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Nick woke up from a deep sleep to the smell of bacon and a sliver of light peeking through the shut curtains that shone in his face. He rolled over, facing away from the bothersome light. The foghorn blared down by the docks; another foggy day in Seaport, as most days were. It took a moment for the fog in Nick’s mind to clear; he was in his room, on the side of the bed farthest from the door, which was cracked open. The sheets on the other side of the bed were thrown aside, and there was still a head-shaped dent in the pillow. Nick smiled and touched the empty spot; still warm. Ghetto had also just awoken, and was making breakfast, judging by the smell.
Nick got out of bed and draped a blanket over himself, rather than getting properly dressed. He opened his door and noticed the door to the second bedroom was open, the room itself empty and the bed made, though a bit haphazardly. Nick smiled and walked downstairs, not usually this quick to get out of bed but eager to see his family.
Ghetto grinned at Nick from inside the kitchen. “Morning, hun, I was wondering if the cooking was gonna wake you up,” he said, placing three plates on the counter in front of him. He seemed especially cheerful, bobbing his head to an unheard tune. It was contagious, and Nick smiled wide as Ghetto held out a hand and poked the tip of Nick’s nose. “I made bacon and eggs, sorry I didn’t wait for you, but Jordan asked for food and I didn’t wanna keep him waiting.” Ghetto nodded his head towards the living room at that, and Nick turned to see their recently adopted five year old sitting on the floor and working quietly on a puzzle.
“He asked for food?” Nick asked, eyes widening. “Like— came up to you—”
Ghetto nodded, still smiling. “Was really nervous about it but yeah, don’t make a big deal about it or anything.” He picked up the tongs and clacked them together at Nick.
“I’m glad he’s getting better at asking us for things,” Nick said, and Ghetto set a plate of food in front of him. “Thank you babe.”
“I’m glad too. He didn’t go back to his room right after asking either.”
Nick sat at the counter and watched Jordan. He’d been living in a foster home, and though Nick had planned on carrying their children (and still may, sometime later on), Jordan caught their eyes, and it felt to both of them as if it was all meant to be. Despite this, it had been understandably difficult for Jordan to adjust, with a certain awkwardness between them and the child that worried them. But they were all doing the best they could.
“Breakfast is ready, kiddo,” Ghetto called, and Jordan looked over at them. He got up and walked over, and Nick helped him into the chair next to him. Ghetto set Jordan’s plate in front of him. Ghetto was visibly concealing excitement at Jordan’s change in behavior, and he kept glancing from Jordan to Nick as they ate, grinning widely at Nick, who scoffed and nodded to him. Once, Nick mouthed an ‘I know’ and another time an ‘I love you,’ reaching out to hold Ghetto’s hand for a moment during the latter.
“Have you talked to Shark or AK lately?” Nick asked, taking the last bite of his eggs. “I only ask ‘cuz I haven’t, I’ve been busy bugging Gray, and I imagine they’re mad it was just them two at boy’s night last weekend.”
Ghetto scoffed. “Quit bugging Gray, he’s got his own old man problems. And yes, I’ve been texting Shark. He likes complaining about people at his job,” he said, taking his and Nick’s empty plates. Suddenly, he perked up. “You know what I just realized? If he and Annie get married, she can’t take his last name. Annie Andrews sounds a little cheesy.”
“It’s their decision,” Nick said, and Ghetto shrugged it off. “I don’t mind Annie Andrews.”
“I think it kinda sounds like someone from a book,” Jordan said, his voice timid and his eyes nervous. Ghetto and Nick both caught themselves in stunned silence for a moment.
Ghetto snapped out of it a second faster and said, “It does, doesn’t it! We’ll just have to wait and see, though. I think you’ll like those two, once you meet them.”
Jordan cracked a bit of a smile. “I wanna meet them,” he said, and Nick and Ghetto couldn’t contain their smiles.
“You will, one day,” Ghetto reassured, taking a bite of leftover bacon. They all looked up as the foghorn went off again. “Dang, this fog is persistent, it’s hardly even fall.”
“It’ll probably clear up for a bit later in the day, I was getting hints of sunlight, like, right in my face this morning, pure blinding sunlight,” Nick said, holding his hand up to his face in a demonstration. Ghetto pouted mockingly.
“You poor thing.”
“Ghetto, hun,” Nick wagged a finger at his husband jokingly. Ghetto grabbed the finger and put it down, smirking. Jordan giggled.
“So, it’s kinda foggy a lot?” Jordan asked, and Nick shrugged.
“Yeah, but you can’t get the Seaport experience on the mainland!” Ghetto exclaimed. Nick scoffed.
“You also can’t get the AK experience on the mainland, though,” he said. Ghetto pointed at him and nodded to that. Jordan tilted his head, glancing between them.
“What are your friends like?” he asked, and Nick and Ghetto exchanged glances.
“Hah, where do we start?”
——
“You gonna be okay, tiger?” Ghetto asked, reaching out gently and ruffling Jordan’s hair once it was clear there was no objection to his doing so. They were in Jordan’s room, and Nick was setting up a night light at the child’s request. The foghorn had been making him anxious. “We had fun hanging out with you today.”
Jordan smiled and nodded as he climbed into bed. “Me too. And I’ll be okay,” he said, turning to look at Nick. “Thank you for the light, Nick.”
Nick waved it off and grabbed the bedsheets. “No problem, I know the foghorn’s been bugging you. We’ll get you anything you need,” he reassured, draping the sheets over Jordan and sitting on the bed. He reached out and held Jordan’s small hand. “Feel free to wake us up.”
“Okay,” Jordan whispered, and he messed with the end of the sheets anxiously with his free hand. Nick started to stand back up when Jordan squeezed his hand and said, “Wait, can I ask one more thing?”
“Oh, yeah of course,” Nick said, sitting back down. Ghetto leaned on the nightstand and tilted his head.
“Can I have a story? A real life one,” Jordan said, looking between them. “Like, like how did you meet?”
Nick and Ghetto exchanged glances, grinning at each other as old memories resurfaced. “Oh, god,” Ghetto said, and Nick giggled at him.
“It’s not too much of a story,” Nick said. Jordan was still holding onto Nick’s hand, but the grip had loosened slightly. “Seaport’s a small island, we’ve known each other since we were kids, went to all the same schools, but we really got to know each other in middle school. Or at least, that’s the meeting that came to mind first.”
“We had five classes together one year,” Ghetto said. Jordan raised his eyebrows in wonder. “Nick was a year below me but he was an overachiever or whatever, that’s why.”
“Hey,” Nick warned jokingly, wagging a finger at Ghetto. “Careful.”
Jordan laughed, and Ghetto snickered too. “I sat next to Nick, because he was alone at lunch and his sister was somewhere else, for a reason I don’t remember. We exchanged some food and got to talking, turned out we had mutual friends. We hung out a lot after that. We bonded over making fun of AK, mostly,” Ghetto continued, and Jordan nodded, believing this. “I feel like we got crushes on each other pretty quick. Then in high school, and this is where it gets good, I asked Nick to prom as a—”
“Quote on quote, ‘like, friend thing,’” Nick mocked. Ghetto rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah yeah whatever. Anyway we went to prom and ditched AK almost immediately.”
“And then once we got bored of jumping up and down in a dimly lit room filled with sweaty teens we snuck off and hung out alone in our physics classroom.” Nick gazed lovingly at Ghetto. “We ended up kissing, and we’ve been dating ever since.”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “Woah, this whole time? That’s nice,” he said, raising his voice excitedly. Ghetto and Nick both laughed softly, touching their wedding rings with gentle fingers, nearly in unison.
“You should get to bed, it’s getting late,” Ghetto hummed, standing up straight. Nick got up as well, Jordan’s hand slipping out of his. “Yell if you need us, right?”
“Right.” Jordan looked up at Ghetto with wide eyes as the latter made sure Jordan was tucked in.
“Goodnight, Jordan,” Nick said quietly, sending Jordan a reassuring smile. They walked over to the door, and Nick turned the light off. “See you tomorrow morning—”
“I—” Jordan propped himself up on his elbow. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Ghetto grabbed hold of Nick’s hand. “Hey, it’s no problem, ‘course we take care of you,” Ghetto said. “What kind of parents would we be if we didn’t?”
Jordan smiled and snuggled further into bed. “Goodnight,” he said, and Nick and Ghetto repeated it back to him. Nick closed the bedroom door softly, and Ghetto slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. Nick shushed him and led him to their room, shutting the door behind him.
“Oh my god,” Ghetto breathed, clamping his hands on Nick’s shoulders and gently shaking him. “Did you see that! Thank you for taking care of me— and all of it!”
“I was there, honey, I was there!” Nick laughed, shaking Ghetto back. For a moment, they squealed to each other in excitement, Nick even jumping up and down a few times. Then, Nick moved his hands to Ghetto’s cheeks. “He’s warming up.”
Ghetto tried and failed to blink tears away, still grinning ear to ear. “He spent the whole day talking to us, asking us questions—”
“Yeah! Aww, Ghetto,” Nick whispered, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “See? I told you he’d come around, he just needs time.”
Ghetto nodded, wiped his eyes, and hugged Nick. “We’re awesome at this,” Ghetto said, and Nick rubbed his back and laughed. “I love you.”
Nick readjusted his head and kissed Ghetto’s neck. “I love you too. Best dads ever?”
“Best dads ever.”
——
It was late when an unknown feeling compelled Nick to wake up. It was pitch black, and the foghorn blared in the distance. Nick, though numb to it, could see how Jordan could find it frightening; it was a rather ominous tone, unknown to a five year old who had previously lived inland.
Nick sat up, and glanced over to the bedroom door. It was cracked open, and a little face was poking through. “Jordan?” Nick whispered, squinting through the dark, and the small figure walked around to Nick’s side of the bed. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t sleep very well,” Jordan whined, and Nick sighed, running his fingers through Jordan’s curls. “Can I, um, can I...” Jordan patted the bed. Nick gasped.
“Oh, yeah, of course, come here.” Nick faced Jordan and lifted him into bed between himself and Ghetto. He lifted the covers over Jordan and laid back down, shutting his eyes. “If it helps somehow, Jordan, the foghorn has a cool job. It helps ships get through the fog and find their way back to the ports. We could take you down there and see them one day if you want.”
Jordan hummed at that. “So it’s helping the boats find their way home.”
“In a way. And everything in the boats, for that matter,” Nick whispered, already dozing off again.
“We came over here on a boat,” Jordan said. “After you came over to my other house to get me. There was a foghorn that led that boat here.”
Nick opened his eyes again for a moment, and then he smiled, draping an arm over Jordan.
“In that case, I'm glad you're home.”