Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“Fit?”

Pac’s voice sounds as lovely as ever, even if a bit tinny coming from the speaker of Fit’s far-too-old iPhone. Pac doesn’t call him like this often; if anything, Fit is the one who randomly calls Pac during the day just to hear his voice. The moment he hears Pac’s voice, all his thoughts are only of him, making it easy to forget the stresses of running your own business. A pleasant buzz reverberates through Fit’s head like a bug trapped indoors on a sunny day. 

“Well, hello handsome! ” Fit attempts to sound seductive, sultry even, but he’s out of practice. His voice comes out a little too eager than he’d like and far more cheerful than sinful, but Pac’s too distracted to notice. 

“Fit, I think you should come home.”

Pac uses his serious voice, which Fit has only heard twice before. The adrenaline coursing through Fit’s body at the sound of Pac’s voice shifts to a trail of ice, and Fit stands from his chair immediately, shutting his computer off and throwing anything he can reach into his bag.  

“Is everything okay? What’s going on? Is Ramon alright? Are you alright?” Fit is frantic; attempting to be calm only adds to the pressure to get the fuck home now, but his belongings keep toppling from his bag. 

“It’s okay. He’s fine—well, mostly fine. He isn’t hurt! His heart is just a little sad. He is very upset, Fit, and I don’t think I can do much in this situation. I think he needs his dad.”

Pac’s voice drops as he speaks, possibly nervous Ramon might overhear his conversation. This could also be the moment Pac realizes that whatever is going on between himself and Fit hasn’t yet evolved into the ‘instructions on caring for your roommate’s son when he’s sad, but you’re also semi-dating his dad’ phase. 

“I’m on my way; what happened?” Fit asks, stepping through his office door and searching to spot any of his employees. He waves Tina down, and she reads him like a book, quickly picking up on the fact that there is an emergency. 

“I’ll handle your clients. Go. I’ve got it,” Tina whispers as he passes by, mouthing ‘thank you’ over and over. 

“I picked him up from the party, and he was upset, I could tell,” Pac’s voice trails off a bit as he collects himself. “Ramon is always quiet when he’s upset and thinks too much. Once we got home, he started sniffling. Fit, I am so stupid. I thought he was sick, but he was crying. I’ve never seen Ramon cry like this before, you know? Bobby said something mean to him, and I don’t think he knows how to process it, and I don’t want to make any mistakes. I think you might be the only one who will understand.”

“I’ll be home in 10 minutes.”

Fit pushes open the gym doors, squinting into the sunlight and reaching reflexively into his bag for his sunglasses. It’s cold as hell but wonderfully sunny. Fit thought it was going to be a good day. The gym was relatively quiet for a weekend; Ramon was at a birthday party for a few hours, and Pac promised to pick Ramon up if Fit picked up dinner. He was looking forward to a relaxing evening with his boys. 

“Did you drive today?”

Fuck. 

“No, I walked. Shit. I’ll grab an Uber; it won’t be long.”

Quickly, Fit switches to his headphones and opens Uber, requesting whichever would get him home the fastest without breaking his bank account. There is a three-minute wait, and then it's a nine-minute drive with traffic—perfect. 

“Don’t stress too much, Fit. Ramon is in his room. He just needs to be alone. But Fit, he is very angry. He will scream, I think, so you should be ready. He is angry with you, but I don’t know why. He wouldn’t say what Bobby said, only that it was mean but also that you are the worst. I just- I’m sorry, Fit. I tried my best, but he is going to fight with you.”

The frantic nature of Pac’s words put Fit on edge. Pac sounds as if he’s on the verge of tears, and Fit wishes he knew how to make that stop as soon as possible. All he can do is get home and hopefully fix whatever went wrong today. 

“Pac, Pac. Breathe. Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I can deal with my kid's anger; it has to happen sometime. I'm not sure what I did, but we’re going to figure this out, alright? We’ll figure out what’s going on with him together, and it’ll be fine.”

Pac sighs, one of his deep, heavy sighs that Fit hates to admit he loves. Pac usually only sighs like this when he’s being dramatic and desperately wants something. This version isn’t nearly as cute, nor is Pac collapsing into his shoulder with this sigh like usual, which removes much of its appeal. Fit’s phone beeps at that moment, alerting him his Uber is turning the corner. 

“The Uber is pulling in. Do you want me to stay on the phone? I will; it’s totally fine.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Pac says softly. Fit can hear the exhaustion in his tone and the smile on his face. 

“Okay.” Fit asserts, pulling open the door and waving hello to the driver. “See you soon, Pac.”

“See you soon, big boy.”

Fit bolts from the Uber only minutes later, remembering just enough of his etiquette to thank the driver as he shuts the car door. He forgoes the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time despite the number of flights. He chuckles in annoyance as he yanks the door to his floor open, the handle bouncing into the wall behind. All these years of working out to keep his body in peak physical condition, and the only thing he’s used all this stamina for is running to console his son. His keys are in his hands as he approaches the door, carefully pushing it open as it’s secured in the lock. It’s silent, which in this household is more unnerving than anything.

“Hey guys, is anybody home?” Fit tries to keep his voice steady, monotone, and unwavering. 

“GO AWAY.”

Ah. Okay, so Ramon is mad. Fit’s not sure what’s happened, but he places his bag by the door, toes off his shoes, and quietly heads to Ramon’s bedroom. Peeking inside, Fit can see Ramon crying on his bed, a shell-shocked Pac sitting at his side, rubbing his back. 

“Hey bud. What’s happened?” asks Fit from the hall, willing to allow Ramon some space. 

“GO AWAY!”

“You know I can’t go away, Ramon. Not when you’re upset like this.” Fit’s heart is beating out of his chest with worry. He searches to think of what he might have forgotten, but nothing springs to mind. He’s been better at keeping a calendar now that he and Pac are whatever they are. Two kids mean two worlds colliding and twice as many excuses for children’s parties. Fit sent Ramon off with the outfit of his choice, a present, and a card for the birthday kid. He checked it all off his list. Hours ago, he didn’t have a problem in the world. 

“It’s all your fault!” Ramon’s voice sounds nearly raw from tears already, and it squeaks painfully as he attempts to shriek his last words. 

“It might be. If it is, maybe we can talk about it. What did I do, Ramon?” Fit’s trying to stay calm, but he’s panicking. Ramon has never behaved like this before, and it’s been years since Fit’s been afraid for his son. Neither of them has any idea how this works. 

“No.” Ramon is beginning to wear down, sounding more tired with every shout. 

“Ramon.”

“NO!” It’s a shriek accompanied by big, heaving breaths—the kind of panicked breathing Fit hasn’t heard from Ramon in years. A chill runs down his spine, and he enters the room. He remains a few feet away but close enough to look Ramon in the eye. 

“Ramon! We don’t scream at people, remember. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. But I need to know you’re okay, and I want to apologize if I did something bad. If you want to talk, let me know. I’m going to sit right here.” 

Fuck the stairs, this is Fit’s real test for stamina. How long can he last sitting on his son’s floor, watching his beautiful baby boy bawl his eyes out without knowing if there’s anything Fit can do to fix this? 

“I can’t,” Ramon’s voice drops, and he sniffles as he speaks.

“And why is that, Ramon?” Pac pipes in, seamlessly leaning into Ramon’s space to give him a sip of water. Ramon gulps it down with a satisfied ‘ah’ and smiles up at Pac before remembering he is very, very mad. 

“Because it’s mean and made me really mad, but I don’t want to make everyone else mad. And I don’t want to think about it anymore. Bobby is stupid. They’re all stupid, and Fit is stupid, and everyone sucks."

Well goddamn. 

Fit blinks at Pac as the two make eye contact over Ramon’s head. Fit thought he was following, but he’s unsure how he got pulled into this. He doesn’t want to make this worse, not if that’s something Ramon is afraid of, but Ramon is also very overwhelmed. Fit wishes he remembered more from the parenting books he took from the library years ago, but Ramon’s always been such a dream that he never considered arguing with his son. 

“Ramon? Nenê? What does your dad have to do with Bobby being mean? Did he say something mean about Fit? It’s okay to tell us; no one gets in trouble. We just want to make sure this can be fixed—or made better. Not super bad, okay?”

Ramon nods his head, lifting it a little but pausing to send a glare at Fit. Pac is just as lost as Fit, constantly looking up over Ramon’s head to try to read Fit’s reactions and determine if he understands what’s happening here. At first, Pac thought this was a familiar familial thing, something the two of them did once in a while, like he and Richas playing hide and seek, but this is something different. Pac’s not sure what’s brought it on, but Fit looks baffled, so someone must have gotten into Ramon’s head and upset him. Pac has no idea how this all connects. He’s just happy to know he’s not the only one utterly confused. 

“I was playing at the party, and Bobby told me I couldn’t play with him and Richas because. Um.” Ramon trails off, nervous ticks arriving. He steals a glance at Fit, still sitting peacefully on the floor, and shrinks into himself, not in fear but more like embarrassment. “He said only the people with two parents could play, and since Fit is alone, I can’t play with them for the game. And I said that it was stupid because his dads JUST got married!” 

Ramon’s small chest is quivering now, his voice upping in pitch. He’s upset, embarrassed, ashamed, and fighting back tears that are too big for his body. 

“But Bobby said it didn’t matter. And I said Pac lives with us too, but Bobby said it didn’t count, and then he pulled Richas away and, and,” Ramon sniffles again, fat tears running down his face, “Richarlyson just went with him! He looked sorry but he didn’t say anything, and I. I thought we were friends. Why would they say that? I wasn't being mean to them or anything!” Ramon’s voice is near a whisper. Fit is actively fighting the tears in his eyes from falling, and he can’t bear to look at Pac, or he’ll send himself over that edge. 

“So it’s all your fault, Fit!” Ramon spouts, wiping angrily at the wet marks on his face. “If you weren’t alone, I would still have Richarlyson as a friend! Why don’t you and Pac just get married or whatever?!” Ramon’s voice breaks as he breathes, turning to look up at Pac at his side. 

“Why can’t you be my parent, too? Richas gets to have all the parents to do fun things with, and Bobby has a mom, too! Why don’t I get to? We always have fun, but Bobby said it doesn’t count, and I only have Fit! And nobody else! It’s always just us, and, and, and, why isn’t that enough? What did I do wrong? I don’t want us to be lonely, Fit.”

Fit’s up in a shot, ambling toward Ramon’s bed to grab his precious little boy and hug him for days. His kid has his first bullying situation, and rather than fight, Ramon is worried about Fit. For a moment, Ramon fights it but relaxes his body a moment later. He's still stiff and full of rejection but is not fighting his father’s touch. 

“Oh, Ramon. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this today. You did a good job, my boy. Don’t worry about me, Ramon; I’m not lonely, and we’ve got each other.” Fit does his best to reassure Ramon, but this isn’t really his forte. He releases his son from his grasp and scoots back down the end of the bed to put some space between them. Ramon helps shove him away in defiance but notably leans against Pac’s personal space. 

“It’s still your fault,” Ramon says with a pout. “It’s still all your fault, and I’m still mad. Now you should go away and leave me alone.”

“Okay,” Fit says as he shifts off the bed, standing and centering himself. 

“I’m going to pick up dinner for us, but we are going to have a chat when I get back, young man. Do you understand me?”

Ramon nods, head still buried into Pac’s side. 

Fit stands and walks to the other side of Ramon’s bed to get closer to Pac. 

“You okay watching him for a bit?” Fit knows the answer, but it’s a good excuse as any to check in with Pac after the emotional tirade he witnessed. 

“Of course, of course. We’ll pick a movie to put on or somethings like that. Don’t worry about us.”

“I’m going to get food and run an errand beforehand,” Fit says, looking at Pac and hoping he understands what Fit is trying to imply. Pac raises a brow and dips his head, and Fit nods in return, knowing Pac is following his logic. 

“Do what you need to,” Pac assures. He has one arm wrapped around Ramon, carding through his hair, and shifts the other to grab at Fit’s own momentarily, squeezing his fingers once. It’s a move they’ve developed since their kiss on the balcony. They’re not ready to let Ramon and the world know what’s brewing between them; a small squeeze is all they need to let the other know they’re there and not alone. It’s just enough reassurance for Fit, and he gathers himself to head out. Before he leaves the room, he pauses in the doorway for a moment, stopping to look back. 

“Ramon, I love you. You didn’t do anything wrong. Thank you for telling us what happened. It was very brave of you. I’ll be back soon, and we can talk about it.”

Ramon mumbles something as Fit walks away, and although he may not have heard it, Fit is assured everything will be okay. 

Fit exits the condo in a rush, shoving his keys into his pocket as he leaves. Fit judges his choices for a moment, opting to blow off anger and adrenaline by taking the daunting flight of stairs down rather than waiting for the elevator. It isn’t a long journey, but long enough to work out some emotions bubbling inside. Truthfully, Fit knows Ramon loves him and didn’t mean what he said, but the fact that those ideas were put into his head is a rude awakening that his boy is growing up. Life will start throwing more at him every day that passes, and Fit has to learn how to handle these situations before they come up again. 

Reaching the lobby, Fit bursts through the door and heads into the biting January air. It’s not snowing yet, but the smell of it permeates Quesadilla Island. It figures it would snow or storm on an already stressful day. Barreling down the street, Fit follows the curves in the road and, without thinking, turns toward Roier and Cellbit’s home, his muscle memory firing on all cylinders.

Fit can hear laughter as he approaches the front door, steadying himself to control his emotions, keep his composure, and only express the facts. Bobby was being mean. Bobby probably didn’t understand how what he said could hurt Ramon. If he had to guess, he’d assume Bobby is so excited about having a new dad and brother he’s afraid of anything that might take them away, including another extended family member. Fit isn’t mad, at least not in a way he’d willingly express to his peers. He just needs Roier to talk to Bobby about other types of families. 

Fit presses the doorbell and steps back as it rings through the home. There’s a thud and more laughter, and Fit almost feels guilty for interrupting a family evening. 

Almost.

As he calms himself, he thinks of the tears in Ramon’s eyes as the shadow of a figure sends waves of darkness through the stained glass adorning the front door.

“Fit?” Roier’s cheerful voice peeps from behind the door, and Fit can just make out Roier’s profile through the small window. “Gatinho, it’s Fit!”

Roier opens the door with a smile and holds out his hand to give Fit a friendly shake. 

“Fit! Hey man, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you in a while!” Roier asks, dropping Fit’s hand and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hey Roier, I’m just peachy. I just came to talk to you about something important for a second—something that happened today with Bobby.”

“Bobby?! My Bobby?! He’s right here. What happened? What did he do?!” Roier asks. He stands at full attention and pulls the door slightly more closed to keep the boys from overhearing. 

Fit sighs, deciding to drop it all on Roier at once rather than try and sugarcoat it. 

“Pac picked Ramon up from the party today, and he was pretty upset. Real pissed at me, a lot of yelling and crying. Once we got him to settle down and explain himself, he said he was mad at me for not being married.” Fit sighs again, taking a breath before catching Roier’s eye. 

“Apparently, Bobby told Ramon his family isn’t as good because his dad isn’t married, and he didn’t want to play with Ramon because he only has one dad and not two parents. Ramon made it seem like Bobby pulled Richarlyson into it as well. He’s pretty pissed off that his friends excluded him for something he can’t control.”

“Ah. Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Cellbit? Can you come here for a minute? I think you should hear this.” Roier yells behind him before returning to look at Fit. “I’m fucking sorry about this, man, we will get it figured out.” 

“One sec!”

Fit hears another thump as Cellbit likely rolls off the couch. Disjointed phrases in Portuguese are heard from the living room, which Fit aptly recognizes from his own life. He’s almost sure Cellbit is warning the boys not to destroy the entire place in the two minutes he’s gone. Pac sounds the same when trying to tell Richas and Ramon to calm down.  

“Fit! Nice to see you, man. What’s going on?” Cellbit’s face is kind and softer than Fit has seen before. Cellbit slides into the open space next to Roier and drags an arm around his waist. Roier rolls his eyes out of Cellbit’s gaze, and Fit has to admit, even if he’s a bit upset right now, these two are annoyingly adorable. 

“Fit was just telling me about something that happened at Baghera’s today, at the party.” Roier’s voice is calm but serious, and Cellbit straightens up as he realizes something is wrong. 

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a good thing if you’re here right now. No offense.” Cellbit sighs. “What happened?”

“I was just explaining it to Roier, but Pac picked up Ramon, and he was an angry, shouty mess. Hates me a lot right now, which isn’t the issue, but it's still a bit hurtful. Anyway, after he got the shouting out of his system, he said Bobby informed him that his family wasn’t as good as Bobby’s because his dads are married, but since I’m alone, Ramon couldn’t play the game with them.”

“Fucking-fuck. Shit Fit, I am so sorry this happened.”

“Listen, I know it’s not something you two instilled in him or that he had any malicious intent. I think he’s just a kid who is really fucking excited about his new family, is all. His excitement might just be, uh, manifesting in ways that, y’know, aren’t the best?”

Fit is unsure how he’s supposed to express how ridiculously upset he is without coming off like an asshole. All he can hope for is for Roier and Cellbit to understand that he’s trying to help them by informing them of what’s happening between their kids. 

“Sorry. Honestly, I’ve never had to do this before. Ramon’s never really been that upset or shouted at me like that, so…I don’t know. I just felt like I had to come over and say something, just so you know, in case he says it to one of the other kids with a single parent. I can take it, but I think the kids can’t. Shouldn’t.”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, Fit. I understand you completely. I promise I will talk with Bobby.”

“We’ll talk to Bobby AND Richas. Tonight.” Cellbit says with a nod to Roier. “They’re brothers now, but they should know not to treat their friends like this, even if they are excited. Sorry about this, Fit.”

“No worries, guys. Being a dad is fucking confusing sometimes. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Ramon will get an apology next time he sees Bobby, I promise. You’re a good dad, Fit. Thank you for coming over to say something. I’m glad you did.”

“Mhm. Same. Is Ramon okay? Poor little guy must be exhausted if he was screaming that much.” It’s nice of Cellbit to inquire about Ramon, at least. Fit allows himself to relax a bit, just enough to sigh and drop his stone-faced expression. 

“He’ll be alright. He usually doesn’t get super emotional, so I think he’s trying to figure out what to do with all these feelings. Pac’s with him, which is good. He usually calms down a lot when Pac’s with him.”

“Good, good. He couldn’t get a better person to be with if we tried. Pac is great with people having an emotional breakdown; I know from experience. He’ll know how to handle things.”

“Exactly, Ramon will be good. And you will have to be good to Pac for helping, eh?” Roier shoots Fit a sly smile that takes Fit by surprise. He hadn’t prepared for this—he wasn’t expecting someone to rib him lightly, so he has no response saved up. Instead, he stammers a few times before Roier’s smirk breaks into a smug smile, and Fit gives up, looking up to the sky and smiling himself.

“Yeah, Roier, sure, sure.” Fit shakes his head as he looks back down, knowing he’ll hear about it in a few days as it makes its way around the Island rumor mill. Despite everyone’s side-eye and constant cajoling, he and Pac have yet to tell anyone about their situation. It’s far too new for the kids to know about, and together, they realized if they did tell any of their friends, their mouths would run so quickly the kids would hear within hours. It is better to wait and make sure this is worth committing to before upheaving all their lives. 

Still, Fit can’t help but smirk, assured in the knowledge that everyone they know is rooting for them. He feels proud that he was right; Pac is the perfect man for him. 

“What?! I’m just saying, we aren’t blind, you know? Go home, Fit, take care of your man. And your boy, too.” Roier’s tone is as playful as ever. Despite his comedic personality, there are few people on the island Fit trusts more to come through on their promises than Roier. If he says he’ll talk to the boys and get it sorted, Fit has all the confidence in him. 

“Yeah, Fit. Get a bottle of wine or something to share with Pac after Ramon goes to sleep. You both deserve a little treat after dealing with this shit, I know from experience,” Cellbit says with a sigh, looking to Roier. 

“The first time those two fought,” Roier says, jerking a thumb toward the two boys inside, “I thought Gatinho and I would never work out. And now look! Everything will be fine. Go talk to Pac, if you know what I mean.” Roier’s laughter is heavy with insinuation, and Fit doesn’t miss Cellbit trying to hold back his own giggles. 

“Okay, okay. Maybe I should pick up some wine. We ran out last time after…well. You know how it goes, don’t you guys?” Fit smirks right back at the pair, quirking an eyebrow as Cellbit shoots him a quizzical look. 

“Wait…Fit?! What are you saying?” Cellbit questions, turning to look between Fit and Roier a few times. “We were just teasing! Are you two-”

“Nothing, nothing at all. Catch you guys later!” 

Fit takes his leave, nimbly hopping off the porch and heading down the street without a second glance, leaving a confused and amused Cellbit and Roier in his wake. 

The walk home lets him think about the situation and how to handle it. Roier and Cellbit will talk with the boys, and the boys will apologize to Ramon. Ramon will accept their apology out of politeness and also because he craves the approval of those he loves dearly. He’s getting better at remembering he doesn’t need to give gifts to his friends to get them to like him, but this incident might slow his progress. Then again, when Fit worries about things like this, he goes to Pac, who always says the same thing. 

“He’s eight.”

Sometimes, Fit forgets he’s raising a little boy and that he’s allowed to be a kid and make mistakes. Fit always wants to protect him so badly, but he can’t. Until Pac became so ingrained in their lives, Fit thought his protectiveness was a character flaw. Now he can see he’s just being a good dad who puts his son’s well-being above his own, and it’s okay to embrace that. Fit’s a good dad, and Pac’s told him enough times he’s finally starting to believe it. 

Distraction is what Fit needs. He crosses the street as he approaches Ramon’s favorite take-out spot and places his usual order, complete with dessert for a treat. Ramon may be pissed at him, but they all need to eat after a day like this. Hopefully, Ramon can get a good night's sleep after he’s had some food, and Fit can finally sit with Pac and tell him everything he needs to know about why Ramon and Fit are the way they are. 

The food is a quick affair, and Fit is on the move less than twenty minutes later. He has no idea what he will come home to or whether Ramon will still be upset, but he has to get to the bottom of Ramon’s worries and talk to Pac about defining what they are. Ramon has to know soon, and Fit needs to know Pac is in this for the long haul. Luckily, Fit’s worries are exclusively tied to his son. Somehow, he knows Pac will understand. 

Fit pauses as he reaches the condo and enters the lobby. It’s been a long day, and he’s ready for the elevator. 

Inside the condo, things have calmed immensely. Ramon relaxes once Fit has left, though the guilt over potentially making his dad sad is clearly eating away at him. Pac convinces Ramon to wash his face and put on his pajamas so he can be ready when Fit returns with dinner, and Ramon agrees without much of a fight. Settling on the couch, Ramon curls into Pac’s side yet again as Pac navigates the TV to find something lighthearted that would steal Ramon’s attention. Magic School Bus it is. Ramon’s enthralled by the episode, making small comments under his breath. Despite all of Fit’s insecurities about his relationship with Ramon, he never seems to notice Ramon only does it because Fit does, too. 

Pac has dealt with situations like this before. Richarlyson is the most perfect kid a father could ask for, but his big personality tends to get him into mischief. Pac’s used to the yelling and crying occasionally, but not from Ramon, of all kids. He’s the kind of kid older adults would describe as ‘mature-for-his-age,’ which, in Pac’s vast experience, has come to mean ‘forced to grow up too quickly.’

Pac doesn’t want this for Ramon, but it’s hard to deny it’s already happened in some degree. He isn’t quite sure what Ramon went through before Pac met Fit, but there are small indications that they had a very different life before the island. Pac trusts Fit implicitly. If Pac needs to know anything about his past or Ramon’s life, Fit will tell him, and Pac has to trust in that. 

That doesn’t mean Pac doesn’t notice things. 

Ramon and Fit’s relationship is much more formal than most other parents in town, but it doesn’t manifest in coldness. The opposite, really, Pac muses as he looks down at Ramon pressed into his side. Ramon loves his dad so much it’s blinding. Ramon and Fit look at one another as though they have a secret bond no one but them will ever understand, even if they’re not as loud about it. 

Ramon has nightmares. Fit is in his room before Ramon can cry out for him every single time. 

Pac first noticed it before any bonding took place between the three. Feeling awkward in the condo when they were all in the same space, Pac often worked late at night in the living room or on his bed with the door open. He watched as Fit ran to Ramon’s room a few times after a particularly loud nightmare, staying until Ramon was once again asleep before trodding to his own room. 

Fit’s dedication to his son is heartwarming and inspiring. It makes Fit even more attractive in Pac’s eyes if that’s even possible at this point. 

Ramon doesn’t call Fit Dad. 

Pac has been living here for months, and he’s never heard Ramon say anything about it. He only ever refers to Fit with his name, no affectionate nickname or parental title. Always just Fit. Pac has interacted with them both together and one-on-one hundreds of times, and he’s never heard an inkling as to why that is, especially considering Fit isn’t much of a man for formalities. There’s a difference between being polite and being formal, and Fit always stays just on the correct side of polite, even when it isn’t warranted. Still, Pac knows Fit would never ask Ramon to call him by his name, which makes Pac assume it was a Ramon choice, but that doesn’t compute either. It’s baffling, but Pac accepts it for what it is. 

One episode of Magic School Bus ends, and Pac grabs the remote to start the next without contemplation. Ramon can zone out and enjoy his show all night if he wants, and Pac will be right here to keep him company. Plus, this episode is where Ms. Frizzle turns into a bat, so Pac wouldn’t turn it off even if Ramon wasn’t interested. 

Pac and Ramon get about ten minutes into the episode when the familiar scratch of a key in the lock breaks their concentration. Ramon looks to the door with a panic and then to Pac. 

“Fit?”

“This means we can have dinner, Ramon! Phew, I was getting hungry, weren’t you?” Pac smiles, encouraging Ramon to sit up for Fit’s return. 

Ramon nods, turning back to watch the door swing open. Fit walks through, arms laden with plastic bags from Ramon’s favorite take-out spot. He seems less tense than when he left, and Fit smiles as he enters, testing the room's vibe and how Ramon will respond to his returned presence. 

“You’re back?!” Ramon’s voice is small, squeaky, and laced with confusion, unlike his usual loud, well-spoken self. 

“I am! I got dinner, just like I said. If you’re not hungry, that’s okay, Ramon, but you need to have something to eat before you sleep, my boy. You deserve a good rest,” Fit says, lifting the take-out bags higher. “Figured it was a good night to treat ourselves, so I got your favorite.”

It took Pac a while to see it, but Fit shows his love differently than he’s used to. Pac is used to love being platitudes, kind words that do all the heavy lifting. Before Fit, love was the occasional gesture, a few compliments here and there, and a willingness not to leave. Fit is so different. Pac spends an entire night googling what love feels like as if it were a mild medical condition he needs to understand rather than a feeling he needs to put trust in.

Fit compliments Pac, but it’s never to a self-serving end. Fit includes Pac in everything, even running to Target and picking up some forgotten groceries. Fit buys Pac’s favorite take-out anytime he’s had a bad day and always does the dishes without being asked. Fit brings home little things for Pac that he sees when he’s out in town. At this point, there’s half a drawer of writing utensils in Pac’s desk, all handed to him by Fit, who swears Pac had a pen dying on him this week and figured you could never have enough backup pens. Pac has enough backup pens to last the rest of his professional career. 

The moments are small, too, things only for Pac and Fit to see. Pac wakes at 3am feeling uncomfortable but warm, realizing Fit has thrown a quilt over him as he sleeps on his drawing table, working late into the night. Fit never wakes Ramon and Pac up when they fall asleep on the couch, fully aware they both need the rest they constantly fight off. Fit tries more Brazilian recipes, sometimes with Pac’s guidance and sometimes just for fun. Fit changed his work schedule to free up his Fridays since that’s always Pac’s standing day with Richarlyson. Pac assured him he didn’t need to, but Fit insisted he stay free, just in case.  Pac has never felt more seen than he does in this house. 

“Oh, good. Um, I thought you might not come back. I thought maybe you’d leave, too.”

Pac’s eyes widen as he looks down at the small boy at his side, too shocked to ask Ramon to clarify. Who left him with the impression that this could be a fear? Fit’s never mentioned anything like this before, and Pac files it away for a conversation later. 

“What?” Fit places the bags of food down on the counter and kicks off his shoes, stumbling to his son’s place on the couch. Fit kneels in front of him so he can hold his eyeline. 

“Ramon, I am never going anywhere, okay? It’s you and me forever, remember, my child? I will always come back for you, no matter what. I’m sorry your friends were mean to you today, and I’m sorry if I haven’t been able to give you the kind of family you want yet. But I will never leave you, my boy. I promise.”

Ramon nods, barely noticeable. 

“There is no one and nothing I love more on this Earth than you, Ramon. One little fight is not going to push me away, okay?”

Ramon nods more aggressively now, the tears spilling again. 

“Please don’t leave us,” Ramon cries out. “I’m sorry I was so mean, Fit.”

Fit scoops Ramon up into his arms before Ramon can continue his thought. Fit cradles him close, running one hand up and down Ramon’s back to soothe him. Pac slowly drags his eyes away from Ramon to check how Fit is faring. His ears are red, and his neck looks a little splotchy, a tell-tale sign that he’s emotional. Fit doesn’t cry often and rarely allows himself to show any tears. What he does do, however, is hold it in until his body fights him, reddening his face, neck, and chest as though his body is attempting to communicate its need for comfort to the world. Fit not might be able to say it, but Pac can read him perfectly. Red splotches mean Fit is emotional; all Pac wants to do is wipe away the tears that escape.

If Fit feels pained watching the scene before him, Pac is fairing just as severely. Again, Pac finds himself stuck between Fit, the man he loves, the man he’s kissed, the man who Pac is sure loves him too, and his wonderful little boy, Ramon, who has no idea that his dad and Pac are as good as dating. It isn’t time to tell everyone, not when they haven’t had a proper date yet. Fit wouldn’t allow it, and Pac knows better than to ask. Fit, for all his claims of being touch-starved, out of practice, and bad at expressing emotions, is a hopeless romantic. Pac adores the juxtaposition of this strong, confident man brought to his knees because Pac brings him a flower on a random weekday afternoon. 

Never in Pac’s life did he feel more powerful than standing before Fit, rose in hand. 

Pac’s simple, natural gestures seem like defining life moments to Fit every single time. Pac brings Fit a rose? Fit blushes for hours. Pac cooks breakfast for him and Ramon? Fit compliments him on it for days. Pac flirts with Fit in public for a moment? Pac considers if their living room needs a Victorian fainting couch with all the swooning Fit does. It’s wonderful and sweet, and Pac wants to scream at everyone he knows that this man chose him. Of all the people in the world, he chose Pac. 

Pac would choose Fit and Ramon hundreds of times over. Again and again, until he couldn’t speak, he would always choose these two, he thinks to himself as he watches Ramon cry in his father’s arms. 

Fit shifts Ramon’s hair out of the way and looks through it to catch Pac’s eye. They stare one another down for what feels like ages before Fit’s hand leaves Ramon to reach up and out for him—reaching for Pac to pull him into this family hug. 

Pac accepts, pushing himself off the couch and taking Fit’s open hand as he falls to his knees. Ramon shifts without looking, knowing exactly where he slots against Pac’s torso, small arms squeezing both he and Fit for dear life. 

Pac can’t help but press a kiss into Ramon’s hair, reassuring him that he’s not alone. Yes, he has Fit, but he has Pac, too, and no matter what happens, Pac will always be there for him. 

A slight bit of pressure startles Pac, and he flushes once he realizes his situation. Fit mirrors his kiss to Ramon onto Pac, leaving a kiss right above Pac’s ear. Fit rests his head against Pac’s a moment later, and Pac wishes he could find this as exceedingly romantic as it is, but he feels one of Fit’s tears fall onto his ear. In all the chaos with Ramon’s outburst, Pac almost forgot how badly Ramon’s words may have hurt Fit and swears then to ensure Fit has a good night’s sleep and a proper kiss to go with it. 

Fit shifts back onto his heels, slowly letting go of the hug. He reaches down to wipe some tears from Ramon’s cheeks, and Ramon blushes, attempting to hide his face. 

“No hiding from me. Let's get you cleaned up and ready for dinner, okay? We can talk if you want.” 

Ramon looks up at his dad and allows himself to smile just a bit, enough to satiate Fit’s heart that his son isn’t terribly angry with him anymore. A moment later, Ramon reaches up and repeats the motion to Fit, using his tiny hand to wipe away the remnant of tears left on Fit’s face. 

“Sorry, Fit. I didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t like it when people are mad at me.”

“I know, my boy. I know. You didn’t make me sad, don’t worry. I appreciate you trying to keep me safe, but these are big emotions we can talk about, okay? Anytime you want to talk about anything, I am here to listen—even if it makes me sad or upset. And if you want to talk and you don’t want to talk to me, I’m sure Pac is more than willing to listen to you as well, alright, kiddo?”

“Sim, nenê. You can talk to me about any things. I will always listen.”

“Are you guys gonna get married one day? Like Bobby’s dads?”

Fit coughs, choking on air as he processes Ramon’s inquiry. 

“Right, um. Well, when I meant to talk about anything, I wasn’t expecting it right now, but we can talk about this now if you want to, Ramon, and if Pac is okay with it.”

Fit looks to Pac imploringly. Pac’s let Fit navigate the pace of everything in their relationship since he moved in. If it were up to Pac, he probably would have screamed their status from the rooftops, but he was waiting on Fit’s confirmation. This seems to be it. 

Pac smiles and nods, happy to finally move forward. 

“Ramon, your dad and I are not ready to get married. We are very different than Bobby’s dads. But that doesn’t mean it will never happen. We’re just a different type of family to them, that’s all. If we decide to do anything like that in the future, we will talk to you and Richarlyson about it first, okay?”

“Okay,” Ramon says, attempting to hide his smile. “Wait.”

Ramon’s head turns to look at the adults in the room. 

“Does that mean you guys are dating? Can you really be my Pai now, Pac!? This is so cool!!!!” Ramon grabs Pac’s shoulders, shaking him in any direction he can. Ramon isn’t hiding his smile anymore, laughing as he watches Pac pull faces as he moves. 

“I’m glad you think so, Ramon. Pac and I are figuring it out, okay? Baby steps. We haven’t told anyone yet; you’re the first one to know our little secret.” Fit looks to Pac and winks as Ramon releases him from his grasp. Soon, Pac smiles and blushes at Fit’s words and Ramon’s notable excitement. 

“Ramon, can you do me a favor? Just for me?”

“Of course!”

“I like your dad so much, Ramon! It’s very important to me that we take time to figure things out, okay? If you can, please don’t say anything about us dating until we speak to Richarlyson first. Is that okay? I would like to make sure both of our boys know before anyone else finds out.”

“MY LIPS ARE SEALED! I promise Pac, I’m really good at keeping secrets. I can even pinky promise!” Ramon thrusts the pinky of his right hand into Pac’s face, and Pac wraps his own around Ramon’s in turn.

“Good job, thank you, Ramon.”

“Now, I think it’s time you get washed up for dinner, okay? We can keep watching, uh? Magic School Bus? Is that what you guys were watchin’? We can have dinner in front of the TV tonight, alright Ramon? But then it’s bedtime right after; you’ve had a very long day.”

“Ok Fit!”

Ramon runs to the bathroom to wash his hands as Pac and Fit shift to stand, rolling out their aching muscles. 

“Not how I necessarily imagined telling him, but it works all the same,” Fit mutters, turning to face Pac head-on. Fit pulls Pac into his chest, resting his head against Pac’s own. “What a fucking day.”

Pac returns Fit’s earlier motion, angling his head to press a kiss to Fit’s head. 

“You handled that very well, Fit. You are an amazing dad.” Pac can feel Fit stiffen against him, indicating Fit is embarrassed. “You kept your cool and communicated very well, and Ramon is so happy. You were right to tell him. He deserves to know now that we’re…you know.”

“Dating?” Fit’s voice is magic to Pac’s ears. Having Fit speak into his ear like this sends a massive shiver through him, one he couldn’t hide even if he tried his best. 

“Yes. We are dating now. It’s been going well so far, right? You’re happy?”

“Sim,” Fit all but hums in Pac’s ear. He knows what he’s doing, the bastard. 

“I’m so fucking happy Pac, you have no idea.”

“I mean,” Pac says, pulling away from Fit’s head to look him straight on, “I think I have some idea.”

Fit laughs, a genuine, honest laugh that lights up his entire face. Fit’s smile will always be Pac’s kryptonite. Only a second later, Pac pulls Fit in for the kiss he’s been waiting to give all day. 

It’s soft and sweet, a kiss to reassure rather than romance. It’s a slight press of the lips to the other, a lovely moment before Pac pulls away. Fit whines for a moment, so quiet it’s nearly unhearable, but Pac has become a master at picking out Fit’s noises. Pac goes in again, forgoing Fit’s lips for his face in general, pressing a kiss above both eyes and following it with a small series of pecks to Fit’s cheekbones. Pac can feel the heat in Fit’s face as he blushes beneath Pac’s ministrations and relaxes into his arms. The fact that Pac can make Fit fall apart so easily with just a few kisses floods Pac with pride. 

Too often, he imagines what Fit would be like if Pac were more aggressive with him, allowing his hands and mouth to wander more than they’d dared with an eight-year-old at home. 

“Ramon needs a sleepover soon,” Pac mumbles against Fit’s lips, kissing him again. Fit laughs in response and winds his arms from Pac’s waist to the small of his back, resting there as Pac leans further into Fit’s space. It’s a slow, romantic kiss that would quickly develop into more if a small voice was already asleep rather than standing in the doorway, groaning. 

“I dunno about you guys dating if you’re gonna be gross and kiss all the time.”

Ramon’s voice breaks their makeout session, and both turn to face him with embarrassment. To his credit, Ramon looks far more amused than upset, rolling his eyes at them both before stomping to the kitchen for his plate. 

“That will take some getting used to.”

“Mhm, you think?” Pac snarks, smiling and rolling his eyes. He grabs Fit’s hand and drags him to the kitchen. “I’m starving! I’m wasting away here, Fitche; get to work!”

One dinner and three episodes of Magic School Bus later, Ramon is on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. 

“Hey Ramon, we can watch more tomorrow, alright, bud? You gotta stop falling asleep on Pac,” Fit groans, shifting from his seat on the couch to slide his arms under Ramon’s sleepy form. Fit lifts Ramon like he weighs as much as the pens he brings home for Pac. Fit hoists Ramon into his arms and sets off for the bedroom, Pac rising to follow along. 

Fit stops at the side of Ramon’s bed, waiting for Pac to step past and pull back Ramon’s covers. Fit plops him down like always, and Ramon still laughs despite his sleepy state. Pac leans over and kisses Ramon on the head, wishing him a good sleep. He sidesteps Fit, who takes his place and does the same. 

“G’night Pai Pac. G’night dad.”

Fit freezes in place at Ramon’s words, and Pac looks back and forth between them. Fit reacts like he’s never heard the word leave Ramon’s mouth, which answers one of Pac’s questions. 

“Ramon…” Fit trails off, kneeling to look at Ramon more clearly. The pair are cast in pale light. Aside from the light filtering down the hall, a small nightlight is the only thing that allows Pac to make out the expression on Fit’s face. 

“It’s okay, Fit. I know you said I don’t have to, but I want to.”

Fit looks to the ground and shakes his head a few times, taking a deep breath or two. He’s fighting back his emotions again, and Pac shifts forward just enough to put his hand on Fit’s shoulder. Fit’s gaze never leaves the floor beneath him, but his hand snakes up, grabbing Pac’s fingers and squeezing. 

“I’m glad, Ramon. You let me know if that changes.”

Ramon smiles sleepy-eyed at his father, and Pac takes it as his cue to leave. He squeezes Fit’s shoulder twice in quick succession and starts to make his way out of the room. 

“Not all the other kids call their parents mom and dad, and I know you said it’s okay not to say it, but I dunno. I think I want to now,” Ramon admits nervously. “It’s kind of nice having a dad that I remember.”

“Ramon,” Fit’s voice breaks as he says his son’s name. “ I’m so proud to be your dad. You are the best fucking kid, Ramon. The absolute best.”

Ramon beams back, alight with praise. 

“You’re pretty okay, too, Dad Fit.”

Fit barks out a laugh he’s sure Pac can hear from wherever he wandered to. He appreciates Pac giving him this moment alone. If Fit had to date again, he’s glad he’s dating another father. Pac understands moments like this in a way few others would, making Fit love him that much more. 

“Get some sleep now, my child. We’ll do something fun tomorrow, all three of us, okay?”

Ramon neglects to respond, already sound asleep with Meathead clutched between his arms. Fit pushes the hair off his head and watches him sleep momentarily, overwhelmed by his love for this kid. He tucks more of the blanket under Ramon’s sleeping form so he stays nice and warm and backs out of the room, leaving the door just a smidge open in case of emergency. 

Now, to tell Pac everything.

Pac is more than happy to leave the room to allow Fit and Ramon some time alone together after what seems to be a shift in their dynamic. They wouldn’t push him away if he joined, but they’ve both had a long, emotional day and need a moment of quiet as a family. In the meantime, Pac does what he always does when he’s anxious: he makes himself useful. Pac heads to the kitchen and finishes the last of today’s dishes, only pausing to fill and turn on the kettle. Fit prefers a dandelion tea on stressful days, so Pac gets it going, already knowing Fit will want one for their discussion. 

For the first time in his life, Pac isn’t scared knowing he and Fit are about to have a serious conversation. In every other relationship, serious discussion meant something was wrong, and almost every time, it was Pac’s fault. This time, Pac knows there’s no one to blame for anything that happened today. Bobby, perhaps, but he’s a little kid with a new lifestyle to accept. Any kid would lash out when their world turns upside down, and Pac hopes Roier and Cellbit check in on how he’s coping with all the changes. 

Fit enters the kitchen a few minutes later, red-faced and worn out but looking lighter. His eyes are shining positively despite being red-rimmed from crying.

“What a fucking day,” Fit says, walking up to Pac and winding his arms around him. “Thank you for being here. You have no idea how much it helped both of us to have you here. I’m sorry you had to deal with this too, but I’m so thankful I wasn’t alone.”

There’s that patented ‘I’m not good with emotions’ honesty from Fit. He really has no idea how good he is at these things, but acceptance takes time, Pac presumes. Until then, Pac will keep hammering the point home. 

“Thank you for letting me be here. I wanted to give you guys a little space before Ramon went to sleep; I hope that was okay.”

“It was perfect, Pac. You’re perfect, Pac.”

Fit’s voice is far too honest as he sighs against Pac’s head and melts into his arms, allowing Pac to support most of his weight. 

“I’m so lucky.”

Pac is burning up now, flushed under the quiet compliments Fit casually dishes out. 

“What can I say? I’m a real catch,” Pac jokes, pulling away from the hug to catch Fit’s gaze. “I made you dandelion tea. I think it’s a good day for it, yeah?”

“Fuck yes. Thank you again.”

“Then we can sit on the couch and talk if you want. Don’t feel like you have to Fit! I know how you are. If you want to tell me some things, do it, but only because you want me to know. I am patient; I do not mind.”

“No, no! I mean, I appreciate that, Pac, I really do, but I think there’s a lot I should tell you. None of it is bad, really. Nothing will change anything between us, at least, I don’t think. But you should probably know some things about Ramon that I don’t tell the others.”

“Mhm. Go sit down. I’ll get the tea. Relax!” Pac orders and Fit follows his command with a sarcastic salute. Pac rolls his eyes with a grin, pouring hot water from the kettle and making Fit’s tea just how he likes it. Pac knows Fit well at this point, and though they haven’t had many pre-planned, deep discussions, Pac knows Fit struggles with emotions. If Fit is willing to be open with him and talk, the least Pac can do is make it easier for him to get the words out by ensuring he’s comfortable. 

Before Pac allows this discussion to begin, he aligns himself into the optimal position. Pac carefully assesses his seating options as he places the tea carefully atop their novelty coasters. Fit never likes to look anyone in the eye when he’s talking about how he feels, so Pac relaxes, shifting on the couch to lay across it with his head in Fit’s lap. It’s a pose they’ve only sat in a few times, but it’s clear that Fit has a real thing for Pac’s hair. His hands play with the strands flowing from where they’ve escaped Pac’s hair tie, and Pac can feel Fit’s body relax under him like a muscle massaged with the barest touch. If Fit can focus on something tactile, like playing with Pac’s hair, he might be able to get the words out. 

“Where do we even fucking start?” Fit asks, eyes closed. “What do I start with? How do you just start talking like this?” 

Pa’s mouth twitches slightly at Fit’s comments, ever amused. 

“I just say things. I don’t think people listen very much, but I just talk, and they stop me when they want to talk,” Pac replies honestly.

“I listen. I promise.”

“I know, Fit, I know.” Fit’s right arm rests between the back of the couch and Pac, and Pac pulls Fit’s hand onto his chest, leaving a kiss on his knuckles. 

“But I can ask you things, or you can pick a topic and go from there, or I can tell you what to talk about, I guess. What works best for you, Fit.”

Fit takes a deep, cleansing breath, eyes still closed. 

“Ask me a question. I need to rip the band-aid off.”

Pac thinks for a moment before he asks the first question that comes to mind. 

“Why does Ramon never call you dad?”

“Ah. Shit. Okay.”

“If it is too much or not my business Fit, I understand. It is just a thing I have noticed-”

“No, you’re fine. It. Uh. Yeah. Yeah, it makes sense to ask. It’s a bit different than most families, huh?” Fit says with an unamused chuckle and shake of the head. 

“So. Um,” Fit trails off, trying to find the right words. 

“Ramon doesn’t call me dad because he had a dad. Before me.”

Pac blinks a few times, tearing his gaze from the ceiling to hazard a glance at Fit. 

“Ramon is not my son.” Fit pants and Pac freezes for a moment, awaiting his next words. “Well, I mean, he’s my son, you know? That’s my fuckin boy in there. My son. But he’s not my DNA or whatever. I mean, he is, but he isn’t. Biological. He’s not my biological son.”

“That I understand; there are lots of kids like this, Fit. It isn’t a problem.” Pac wants to alleviate Fit’s worries, but he’s not sure why Ramon being adopted is so out of the ordinary. Half the kids around the island are here because of adoptions, and most parents are very open about it. 

“No, I mean. Yeah, Ramon’s adopted, but not in the way you think.” 

Pac raises his brows and catches Fit’s eye. He stays quiet, allowing Fit to explain before he jumps in with questions. 

“Technically. Uhm. Ramon is technically my nephew. He’s my brother’s kid, biologically, at least.”

“Oh? I see. You took in Ramon, then?” Pac doesn’t want to push more than Fit is comfortable with. There’s a time and place for fofoca and jokes, and it’s not right now when Fit is willingly vulnerable. 

“They, uh. They died. My brother and his wife. Ramon’s mom. There was an accident, and they didn’t make it, so Ramon was alone. He wasn’t with them when it happened, thank god. He was around three and a half then, so I think he was at daycare. Honestly, I can barely remember the details of what happened. There was just. A lot was going on, Pac. A lot.” 

Fit looks down at Pac, sees Pac’s slowly tearing eyes of concern, and forces himself to look away before he cries himself. 

“I don’t think they ever thought about what to do if something like this happened. Why would they, though, I guess? They were so young, and Ramon was just a little guy. There was no plan when it happened. No will or anything to guide us on their wishes. It was a whole thing, lots of uh, family shit, along with trying to bury them. But yeah, the dust settled, and I walked out of the funeral with Ramon, and suddenly I was a dad.”

When Pac contemplated how the conversation tonight would go, this was not it. Perhaps they’d talk about how to handle Ramon if something like this happened again, where the boundaries were for Pac as a roommate vs. Pac as a boyfriend caring for Fit’s son. He presumed they’d discuss the errand Fit ran before getting food or even how they would inform their mutual friends and family that they were now an official couple. This was not what he expected. 

Pac wracks his brain for the right words to say, something that will assure Fit that Pac is here for him while also acknowledging the impossible position he found himself in. 

Of course, Pac is only human, so he instead blurts out the first thought in his mind. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Yeah.”

“I. Oh wow. I’m sorry, Fit. I did not know anything about this! I’m sorry if I forced you to talk about sad things; I didn’t mean for that,” Pac cringes at his carelessness as he speaks. 

“No, Pac, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s you. I don’t mind talking about this shit if it’s you. Honestly, you’re the first person I feel comfortable talking about this with. Ramon and I had a little chat about this before, and he agreed it was okay to tell you. He doesn’t want everyone to know. Maybe he’ll be more open with it when he's older, but only a few people know right now.”

Pac grasps Fit’s hand again, pressing it to his lips over and over. He wishes he had the right words, but all he can offer is what comes to mind. 

“Thank you for trusting me, Fit. It means so much to me.”

“Yeah, well. Thank you for being so worthy of our trust.”

“You’re so cheesy.”

“Oh shut up,” Fit says, pulling his hand away from Pac’s chest to slap at it playfully. Seconds later, before Pac can react, Fit leans down and kisses the tip of Pac’s nose. 

“Every time I do that, you turn into a tomato,” Fit chuckles. “You’re a cute little Brazilian tomato.”

“I hate you,” Pac says, covering his face with his hands. “You are the worst.” Pac’s statements mismatch his tone as he laughs through his embarrassment. 

“Okay, tell me more. How did you get here? How did Ramon handle everything? Is that why you had a moment when Ramon called you dad tonight?” Pac files away more questions for later, not wanting to overwhelm Fit immediately. 

“I think when I gave you a condo tour - do you remember that?” Fit asks, his hands moving back to play with Pac’s hair. 

“Of course!”

“Right.  When I showed you around, I mentioned I have the smaller bedroom, right?”

“Sim. You said it was to be close to Ramons’. And the balcony.”

“Yes! So uh, I was careful to word it this way, but I think I said, ‘sometimes he wakes up at night looking for his dad.’”

“You did, I remember.”

“Well, yeah. There you go.”

Pac thinks for a moment, mulling the implications over in his mind. Oh fuck. Oh, poor, sweet Ramon. And poor, sweet Fit for being the father he never asked to be. 

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah.” 

“That must have been difficult at first,” Pac leads, carefully keeping his tone balanced. 

“Ramon…he was so young when it happened. He’s still so young, Pac. He’s just a kid; he was so much smaller back then. When it all happened, he was upset, but he doesn’t have a lot of memories of them either, which I think is almost as painful as losing them. He knows he had a dad. He knows he called him ‘dad,’ but he can’t remember ever doing it. When he first moved in with me, he would have a nightmare and call out for his dad, but then I would show up, and he just knew something wasn’t right. After a while, he asked if he could call me Fit. What are you supposed to say to that? I told him he could call me whatever he felt most okay with, and he went with just Fit.”

Pac stays quiet, allowing Fit’s hands to work through his waves while he lies listening. 

“It’s gotten better—a lot better, actually. I think. Without sounding too presumptuous, I think it helps to know you’re here, too. I think Ramon knows two people are here to keep him safe, which makes him feel less anxious. More like himself.”

“I will always be there for you and Ramon. I promise a hundred times,” Pac implores, catching Fit’s eye. 

“I know, Pac. I know.”

Pac uses the short break in conversation to sit up. This has been much deeper than he expected, and he feels that Fit deserves more of his attention if he wants it. He comes to a seated position and shifts, carefully angling his legs over Fit’s lap. His hands pull Fit’s own closer, and they move just enough for them to look at each other. Pac melts at the adoration in Fit’s eyes. Fit loves him; he knows it. He hasn’t said it; neither has, but Pac feels it. He would do anything for Pac and vice versa. Reaching down, Pac plays with Fit’s fingers, running his softer ones over the hard callouses on Fit’s from climbing at his gym. 

“So you took Ramon in all by yourself? And moved here? No one helped you? Not the rest of your family or friends or anything like that?”

“There weren’t many people to ask if I’m honest. My sister’s got her own kids, and my parents are grieving and too old to be chasing around a toddler. Ramon’s mom didn’t have much in terms of family, and none of their close friends were equipped for a child. I think Ramon’s social worker just worked through all the best-case scenarios for Ramon, and we all agreed.”

“That’s very brave. When we adopted Richarlyson, it was a decision we made together. We all got a say, and so did Richas. I still get worn out with him, and he has so many parents to help out. I am impressed you did this all by yourself. I’m sorry you had to, but I am proud of you.”

“Thank you, Pac.”

Despite the nature of the conversation, Pac leans in and brushes his lips lightly against Fits’. It’s less of a kiss of passion and more a way to say, ‘I’m here now. I’m proud you’ve made it here, too. Together, we can handle it all.’ Pac ends the kiss slowly but stays in place, enjoying the closeness. Fit’s nose brushes his, setting off a slew of giggles Pac can’t hold back. Leaning back, Pac turns to bring the attention back to the topic. 

“So you really did this all on your own, huh?”  

“Yeah, pretty much. Like I said, my sister has a whole gaggle of her own kids to look out for. My parents are too old to worry about a toddler destroying half their townhouse; there wasn’t really anyone left to take Ramon. Why would they have the time to help the one that did?”

“I get it, it just feels shitty of them. How did no one reach out to you? Friends? A partner? Boyfriend?” Pac asks. Truthfully, he and Fit have only spoken about exes in the broad sense that they’ve both had them, and they are no longer relevant to their lives. Pac’s alluded to past loves before but never a full relationship rundown. Thinking about it, he isn’t sure if he’s ever heard of Fit referencing past relationships. 

“I had. Uh. I don’t think we’ve really talked about this stuff before, so um. Sorry this is so awkward, I’m terrible at this shit.”

“No! No, Fit, you are doing so great. It’s okay; we don’t have to talk about our whole lives tonight. Whatever you want to do is fine with me. I will be here every other night, too.”

“You’re too good to me, Pac.” Fit smiles, taking one of Pac’s hands to ground himself. 

“I don’t mind you knowing, it’s just. Awkward. To talk about this stuff. All the times where things went bottoms up for me. But fuck it.” Fit sighs and shakes his head, hyping himself up to air all his dirty laundry to this perfect man on his couch.

“In terms of serious relationships, I’ve only had one. Spreen. It was a long time ago; looking back on it now, I realize it wasn’t a very healthy situation. We were off and on for a few years and finally got engaged. I think we both thought we were too fucked up to be with anyone else. As an older and wiser adult, I hate to say it, but in hindsight, I think the fact that we were engaged might have been a factor in why my family still doesn’t help out with Ramon much. Either way, that was up until I got Ramon. It’s just been the two of us since.”

“Up until? Do you mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, Pac.” Fit nods. “He couldn’t take the idea of Ramon being a real thing that would be with us the rest of our lives. We were engaged for a bit and…I don’t know. Did you grow up always knowing you wanted kids? That you wanted to be a dad one day?”

The question is barely out of Fit’s mouth when Pac answers, “Yes.”

Fit snorts. “I figured as much. Well, that’s not me. Or it wasn’t me, I guess. I’m not really sure anymore. But I never planned on having kids and was never interested in that kind of life. Things had to change, but I’d never make another choice. There was no way I was leaving Ramon. Spreen couldn’t deal with that, and I can’t blame him. We got engaged on the assumption we were on the same page about how the future would work out, but. Yeah.”

The pair allow silence to overtake them for a moment. Now, all of Fit’s concentration is placed into Pac’s hand, and he runs his fingertips over every scar and vein. 

“I’m sorry to hear this, Fit. But I’m glad you’re not like that now. You have friends here; you have all of us. It’s okay if you never wanted to be a dad. Sometimes things just happen in life, and you change with things that come.” Pac offers his best grin to Fit, twisting his own fingers to squeeze Fit’s hand as he speaks. 

“Can I ask…”

“Anything,” Fit responds before Pac has fully trailed off. 

“Before things changed, was it a good relationship?”

Fit whistles slowly, like a deflating balloon. 

“Well, that’s a loaded question.”

“I’m sorry if it’s-”

“No, no, I get you. I would say, at the time, yes, it was a good relationship. Looking back from the outside years later? It was two people who were not ready to change and were trying to keep it together. But we weren’t terrible to one another or anything. I think we were just scared and dumb and young. He did leave with some money, and I’m still pissed about that more than him not wanting to be in Ramon’s life.”

“I’m sorry, Fit, what? He stole from you?!” Pac stiffens, sitting up straight and staring Fit down. 

“Yeah. It’s why we moved here, in part. It's much cheaper out here than back in the city where I used to be. Spreen and I broke up, and three days later, our joint account was nearly depleted. I called him, and he said he took the money and left so he could ‘get on his feet again’ as if suddenly raising a fucking kid I barely knew was a fun vacation idea. Luckily, we had separate accounts as well, so I was able to keep us afloat, but yeah. If I still had the money, I would have bought the loft outright and done it up when I bought the gym.”

“Meus Deus, Fit. That is a lot to deal with. I’m so sad you had all this happen but also so happy you’re here now, you know? I wish you didn’t have to suffer like this, and Ramon too! But I’m glad you’re both here now. I’m glad you are here with me.”

“I’m glad too, Pac.” 

Pac attempts to send Fit the most adoring gaze possible, but anger still runs through his veins. 

“I’m also glad I never met Spreen. I think I’d hang him, knowing this.”

Fit attempts a laugh and ends up choking on the air, coughing to clear his throat. 

“Sorry, I’m good. The visual there broke me for a minute.” 

Pac smirks, pleased. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this earlier. I wasn’t trying to deceive you or anything like that purposefully. It’s just hard to talk about sometimes. A lot of things happened at once, and I wasn’t the best at dealing with them. The time between being shot, losing my brother, gaining Ramon, Spreen walking out, and Ramon and I moving here was probably too short for anyone to process healthily. I wanted to make sure we were sure about us before I brought up anything to Ramon. I can’t risk putting him through anything like that again.” 

“I understand Fit. It is not a problem for me, I promise. We have to figure ourselves out first sometimes, you know?” Pac smiles softly Fit's way, reassuring him he has no plans to go anywhere. 

“Who else knows this? About you and Ramon?”

“Just Phil. I don’t think the kids know, just Phil.”

“You and Phil are very close.” Pac’s words are a statement, no indictment or leading question to catch Fit out. “I’m glad you have him in your life. I didn’t realize how long you’ve known one another.”

“Yeah. I don’t tell the old man enough that I appreciate him, but that’s not really our friendship, you know? Phil just knows. He knows, and I know he cares, and that’s fine for us. But yeah, he was the first one to find out—the only one, actually, who isn’t my parents and stuff. Phil already had Chayanne, so I thought he could give me some advice. It turns out his advice was to pack up and move out here. I think he knew it would be easier to keep me from running myself into the ground if he could see me.”

“I know what that is like.” Pac’s been on the receiving end of one too many wake-up calls from Mike in the early hours of the morning. Mike always looked out for Pac, putting him back together after he faints from exhaustion or falls asleep standing up due to sleep deprivation. Pac’s never been the best at sustaining himself, and though he’s improved leaps and bounds over the past few years, Mike is always there, checking in. 

“I bet. It’s sort of like you and Mike, but not the same. Different, but still important. And know that I understand that, okay? I get that you and Mike have something that you and I don’t, and I’m not going to be weird about it. That’s your business and your life. If you trust Mike with your life, I trust him with it, too.”

“Thank you, Fit. A lot of people don’t get it.” Pac’s been down this road before—potential partners who seem like the one until they meet Mike and accuse Pac of wrongdoing. Fit’s the first person he’s been with who’s never once asked Pac for an explanation. Fit’s only ever provided unwavering support, and Pac is determined to return it in droves. 

“Yeah, well, a lot of people haven’t been shot or kidnapped or made out with their roommate on a balcony, so we can’t blame them.”

“They’re missing out,” Pac retorts with a smirk. 

“Absolutely,” Fit chuckles. “It builds character.”

“Have you seen him since?” Pac’s tone is light, with no accusations flying around. He is genuinely curious if this guy will rear his head again or if Fit has completely cut ties. 

“No, but he has started calling lately. Not a lot, three times in the past year. Nothing to worry about; he’s not wanting back in our lives. He just keeps leaving me voicemails saying he has something to give me, and that’s it.” Fit doesn’t see the point in keeping this from Pac. 

“When? Does he say why he wants to give you things?” Fit might have moved on, but Pac doesn’t trust this guy’s intentions. If he’s stolen money from Fit before, there’s a good chance he might try again. 

“A month or so. He’s in town then for some reason. He never asks for a call back or anything like that. Just says he has something to give me, and he’ll be in town at some point and wants me to have it. I don’t know what would be worth him doing it in person if it is something I owned, and I don’t recall anything missing when we broke up. I’ve admittedly ignored thinking about the whole thing.” Fit’s honesty is straightforward, and he seems more confused by the situation than anything else. 

“Are you going to meet with him?”

“Genuinely? I haven’t decided. I keep going back and forth on it: whether I need it as closure, whether I need closure at all, or whether or not I just want to go so I can punch his lights out the moment I see him. I don’t know what to do, Pac.”

“I think you should let me go with you,” Pac says matter of factly. “That way, I can kill him if need be. Ramon needs you; you can’t be in jail for his childhood. Kids will be ruthless with the bullying if they know Ramon’s dad is in prison. I can handle it, though. Again, I guess!” 

Pac’s sarcasm is palpable, and he laughs along with his words, but there’s a truth in Pac’s eyes that drives Fit to the brink of sanity. 

“Fit?”

“Sorry, sorry. I just imagined you beating the shit out of Spreen, and I blue-screened.”

Pac bursts into considerable, euphoric laughter. He may also be blushing more than ever before, but it’s worth it for the look in Fit’s eyes. He seems almost hungry, and it’s pretty clear he’s daydreaming about something risque. Pac has to look away to control his reaction before speaking, a smirk already present.

“I didn’t realize that did it for you. I will have to start my vigilante career, huh?”

Fit groans and tosses his head back to rest against the couch, covering his face with his hands and muffling his speech. 

“Oh god, stop. Too much spandex to think about; my brain may never recover.”

“So now you like me punching people and wearing spandex? I am learning so much about you tonight, Fit.”

“Stop it, you,” Fit grumbles. 

“No! It’s cute! It’s cute that you think I could be cute while beating someone up.”

Fit snorts, shakes his head, and removes his hands from his face. His head turns to take in Pac, and he deliberately looks Pac up and down with the kind of slow, steady gaze that people write romance novels about. Pac feels as though he’s burning from the inside out as Fit’s eyes rake over every inch of him, clearly admiring. Forget everything Fit has said before; he is more seductive than he gives himself credit for. Pac knows Fit could ask him for the world now, and Pac would bend space and time to make it happen. 

“Oh no, Pac. I don’t think it’d be cute; I think it’d be hot. Like really fucking hot.”

Fit’s voice reverberates under Pac’s skin, raising goosebumps across his limbs. The powerful feeling returns and Pac can’t believe this man has such an effect on him. A cold shower would solve everything, but Pac has never been one to back down from a challenge just because he is a bit embarrassed and a lot turned on. 

Pac shifts from his seat, half across Fit to press himself even closer, lifting himself enough to catch Fit’s hands in one hand, pull them in, and drag Fit in for a kiss. Pac leads, and Fit follows, attempting to match this kiss's far more intimate nature. Pac nips at Fit’s lips, never staying in the same place for long. He leaves soft and sweet pecks all over Fit’s face again before returning to his lips and giving Fit a kiss that leaves him panting, silently begging for more. 

“I understand what you mean, though,” Pac mutters into Fit’s ear as he places a final kiss on Fit’s left jawline. 

“About whether or not I need closure?” Fit would usually be embarrassed by how much his voice squeaks while speaking, but fuck it. Pac understands. Pac would probably take pride in it if he noticed. 

“Oh. Uh, no, not that. We will have to talk about it more, I think.”

“Yeah. What part, then?”

“About you short-circuiting thinking of me beating someone up,” Pac states matter-of-factly. “Remember when you were willing to punch Cellbit for me?” 

Fit hums in acknowledgment. 

“I thought about it a lots, that’s all. It is a really good visual. You are strong, and Cellbit is Cellbit. It would not be fair, but it would be a fun watch.”

Fit grins at Pac’s words, nodding slowly and thinking as his eyes wander around the room. 

“What?” Pac asks, waiting for Fit to say something. 

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”

“No, but you look like you want to. Spit it out! Don’t tease me, I want the fofoca!”

“It’s nothing! I was just thinking about how it wouldn’t be fair for me to take on Cellbit like that. He’s a good guy and all, and I think he’d get a few sneaky shots in, but c’mon, Pac. It’s an easy win." Fit adds more base to his voice as he smirks at Pac, eyes alight with mischief. "Wouldn’t you rather I take on a bigger threat? Wouldn't it be a bit of a longer fight? Maybe I’d take a few punches but shake them off easily? How about that?”

“Oh my god, you are the worst. This is the worst.” 

Pac buries his face in his hands and crumples into Fit as Fit’s laughter takes over. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it; we’ve all had these thoughts before.”

Pac snorts, rolling his eyes as he uncovers them. 

“You’ve thought about me beating people up before? And looking good doing it?” Pac’s voice is sarcastic, but the tinge of interest lingers. 

“No, no. Of course not, Pac. It’s just. You know. Usually, when I think about it, you’re sword-fighting.”

“What?”

“Uh. You know! You did that sparring thing with the guys at work. That was. Uh. Y’know. Nice to watch, is all. You’re real strong, Pac. It was a good viewing experience; that’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Huh.” 

Pac takes a moment to process this information. He remembers the day. Etoiles was nearing a breakdown due to boredom and dragged Pac into an instructional sword-fighting session, regardless of Pac’s interest. He showed Pac a few moves, and he, Etoiles, Foolish, and Tubbo fought for an hour or so until they were too worn out to continue. He remembers Fit being there, of course, but never noticed if he had a vested interest in the matches. 

Pac’s strength has never before been something he’s considered attractive about himself. At least, no one has told him outright that they have found it a turn-on in any capacity, until now. Fit keeps surprising him. Considering Fit’s profession, Pac’s always considered him the strong and sexy partner in this relationship, but perhaps sharing that role wouldn’t be a problem. Pac allows his mind to wander for a moment, considering how Fit would react if Pac acts more aggressively with him now that he knows this information. 

“Yeah.” Fit sighs his words, eyes glassy as if he is also daydreaming about something unsaid. “I don’t know how we got on this topic. My brain feels like jello at the moment.”

“I do not know either. We should head to bed soon. Though I forgot to ask, I assume your errand was to see Roier?” Pac asks. 

“Yeah, yeah. I went over there to let them know what happened. I don’t know if I handled it well, but Roier and Cellbit said they’d talk to Bobby and Richarlyson about it and apologized. I think the boys will probably say sorry next time they see Ramon. Roier is a good one; I believe him if he says he’ll talk to the boys.”

“He will. Cellbit too. He would never let Richarlyson get away with that. Richas struggles with saying no to people. He loves everyone so much; he does not like to let people down, so he will understand how he hurt Ramon’s feelings. I will talk to him, too.”

“Thank you, Pac. For everything. Especially today.” Fit grasps for one of Pac’s hands and kisses his knuckles again. He’s never done this before, but it seems that Fit’s found a new gesture he likes, and Pac will never complain. 

“There is no need to thank me, Fit. I was just here and tried to help the best I could. Today was a good day. I mean, it was bad, but after the bad parts were over, it went good. Better. Ramon is so sweet; I’m happy he understood.”

“Mhmm. Oh, on that note, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Fit! Go ahead.”

“What Ramon said earlier about calling you something, Pai? Was that it? That’s like dad, right? Is that okay for him to say? Would you be offended if he said it? Because I can talk to him if that’s a lot to handle.” 

Pac nearly tears up at Fit's care for him. Fit's consideration and compassion seem to come so naturally that it seems as if Fit’s never even thought about being kind; it’s simply an innate part of who he is. Pac has never felt so much like a priority to another person before. 

“No, Fitche. I love it. He can say it if he wants; it does not bother me at all. I appreciate you asking.”

“I just want everyone to be on the same page. It’s a lot for all of us, I know. I want this to work, and I want us all to be honest and open and say what we need to.”

“Mhm. Me too, Fit. This is why I think we need to get some rest now. I think I am about five minutes from falling asleep on you. You are very cozy, Fitche.”

“Glad to be of service.” Fit’s fingers have moved on from Pac’s own, now tracing intricate patterns onto Pac’s inner forearm. Pac feels as though Fit is spelling his name for a moment, but he shrugs it off. 

“I just thought of somethings. Your birthday is coming soon, Fit. What would you like for it? I will get you anything in the world!”

“Anything?”

“Within reason. I will not go to jail again, but petty crimes are fine,” Pac jokes. 

“A date.”

“What?”

“With everything going on, we haven’t been able to have one yet—a real date. Let’s go on a first date, and then we can tell everyone. That’s what I want for my birthday: one date with you.”

Fit’s nerves bubble to the surface momentarily. Pac notices the signs and jumps to action to quell them quickly. 

“Fit, that is…yes. Yes, I would love to go on a date with you. I will make all the plans; we will have a big birthday date! I’ll find someone to watch the boys, and I will plan the whole thing for you. How does that sound?”

“Perfect. Thank you, my beautiful Brazilian boyfriend.”

“Stop it! It is too late for me to be embarrassed; I am too tired. I have to go to bed soon.”

“You could stay. With me, I mean,” Fit suggests, stammering. 

“Hm?”

“I mean…he knows now. Y’know? About us. You don’t have to go running back to your room. You could stay, and we could sleep together. Not like sleeping together but sleeping together, you know? Fuck I am awful at this. I can’t even be suave by accident!” Fit bemoans. 

Despite Fit’s lack of confidence, Pac finds himself over the moon with the suggestion. 

“I would love to stay. Let me grab my phone, and we can sleep. Together!” Pac giggles. 

“Together.” Fit mutters to himself. “Like the sound of that.” Fit beams an overly large, cheesy smile at Pac, who rolls his eyes like it’s a muscle reflex. 

“You would.”

“Get your stuff before I change my mind! Mouthy little brat,” Fit grumbles, pushing Pac’s legs off him as he shifts to stand. 

Pac smirks at Fit before heading to the hall, rushing to his room to grab his phone and quickly change into better pajamas for a shared sleeping experience. Basketball shorts and a years-old t-shirt aren’t going to cut it; he needs to bring out the comfortable but well-fitting pajamas for tonight. 

Minutes later, Pac wanders into Fit’s room, carefully leaving the door slightly ajar in case of late-night nightmares. After everything Ramon’s been through, there’s a possibility of one tonight, and the last thing he wants is for Ramon to feel shut out because of Pac’s presence. 

Fit’s back is to Pac, and Pac swoons momentarily as he takes in Fit’s taut muscles in motion. Fit pulls the balcony doors closed and locks them before straightening the curtains. Without a shirt, Fit is a sight to behold. Pac lets out a low-pitched wolf whistle, causing Fit to spin around. 

“Jesus, Pac, I’m too old to get scared like that. My heart could go any day now.”

“Who is the whiny brat now, hm?” Pac retorts, placing his phone face down on the nightstand as he slides into the side of the bed he’s claimed for himself. 

“Still you. I’d need a year just to come close to taking your crown,” Fit fires back, joining Pac. 

“Hey,” Fit says, rolling to the side to meet Pac halfway. He leans in and kisses Pac softly, nothing more than a few brushes of lips before bed. Pac returns his motion in kind, pulling away to leave one on Fit’s forehead before snuggling into the pillows beneath him. He and Fit find themselves on their sides, facing one another as they drift off. 

“Pac? You still awake?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You can, but I might be asleep before I answer,” Pac responds honestly. 

“Do you know what gatinho means?”

Pac snorts but smiles at Fit’s words. 

“I do! It’s like a kitten? Why? Does Ramon want a cat now?”

“No, no. I mean, yeah, he’d love one, but this is different.”

“Hm?” Pac’s trying so hard to stay awake and indulge in Fit’s conversation, but his vision is going, and he can feel his body melt into Fit’s incredibly soft, high-tread count sheets. 

“It’s nothing; just when I was at Roier and Cellbit’s earlier, that’s what Roier called Cellbit.”

“WHAT?!”

“Hold on, hand me my phone! I need to destroy him in the group chat for this. Bagi will never let him live this down. You are too good to me, Fitche!”

“Anything for you, Pac,” Fit says as he rolls toward Pac, carefully avoiding Pac’s elbows as he holds his phone aloft, quickly texting Bagi. Pac’s phone is placed back on the nightstand almost as soon as it’s held, and he shifts in bed, angling his arms to invite Fit into them. It takes a moment to navigate the new space for a comfortable position to be found. Finally, Fit’s head buries into the crook of Pac’s neck as he relaxes his right arm across Pac’s torso.

A moment later, Pac’s hand lifts from its space on the bed, entwining his fingers with Fit’s before both are asleep, dreaming of a date to come.