The Emo Mafia

•Domesticity's a bitch•

•Four years later•

It was early, maybe nine thirty a.m. or so. The sun was filtering in through the blinds, covering the dark red walls in stripes. Pete was still in bed, arm over his face to block out the light but he was awake, just too lazy to actually get up. He didn't feel like it, didn't need to, didn't want to.

His husband on the other hand was in the kitchen, or at least that's what Pete thought, preparing breakfast which Pete could faintly smell. Probably bacon, eggs, and pancakes, but he's been wrong before. Patrick liked to switch up the routine from time to time, sometimes he'd just make everyone a bowl of cereal.

It's quiet in the room until the door bursts open and a few pairs of tiny little feet come running in. Pete peeks from behind his arm to see what was all the commotion, but could barely remove his arm from his face before he's attacked by children.

"No, no, no!" He shouts, trying to shield himself by ducking under the blankets. "Go away!" But it doesn't do much since one of them yanks the blanket down from his face and screams.

"Wake up, Daddy!" The youngest one, Declan, is right in the center of Pete's face while the other two are on either side of him.

"No, Deedee, let daddy sleep." Pete responds, turning over only to come face to face with oldest one. "Bronx-"

"We know you're ticklish, dad." The blond boy says with a wicked grin on his face, almost like Cheshire Cat.

"I am not." He lies, rolling over to the opposite side away from Bronx. But then there's another young face looking directly at him. "Jesus Christ, why are there so many of you?"

"Daddy Patty told us to wake you up." Saint says, lisp prominent in his words. Then he boops Pete's nose and giggles as the other two start to poke at his sides.

"I told you guys I'm not ticklish." Pete begins to squirm a little, his voice making weird sounds as he tries to hold in a laugh. But they continue poking him all at once, all in his ribs and his stomach, one of them pokes him a few times in the neck and he starts to laugh. He wriggles around and tries to take cover under the blanket again but it doesn't help. "Stop! I told you I'm not-" His words turn to nothing but laughter as they all continue jabbing their tiny fingers into his sides, laughing along with Pete and filling the room with giggles.

"Okay, okay. I'm up! I'm up, jeez!" He finally sits up and the boys eventually stop poking him, all of them sitting on the bed except for Declan who is in his lap. "Breakfast ready, yet?"

"Not yet." Patrick answers from the doorway, holding a bowl of, what looks like, pancake batter in one arm while he stirs it with a whisk.

"You were there the whole time and didn't help me?" Pete feigns anger as he picks Declan up and gets out of bed, the other two boys following behind him.

"Pretty much, yeah." Patrick responds, pecking him on the nose then smiling brightly. Pete sends him a smile back before putting the toddler down and telling the boys to go play. They all immediately run out of the room shouting while Declan tries to keep up since he's the smallest.

"Joe and Andy are coming by later, said they had something important to share with everyone. So you know what that means." Patrick says as they exit and head toward the kitchen.