maintain his serious expression. But it was impossible to stay angry at such an adorable face. He sighed and grabbed the boy into his own arms. Now he, Patrick and Camper had traces of the paint on them.

"I know you are." He smiled. "Just no more painting in daddy's office, okay?"

"Okay." He grinned.

"Speaking of painting." He placed his son back on the floor. The boy ran for Brendon. "How did your meeting go?"

"It went great." Patrick couldn't contain his excitement. "I'm going to be in the New Era Art Genius gallery!"

"No way! Babe, that's awesome!" He lifted Patrick by his waist and spun him in a full circle.

"I know! I know!" He kicked to be put back on the ground. Pete complied but didn't let go of him.

"We should celebrate!" Ryan jumped up and down in his Pink sweatpants and white T-shirt.

"Birthday cake!" Camper cheered. Clapping his hands wildly. Sending paint droplets around.

"Celebrate doesn't always mean cake, Camp." Brendon laughed.

The surprised look on his face made the four men in the room laugh. His wide eyes crinkled as he put on a smile to match everyone else's. A smile exactly like the one his mother used to wear. He looked like Meagan. Almost exactly like her. Almost because his eyes were lighter and his hair was darker. So similar to Pete's. Similar, but not exactly the same.

"I'm funny." He grinned.

"You're extremely funny." Ryan pinched his cheek.

Camper pushed his hand away.

"So how do you want to celebrate?" Pete asked him.

"We could go to dinner tonight."

"You know we love babysitting." Brendon shrugged.

"Dinner it is." He kissed him quickly on the mouth and pulled away. "It'll be fun."

"Beach is fun." Camper chimed in.

"The beach?" He nodded. "Do you guys want to go to the beach today?"

"The private beach?" Ryan questioned.

"Of course." Pete nodded. "We'll take the jet."

"You hear that, buddy?" Brendon bounced the child on his hip. "We're going to the beach."

"Are we going to build another sandcastle, uncle Brendon?"

"You bet your ass we're going to build a sandcastle."

"Brendon." Patrick chided. "Language."

"Let's go get you cleaned up." He placed Camper back on the ground. Grabbing his small hand in his as they raced up the steps.

"It's uncanny how similar their personalities are." Pete muttered.

"I swear to god I think I married a five year old." Ryan agreed.

"Hey!" Patrick mock glared at them. "That's my best friend you're talking about. And he's five and a half!"