But Damon’s arms were full, and he didn’t want to tell Anton no.
Rian didn’t miss a beat, bending to wrap his long, slender arms around Anton’s waist, dipping down like a flower stem bending gracefully under the weight of its own head. “Daddy’s out of shoulders, so...” With a playful little sound, he lifted Anton up, pretending to strain with an exaggerated sound as he stood. “Up you go with Papa, little one.”
With a startled squeal that turned into a laugh, Anton clung on tight while Rian maneuvered him up onto his shoulders, settling Anton so that his legs dangled down to either side of Rian’s neck. Anton held on tight to both of Rian’s hands, but then pouted, looking over at Damon and the twins with his lower lip thrust out.
“... Nina and Nan are higher up.”
Rian let out a patient chuckle. “Unfortunately I can’t get quite as tall as Daddy. But if you hold on tight...”
With a little deft maneuvering, Rian caught Anton around the waist and lifted him up in both hands; for a moment Anton kicked his feet nervously, then braced them against Rian’s shoulders. He wobbled—but Rian held him firm until he found his legs and straightened, clutching at Rian’s wrists and forearms before his entire face lit up in a broad grin.
“There we go,” Rian soothed, and Anton laughed, raising his arms and stretching toward the sky.
“I’m tall!” he said, and Rian let out an indulgent laugh warm with so much affection, so much love.
“Yes, you are, little man.”
Damon watched them fondly, his ribs binding up with every breath with the force of the emotion threatening to break him open. “He’s going to fall,” he murmured teasingly, and Rian threw him an arch look.
“He’s not going to fall,” he said, but firmed his grip on Anton nonetheless. “I’ve got him. Mind your two, they’re squirmers.”
Damon snorted and turned his head to blow a raspberry against Nina’s upper arm. “Daddy’s little wiggle worms.”
“I’m not a worm!” Nanette protested, while Nina snickered.
“I am!” she said, and wriggled her bottom against Damon’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Damon said, tightening his grip. “Keep it still, or you go back down.”
She pouted but settled against him, just a small ball of warmth that still carried a little baby smell even though she and her sister often reminded him that they were almost seven, little girls grown, and Anton was almost five.
He often told the twins they were six going on sixty, but really...
He was glad they were only six.
Because that meant an entire lifetime ahead of them.
An entire lifetime to love his little family, and hold them close as their children grew up and he and Rian grew together.
He’d never imagined his life would turn out like this.
A little lie. A massively overblown argument.
And the man who used to make him want to tear his own hair out at the roots...wearing his ring, with his roots grown so deep into Damon’s heart—while they watched the boy who had brought them together graduate, with a smile that lit up his face like sunlight.
Maybe it wasn’t everyone’s idea of a happy ending.
But Damon wouldn’t trade it for anything.
By the time the graduation ceremony was over, though, he was ready to sit down. Those little petal-weight girls on his shoulders had somehow grown by a few dozen pounds each, and he was glad to put them down and let them walk on their own to give his back a break, as the formal graduation ceremony broke up to let people mingle and talk. The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of handshakes; a few surprising hugs from graduating students for both himself and Rian, the kids putting on their best puppy eyes so everyone they met would tickle and hug and spoil them, even a few of the less aloof parents stopping to shake hands.
Except for Mrs. Northcote.
She hugged both Damon and Rian so close they both nearly tumbled over, crashing into them with each of her arms looped around both of their shoulders while she let out choked sounds that eventually translated into murmured thank yous.
Followed by Mr. Northcote clapping their backs, adding his own gruff gratitude.
Damon didn’t really know what to do, what to say. Rian looked equally stunned, but before either of them had to muster up a reply, the Northcote whirlwind swirled away to close in on their son and smother him in their embraces. Damon and Rian stood side by side, watching...and over his parents’ heads, Chris caught their eyes.
He didn’t say anything.
He just smiled.
And Damon smiled back, while at his side Rian reached for his hand and clasped tight.
“Daddy?” Anton asked, hooking his little fingers in the belt loops of Damon’s jeans. “Who’s that?”
“Someone I’m very proud of, little man,” Damon said softly. “Almost as proud as I am of you.”
It was almost another hour before they managed to extricate from the crowd—obligatory chit-chat, faculty hanging around and keeping an eye on everything, but by the time they made the walk up the hill back to the school they had three very tired children on their hands. Nina and Nanette were still on their own two feet, tottering along sleepily and hand in hand with Rian, but Damon ended up with Anton riding piggyback, drowsing with his head pillowed between Damon’s shoulder blades and his yawns making little rushes of air through his shirt.
Anton was almost fully asleep by the time they made it back to their suite, and Rian managed to get a hand free to unlock the door and let them in. The family suites at school weren’t much bigger than the doubles, but they still had enough space for Anton to have his own little bedroom, and for the twins to share a larger one. Anton didn’t even stir as Damon settled him in his little train-engine twin bed and tugged his shoes off, before tucking him in under a thin summer blanket. By the time he was done, Rian had gotten the girls down for a nap in their room—and Damon found him still there, settled on the edge of Nina’s bed and smoothing her wispy, dark brown hair back from her brow while her eyelids rose and fell again and again as she fought sleep.
She always did.
That was one place she differed from her twin.
Nanette fell into sleep like it was waiting for her with open arms, dropping off in a heartbeat and already gone right now, clutching tight at a cartoon-patterned blanket covered with her inexplicable obsession: Jiminy Cricket. Nina always took a little more soothing, but as Damon leaned his shoulder in the doorway, she let out a soft sigh—and the next time her eyes slipped closed, they didn’t rise again, her breaths settling into the steady sweet cadence of slumber. Rian’s soft strokes stopped, his thin bony hands resting against the top of her head, and he watched her with a small, sweet smile for several moments.