Page 70 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

Benji nods, wiping a tear away. “Love you so much, Dad.”

I open my mouth a few times, unable to get any words out.

“You really love them, don’t you?” Tatum finally says, breaking the silence. When I look into my son’s eyes, I’m surprised to find there’s no malice or ill will in his gaze. Just a subtle knowingness.

“With everything I’ve got,” I confirm. “Please support this, Tatum. I need you to be okay with it, because I can’t give them up. I won’t.”

He bites his bottom lip, staring at his ex-boyfriends in disbelief. When our eyes lock, he doesn’t look away. We stay likethis for a moment, then he gives me the slightest nod. “And the part about adopting them? Did you mean that?”

I give him a look that asks if he’s serious, because the answer is right in front of him. My boys are latched onto me like cuddly koalas, showing no sign of letting go in the near future. Of course that’s what I want. I want them to be a part of me forever. For this bond to strengthen each passing day. I stroke Bennet’s back, trying to comfort him.

“I meant every word I said.” Turning to Benji, I beam at him as I lean down and kiss his forehead, then Bennet’s. “I love you both, and I want this with you. I want this to be our forever.”

Tears well in Benji’s eyes. “You’ll really adopt us? I was just teasing when I mentioned it, that time.”

“All jokes come from a place of truth. You want this just as much as I do. Please don’t lie to me again—not when it’s about our future.” I lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think I’ll be around long enough for polyamorous marriage to be legalized, especially with that bastard in the oval office, so this is our best shot at forging some form of life together. This is the closest we’ll get. If it’s not something you boys want, we can just keep things the way they are now, but I’d love to have something that ties us all together, legally.”

Benji’s jaw trembles. “I want that too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you to be my dad. My real dad.”

I’m too worried to look at Tatum, because even though Benji has shared this sentiment a few times, I know how deranged it might sound to someone unfamiliar with our dynamic. Still, my boy is staring at me with big dreamy eyes, and I can’t stop myself from saying, “I already am, Benjamin.”

As Benji buries his face in my chest, holding on as tight as his arms will allow, I finally look up at Tatum. He’s staring at us intently, and I can see the little wheels spinning in his head.

“Okay,” he finally says. “You win.” He stands from Abi’s lap and makes his way across the living room, kneeling in front of us. He places one hand on Bennet’s back, and the other on Benji’s hip. “Guys?” Bennet and Benji slowly turn their heads. Tatum’s forcing a smile, and I can tell he’s still not entirely comfortable with the situation, but the fact he’s willing to push those comfort levels makes my heart swell. “Don’t hurt him.”

The Bens nod, still staring at Tatum like he might rip the rug out from under them and tell them this has all been a colossal joke. He doesn’t though. He just stares at them, waiting for my boys to give them their word.

“Promise,” they say together.

“Because if you do, there will be no hoping you’ll cry or hoping you’ll die. I’ll kill you myself.” My Bens stare at him with fearful eyes, and I’m about to tell Tatum he’s never allowed to threaten their lives again, but I don’t get the chance. A smile flashes on his face, and Tatum leans closer, locking us in a group hug.

Family. That’s what this feels like. It’s what it’s felt like since the day I met my Bens. Part of me has always known they belonged here, though I didn’t understand why. Now, nothing has ever felt so true. They’re my family, and I’m theirs.

We spend the rest of the afternoon curled up on the sofa watching Tatum’s favorite reality show. The Bens nuzzle next to me, pointing out various Real Housewives and explaining why they hate them. Apparently, Tatum’s lord and savior, Lisa Rinna, is a very divisive individual, and my boys almost come to blows when Bennet says the woman has the moral compass of a dog in heat. Luckily, I manage to defuse the situation by offering to take my sons on another trip to Build-A-Bear tomorrow. Twoof my boys have bears, proudly proclaiming my love for them, and I want my other boys to have the same. My Tatum and my Abdulov.

When the day is done, Tatum and Abi take Tatum’s old room, and the Bens and I take the big bed. My boys have been through hell today, so I rest on my side, allowing them to use my hip as a pillow of sorts. There’s a bit more padding around my midsection than there used to be, and I just hope it’s soft enough to keep them comfortable. There’s not a stitch of clothing between us, giving me a delicious view of my boys’ smaller-than-average cocks. I alter between stroking Bennet’s cheek and running my fingers through Benji’s hair. Neither of them seems all that tired, but even if they were, I doubt we’d get much sleep with all the noises Tatum and Abi have been making for the last half hour. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard so many four-letter words in all my life.

Bennet looks up at me with a warm expression. “I don’t want to work at the agency again.”

“No?” I ask, stroking his cheek. “And what would you like to do, little man?” He’s nibbling his lip like he’s trying to work up the courage to tell me what he wants, but with our twin-slash-triplet powers stronger than ever, I’m pretty sure I know what he wants. “Can I tell you what I’d like you to do?”

“You can tell me anything,” he says, rubbing his hand over my heart. “If you want me to go back to the agency, I will. Or if there’s another job you think we’d be okay at, we’ll do that, instead.”

“That isn’t what you want though, is it?”

He shakes his head. “The world’s scary and people are awful. Whatever you think we should do, we’ll listen. It’s just . . .”

“Here’s what I think,” I say, glancing over at Benji. He’s staring up at me like he might fall asleep at any second. “I’d like you boys to stay home—for now, at least. Let me treat youfor a while. If you decide you want to find another job in a few months, we can broach the subject then, but for now, I don’t want all this pressure on you. It’s weighing you down.”

“That makes you sound like a sugar daddy,” Benji points out.

“Does that have to be a bad thing? Why can’t I take care of the men I love? I have the means, and I have the desire to do so. You boys have hurt for too long. You deserve to relax. Please, let me do this for you.”

My Bens share a glance, and it’s one I can read a mile off.

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