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Tanner

″Casey,″ he mumbled into Hammy′s chocolate curls, breathing in their scent as if it were his first time inhaling oxygen. ″I think our little boy is hungry.″

He held his breath, unsure if Casey would condone the use of our little boy. Tanner hadn′t meant much by it. He certainly didn′t want to rush into things. Heck, they′d only just met. He didn′t know the first thing about Casey.

But he wanted to get to know him, down to the finest, most trivial details; his third favourite colour, the flavours of ice cream he hated, the kind of clothes he wore when no one was around. He wanted to be a part of his life.

″That can′t be it,″ Casey chuckled. More and more, Tanner found himself swooning over his British accent. ″I′ve fed him enough cheeseburgers and ice cream to sustain him for a week.″

As if on cue, Hammy′s tummy rumbled like a churning storm. Casey paled. ″Oh,″ he said, cheeks flushed. ″I suppose he deserves a snack, after all.″

Tanner wore a crooked grin. ″Does he like hot dogs?″

″Uncle Casey loves hot dogs,″ Hammy chirped, to which the blood in his uncle′s cheeks threatened to seep from their vessels. He gagged on air.

″I think what Hammy means is –″

″You like hot dogs too, right?″ queried the adorable child, the tip of his nose almost touching Tanner′s. The latter scratched his scalp, grimacing.

″Yeah, I do,″ he chuckled, and Casey blushed more. ″I know a place.″

He stood, ruffling Hammy′s soft coils of russet hair. Like clockwork, the boy′s fingers curled in his. Tanner fought the urge to squeal in delight. He didn′t need Casey seeing that side of him just yet, though his stalking antics may have already revealed his peculiar habits in the realm of interest. Smiling, he led their small group across the pier, swinging his arm with Hammy′s jovially. The little one giggled cheerfully.

Then, to Tanner′s surprise, Hammy cleared his throat, though it sounded like a soft squeak. ″So.″ He fixed the elder boy with a curious, analytical look. ″Tanner, huh?″

The twenty-four-year-old nodded sheepishly. ″If you hurt my Uncle Casey,″ the five-year-old trailed on calmly, as Casey′s introductory conversation with Emma and Farissa fell out of earshot, ″I′ll staple your hotdog to your forehead.″

Tanner stopped in his tracks. His gaze drifted to the child′s, whose unassuming, gentle features crinkled just a little. ″Deal,″ he found himself saying, nodding agreement. Hammy′s lips curved at the edges. Tanner couldn′t resist a smile. ″What′s your uncle like?″

″He′s the sweetest man,″ replied Hammy, emphasising his next words as he swung his feet playfully, ″in the whole, wide world.″

″Dreamy,″ Tanner chuckled, stealing a quick glance over his shoulder. Emma and Farissa had linked arms with the poor boy, posing dozens of interrogatory questions about his life, hobbies and OTPs. They squealed loud enough for everyone at the pier to hear when he admitted to shipping Drarry.

″Are they always that loud?″ Hammy wondered, half-amused. Tanner, unable to contain his paternal instincts, hoisted Hammy up onto his shoulders before his feet could splash in an oncoming puddle. The young one squealed in delight, but unlike the elder′s best friends, his squeal carried nothing but pure ecstasy and joy through the air. ″I love you, Tanner,″ he squeaked cheerfully.

″I love you more, Hammy,″ he said, tilting his head back to grin up at the beautiful boy.

″And I love you most,″ came another voice, alongside a sensation of warmth Tanner had never-before experienced. Casey′s fingers entwined with his, and the young man′s back was soon pressed to his chest, head tucked comfortably under Tanner′s chin as they strolled on, hand in hand.

″Hey, Casey?″ he whispered, enchanted by the sound of the other boy′s name as it rolled effortlessly off his tongue.

″Yeah?″

Tanner emptied his left pocket, unfurling the filmstrip of the photo he′d found of them. ″Can I keep this?″ he asked, half-reluctant, but the boy′s reply was exactly what he′d hoped to hear.

Casey plucked the photo from between his fingers, crumpled it, and tossed it at a nearby bin. ″Forget the photo,″ was all Casey said, as his palm aligned with Tanner′s, and their Hammy′s feet dangled off his shoulders. ″Keep us instead.″