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It all started when Declan Stump was 6 years old.
He had gone to a new school, and Patrick, his father, was worried he wouldn't make any friends. Throughout the whole day the boy was at school, Patrick paced through the apartment he had bought, once moving back to Chicago, after Declan's mother, Elisa, left them, with no custody over her son, and no explanation whatsoever.
Patrick was surprised when he went to pick Declan up and saw him talking to a boy with really curly blonde hair. He hugged the boy, before running over to Patrick, who was standing just outside the playground next to his car, and hugging him.
"Who's that boy?" Patrick asked.
"That's Bronx! He's my new best friend!" Declan exclaimed, before turning around and waving frantically to the blonde boy, Bronx.
"That's awesome buddy!" Patrick told him, smiling brightly at the little boy. He sighed quietly in relief, extremely pleased his son hadn't gotten his awkward and shy genes.
~~**~~
About a month later, when Patrick went to pick up Declan after school like he and everyday (being a musician who worked at home and occasionally performed at cafes and bars and such really was great, except the pesky executives who kept trying to sign him to their labels when he kept turning them down), the boy ran over to him, even more excited than usual.
"Daddy!" The child screamed, leaping at Patrick, who picked him up and held him against his side. "Can I go over Bronx's house for the day?" He asked, pulling off his perfect puppy dog eyes.
"Yeah why not? It's a Friday, but I want to meet his mother first," Patrick said.
"He doesn't have a mommy! Well he does, but she doesn't live with him. He said his parents were div--diviced!" Declan told him.
"Divorced?" Patrick guided.
"Yeah that! He lives with his daddy, like me!" The child called. Patrick couldn't help but laughed. He put Declan down and had him lead him over to the boy.
"Bronx's dad, this is my dad, he wants to meet you and then I can go!" He cried happily. The two boys ran off back to the playground while Patrick was faced with Bronx's dad.
He had brown hair, a Metallica tank top, black skinny jeans, and tattoos.
Damn, he's hot, Patrick thought. "Hey, I'm Patrick, Declan's dad."
"Sup man, I'm Pete," the guy said, giving him a toothy grin.
"Nice to meet you. Promise me you aren't an axe murderer or like a rapist or something," Patrick joked, fixing his fedora.
Pete laughed, "Nah I'm not, don't worry."
"Okay then, good in my books," Patrick chuckled.
"So, Declan said you were a 'musicer', I'm assuming he meant 'musician'?"
Patrick laughed, "Yeah that. He gets a bit confused by some words. I told me that you were 'diviced'." After he said it, he realized, oh shit, that may be a sensitive topic.
Pete laughed, thank god. "Yeah, his mother lives in LA, he'll see her on some weekends and stuff."
"Oh nice," Patrick said. "It's a shame Declan's mom just upped and left, I think he misses her more than he's letting on."
"Wow that sucks dude," Pete said sympathetically.
"Yeah I guess, but I can't blame her, your wife doesn't usually want to continue being your wife when she find out you're a flaming homosexual," Patrick said, then shrugged like 'What're you gonna do?'
"Wait what? You're gay and married a woman?" Pete asked.
"I was drunk at a party. Rubber breaks. My parents kinda forced me to marry her. She never knew I was gay until like...earlier this year. We'd been married for nearly six years. But hey, I got Declan out of it, and I love the kid more than anything," Patrick explained.
"I feel that dude," Pete said. "Ashlee, my ex-wife, is kinda a bitch, wasn't really until she cheated on me but hey, you know. But same here, Bronx is amazing. But you look way too young to have a kid."
"I'm 22, so kinda," Patrick said, shrugging.
"Wow, and I thought 21 was a young age to have a kid at, but 16?" He said, letting out a low whistle. "I'm 27 now but still man."
"Yeah. So you know I'm a musician, what do you do?" Patrick asked, changing conversation.
"I'm in the music business too actually. I'm an executive for a label. Hey, you're a musician!" He said.
"We've been over that," Patrick joked.
"Ha ha. But seriously can I ask, why do some people not sign to labels? You think someone undiscovered would really want to sign so they could make it."
"Well, executives can be extremely annoying, no offense," he added quickly. Pete waved a dismissive hand and Patrick continued, "but believe me, I know. This dude keeps bugging me to sign, and I'd love to, but I think it's annoying him to try and get me, but like, he really wants me on his label. It's kinda funny to annoy him."
"Who is it? I might know them," Pete joked.
"This guy...his name's Pete actually. Pete...Wentz I think. He seems like a completely arrogant dick to me. He seems like one of those guys who is just rude to everyone and has like, a barely legal trophy wife that he's a misogynistic asshole to."
Pete just laughed, really loudly, "Well you're wrong about the last part, I know the guy, he's actually single, and recently had a boyfriend. And he is kinda an arrogant dick but is really nice to his staff and musicians and stuff."
"Oh...that's surprising," Patrick told him. "I'd love to chat more, but I think they want to get going, and I've got a few more hours of staring at blank sheet music ahead of me, so I'll be seeing you later I guess. Oh! Can I have your phone number so I can text you and stuff about when you want me to pick him up?"
"Sure here," he said, reciting the number, which Patrick typed in as the two kids returned.
"Okay thanks, I'll see you later!" He told Pete, as the two boys climbed into the car. Pete was about to too, when Patrick said, "Oh! Wait! I never got your last name."
"It's Wentz," he told him with a smirk. Patrick's mouth slipped into a nearly comical 'o' shape. Pete just laughed, waved, and drove off.
"Hey Declan," Pete asked, once they were a few minutes away. "What's your last name?"
"Stump!" The kid answered cheerily.
"Well fuck," Pete said. "Uh...I never said that. Don't tell your dad." He figured he'd say that, since that wasn't language he should use around someone else's six year old, and, Patrick was the guy he'd been trying to sign for months.
They managed to clear the air that night when Patrick went to pick up Declan, and he even agreed to a record deal, but only local shows.
~~Six Years Later~~
"Hey dad!" The 12 year old Declan called through their apartment.
"Yeah bud?" Patrick called back. Declan peeked around the corner of the wall to the kitchen and said, "My school's going to a museum on a trip. Wanna chaperone? Bronx is trying to get Mr. Wentz to go, but he won't. So if you go, he might."
"Well if Pete'll be there, then yeah why not?" Patrick said.
"Coolio!" Declan called, shoving a paper into his dad's hand and running up to his room. Patrick laughed, and filled it in, checking off the box that said he would like to chaperone.
~~**~~
"Yo Pops!" Bronx yelled, running into the living room and hopping onto the couch next to Pete. He flopped down so he was sitting on his knees and leaning towards his dad.
"Yeah little man?" Pete chuckled.
"My school's going to a museum on a trip. Wanna chaperone? Declan is trying to get Mr. Stump to go, but he won't. So if you go, he might."
"Well if Patty'll be there, then yeah sure," Pete said.
"Sweet!" Bronx cheered, tossing the papers to Pete and dashing to his room.
~~**~~
"So did your dad agree?" Declan asked the next day. They were in his room after school, and Patrick was in a business meeting with Pete.
"Yup," Bronx said, flopping across Declan's bed. The latter just rolled his eyes, and continued with his math homework. "Ha, neeeeerd!" Bronx teased, flicking Declan's glasses, earning him a kick to the side of the head. "How'd you even manage that? You're cross-legged with a three ring binder on your lap?"
"I'm magical," Declan deadpanned. "Anyway, mine agreed too. So, you wanna plan this?"
"Totally! They sooooo love each other!" Bronx screamed. Declan laughed at his friend and shook his head, as they started to plan it all out.
~~**~~
On the Friday morning of the trip, two days later, Bronx was sitting in Pete's car on the way to school.
"You look unusually excited for a field trip," Pete remarked at his son, who was literally bouncing in his seat.
Bronx just shrugged and leaped out of the car as soon as Pete had parked in a visitor's spot in front of the main door. They both walked in, he did stuff in the office, and they went to the cafeteria, where everyone going on the trip, the seventh graders, were waiting.
"Yo Declan!" Bronx screamed, running to his friend.
"You're literally twelve," Declan deadpanned. "Just because you're a day past thirteen doesn't mean you're better!" Bronx screamed.
"Mr. Wentz! Mr. Stump!" A teacher called out to them, looking stern.
"Yes?" Patrick and Pete replied.
"Uh...the other ones," she said.
"Yes?" The smaller two said in unison.
"Lower your voices! But have your fathers come over here and get their name tags," she told them. The older two walked over to the table and brought back blank name stickers and markers.
Declan stole Patrick's and wrote "Patty" on it and drew a fedora next to it. Bronx stole his dad's and wrote "PEPE" in all capital letters and then "jk it's Pete" under it.
"You two are weird," Patrick laughed. The both just smiled up at him with wide, toothy grins. Pete and Patrick were like second fathers for each other's child.
~~**~~
"Hey Patrick," Pete said, "It's you." He pointed to a statue making a really weird pose.
"Uh no, it's you," Patrick said, before pointing the extremely tiny marble dick.
"Rude," Pete huffed, causing Patrick to giggle.
"Uh Pete?" Patrick asked. "Where's the rest of the group?"
"What?" Pete asked, before looking around. "Oh crap! We lost everyone!"
"Well we better come up with a lie when we find them. I don't think 'we were looking at dicks' is a reasonable excuse for why we lost them," Patrick said.
Pete burst out laughing just as the power went out.
"Oh god," Patrick muttered.
"Is this you?" Pete asked, grabbing Patrick's hand.
"Yeah," Patrick said, squeezing Pete's hand. Neither wanted to let go, so they didn't.
"Here let's go this way," Pete said. He walked through a door, and it clearly wasn't the right door, as they ended up in a closet.
"Well that want the right door," Patrick giggled.
"No it wasn't," Pete agreed. "But hey, we stuck together, that's good. And that random skylight is adding some light."
"True. But who the hell puts a skylight in a janitor's closet?" Patrick laughed.
"Museums. Duh," Pete said, in a fake 'no shit' tone, cashing them both to laugh.
Their laughter died down, and Pete brushed away some of Patrick's newly bleached hair, before leaning down and kissing him gently. Patrick smiled into the kiss, and kissed back.
Pete pulled away, and gently rest his forehead on Patrick's. "I've been wanting to do that since we first met," he whispered.
"Before or after I called you a dick?" Patrick joked.
"Before, but much more after," Pete giggled.
"And I'd wanted to do that since I picked up Declan and saw how great you were with the two of them," Patrick sighed happily.
"So we could've been doing that for six years?" Pete asked.
"Yup, but let's make up for lost time," Patrick told him, standing on his toes to kiss him again. Pete placed his hands on Patrick's waist, pulling him closer.
~~**~~
They eventually left the closet (after a lot of slow making out), and found the group again. The two had agreed to tell their sons about their new relationship later that night, so they acted like nothing happened.
Once the trip was over, Pete and Bronx agreed to go over to the Stump's apartment for dinner.
After it was over, they moved into the living room to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, but before they put it on, they looked directly at their sons.
"So guys, we have something to tell you," Patrick told them slowly, before looking at Pete.
The latter locked their fingers together, looked their sons in the eyes, and said, "We're dating."
"HELL YES!" Both children screamed in unison. "Finally!"
"Hey maybe we'll be brothers one day," Bronx joked. They all laughed.
They weren't laughing two years later, at Pete and Patrick's wedding.