The Heart of Summerlin (Epilogue)
Masterpost and Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue | Bonus material
One year later
Spencer huffed softly, furrowing his brow as he searched for his smallest turnscrew, cursing himself silently just one more time for insisting that he use such tiny Robertsons for this particular set of music boxes.
Of course, he hadn’t realized when he first began planning the designs for the boxes that the next few months of his life would involve working almost exclusively with one hand.
Tristan snuffled quietly into the crook of Spencer’s arm, his tiny toes curling at his slumber being disturbed so rudely by Spencer’s movements and noises of frustration.
“Sorry, sorry,” Spencer cooed, pressing Tristan more securely against his ribcage and running his fingers through the mop of golden hair swirled atop his head. When the little boy seemed satisfied with Spencer’s comforting and slipped back into a fitful sleep, Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, commencing his search for the turnscrew, if about three times slower.
There was a time when he knew where every cog and screw in his little workshop was located, but that time had long past. The last three months had been filled with bottles and nappies, crying and giggling and Tristan and Sophia, that his days of organisation had little to no sign of ever returning, especially since Tristan absolutely would not fall asleep for the new governess, Hayley. Sophia adored Hayley, and Tristan liked her well enough when it came time for baths or playing, but when it came to bedtime, only Spencer’s left elbow would do. Occasionally Brendon could get him to fall asleep cradled against him with his twin occupying Brendon’s other arm, but the occasions still seemed few and far between.
It was certainly a frustrating quirk, especially when Spencer was trying to work, but he couldn’t help but be just slightly delighted. Sophia loved everyone she came in contact with, ranging from her aunts, to the Alexes, and, of course, to Brendon and Spencer, but Tristan clearly preferred Spencer, and that fact sent a certain pride through him that only a new father could understand.
“Ah, here we are,” Spencer whispered, reaching into the back of a drawer full of scrap metal to withdraw the long searched for turnscrew.
“How are they coming along?”
Spencer glanced up at Brendon from his spot on his workbench, offering a tired smile. “They’re coming.”
Brendon leaned over his shoulder, his thumb sliding over Tristan’s chubby cheek. “I’m sure he’s not making things any easier.”
Spencer shrugged. “He’s just been sleeping.”
“If only his sister could learn do the same.” Brendon slid onto the workbench next to him, readjusting Sophia who was squirming happily in his arms. Sophia reached for the music boxes being pieced together on the table, and Brendon pulled her back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pacifier, which she dutifully grabbed but didn’t bother putting in her mouth. She preferred to just hold it and gum at the plastic handle instead. Brendon sighed, though he was smiling, and pulled dark ringlets from her face to keep her hair out of her eyes. “I think she’s just too curious about everything to bother with sleeping.”
Spencer smiled. “She’s so much like the girls were at this age. I feel like I’ve already helped raise Sophia twice.”
Brendon laughed, leaning his head against Spencer’s shoulder. “If only I’d had the privilege. This twin thing is harder than it sounded when we first talked about adopting them.”
Spencer hummed affirmation. “Having done it before doesn’t make it much easier. Trust me. Besides, Tristan is a whole different story.”
Brendon nodded, reaching for the shining curved metal that would eventually make up full mechanical flowers that would be properly pieced together to form a music box rather than just the frame that it currently was. “Is this Sophia’s? And the one with all the moving clock hands is Tristan’s?”
“That’s right. I think they’ll like them.”
Brendon sniffed. “I’m sure they will.” He lifted the lid of Sophia’s music box and seemed disappointed that the music hadn’t been added yet. “What songs will they play?”
Spencer felt the tips of his ears redden and lifted a set of tines from the desk. He placed it in Tristan’s half finished box, holding it in place as he twisted the key and let a slow, tinkling melody fill the room.
Brendon broke into a wide smile. “I think you might have an unhealthy obsession.”
Spencer couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly Brendon could turn his entire face red, even after more than a year of them being married. “It’s from when we met. I thought it was appropriate.”
“My lord, I believe the babies have effectively turned you into a ball of warm fluff.” Brendon snickered, leaning in and pressing a kiss firmly to the corner of Spencer’s mouth.
Spencer returned the kiss, then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Sophia’s head. She looked up at him with softened blue eyes, her head falling back against Brendon’s chest. He smiled at her, his heart aching in a way that he was beginning to be accustomed to when one of his children was falling asleep or laughing or reaching for him. “Looks like it’s about time for bed, huh, Sophia?”
“Sounds about right. All right, Sophia, bedtime for the little lady.” Brendon adjusted her again, cradling her in his arms to get up from the bench, then extending his hand to help Spencer up as well. “Come on, Spencer. The music boxes will be waiting in the morning, and you know the twins sleep better if they’re both in their crib.”
Spencer nodded, taking Brendon’s hand and allowing himself to be helped up. It was late, and Sophia would be wide awake in half an hour if they didn’t take this moment of sleepiness and run with it.
They tucked the babies into their beds, taking care to wrap them in their blankets tightly. Sophia’s eyelashes fluttered softly against her cheeks for all of five minutes before she curled toward Tristan and fell asleep. Tristan made quiet, disappointed sounds when Spencer first laid him down but didn’t stir again after that. Moonlight streamed through the gauzy curtains of the window behind their crib, bathing the twins in soft, ethereal light.
After a moment, Brendon wrapped his hand around Spencer’s, tugging him gently toward the door and their chambers across the hall. Spencer was more comfortable leaving the twins in their room than he used to be, but he certainly still didn’t like it. But Brendon’s hand was pulling him, and he followed freely.
When the twins’ door quietly clicked shut behind Brendon, he smiled at Spencer. His eyes were tired, with light purple pressed beneath them. A parental rite of passage, Greta had informed them on one of the Ross family’s still-frequent visits, bouncing the newest Ross, baby Rosalyn, on her lap.
Spencer returned his smile, knowing full well that his own eyes matched Brendon’s as he brought up his hands to frame Brendon’s face, thumbs sliding over the purple. Brendon closed his eyes, his eyelashes whispering against the tips of Spencer’s fingers.
Spencer leaned down, unable to help himself, and kissed him. Brendon’s body responded to his in kind, pressing close as his hands came up to loosen Spencer’s cravat, slowly pushing until Spencer took a step back, then another, and another, until Spencer’s back was pressed against the bedroom door.
Brendon drew back then, eyes a little brighter than before as he peered up at Spencer, biting his lip as he twisted the door handle, then wrapped his hands around Spencer’s, squeezing them before guiding them down to lead Spencer into the bedroom.
Spencer let himself be led, the door shutting softly behind them.
Bonus material | Back to masterpost
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Epilogue | Bonus material
One year later
Spencer huffed softly, furrowing his brow as he searched for his smallest turnscrew, cursing himself silently just one more time for insisting that he use such tiny Robertsons for this particular set of music boxes.
Of course, he hadn’t realized when he first began planning the designs for the boxes that the next few months of his life would involve working almost exclusively with one hand.
Tristan snuffled quietly into the crook of Spencer’s arm, his tiny toes curling at his slumber being disturbed so rudely by Spencer’s movements and noises of frustration.
“Sorry, sorry,” Spencer cooed, pressing Tristan more securely against his ribcage and running his fingers through the mop of golden hair swirled atop his head. When the little boy seemed satisfied with Spencer’s comforting and slipped back into a fitful sleep, Spencer breathed a sigh of relief, commencing his search for the turnscrew, if about three times slower.
There was a time when he knew where every cog and screw in his little workshop was located, but that time had long past. The last three months had been filled with bottles and nappies, crying and giggling and Tristan and Sophia, that his days of organisation had little to no sign of ever returning, especially since Tristan absolutely would not fall asleep for the new governess, Hayley. Sophia adored Hayley, and Tristan liked her well enough when it came time for baths or playing, but when it came to bedtime, only Spencer’s left elbow would do. Occasionally Brendon could get him to fall asleep cradled against him with his twin occupying Brendon’s other arm, but the occasions still seemed few and far between.
It was certainly a frustrating quirk, especially when Spencer was trying to work, but he couldn’t help but be just slightly delighted. Sophia loved everyone she came in contact with, ranging from her aunts, to the Alexes, and, of course, to Brendon and Spencer, but Tristan clearly preferred Spencer, and that fact sent a certain pride through him that only a new father could understand.
“Ah, here we are,” Spencer whispered, reaching into the back of a drawer full of scrap metal to withdraw the long searched for turnscrew.
“How are they coming along?”
Spencer glanced up at Brendon from his spot on his workbench, offering a tired smile. “They’re coming.”
Brendon leaned over his shoulder, his thumb sliding over Tristan’s chubby cheek. “I’m sure he’s not making things any easier.”
Spencer shrugged. “He’s just been sleeping.”
“If only his sister could learn do the same.” Brendon slid onto the workbench next to him, readjusting Sophia who was squirming happily in his arms. Sophia reached for the music boxes being pieced together on the table, and Brendon pulled her back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pacifier, which she dutifully grabbed but didn’t bother putting in her mouth. She preferred to just hold it and gum at the plastic handle instead. Brendon sighed, though he was smiling, and pulled dark ringlets from her face to keep her hair out of her eyes. “I think she’s just too curious about everything to bother with sleeping.”
Spencer smiled. “She’s so much like the girls were at this age. I feel like I’ve already helped raise Sophia twice.”
Brendon laughed, leaning his head against Spencer’s shoulder. “If only I’d had the privilege. This twin thing is harder than it sounded when we first talked about adopting them.”
Spencer hummed affirmation. “Having done it before doesn’t make it much easier. Trust me. Besides, Tristan is a whole different story.”
Brendon nodded, reaching for the shining curved metal that would eventually make up full mechanical flowers that would be properly pieced together to form a music box rather than just the frame that it currently was. “Is this Sophia’s? And the one with all the moving clock hands is Tristan’s?”
“That’s right. I think they’ll like them.”
Brendon sniffed. “I’m sure they will.” He lifted the lid of Sophia’s music box and seemed disappointed that the music hadn’t been added yet. “What songs will they play?”
Spencer felt the tips of his ears redden and lifted a set of tines from the desk. He placed it in Tristan’s half finished box, holding it in place as he twisted the key and let a slow, tinkling melody fill the room.
Brendon broke into a wide smile. “I think you might have an unhealthy obsession.”
Spencer couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly Brendon could turn his entire face red, even after more than a year of them being married. “It’s from when we met. I thought it was appropriate.”
“My lord, I believe the babies have effectively turned you into a ball of warm fluff.” Brendon snickered, leaning in and pressing a kiss firmly to the corner of Spencer’s mouth.
Spencer returned the kiss, then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Sophia’s head. She looked up at him with softened blue eyes, her head falling back against Brendon’s chest. He smiled at her, his heart aching in a way that he was beginning to be accustomed to when one of his children was falling asleep or laughing or reaching for him. “Looks like it’s about time for bed, huh, Sophia?”
“Sounds about right. All right, Sophia, bedtime for the little lady.” Brendon adjusted her again, cradling her in his arms to get up from the bench, then extending his hand to help Spencer up as well. “Come on, Spencer. The music boxes will be waiting in the morning, and you know the twins sleep better if they’re both in their crib.”
Spencer nodded, taking Brendon’s hand and allowing himself to be helped up. It was late, and Sophia would be wide awake in half an hour if they didn’t take this moment of sleepiness and run with it.
They tucked the babies into their beds, taking care to wrap them in their blankets tightly. Sophia’s eyelashes fluttered softly against her cheeks for all of five minutes before she curled toward Tristan and fell asleep. Tristan made quiet, disappointed sounds when Spencer first laid him down but didn’t stir again after that. Moonlight streamed through the gauzy curtains of the window behind their crib, bathing the twins in soft, ethereal light.
After a moment, Brendon wrapped his hand around Spencer’s, tugging him gently toward the door and their chambers across the hall. Spencer was more comfortable leaving the twins in their room than he used to be, but he certainly still didn’t like it. But Brendon’s hand was pulling him, and he followed freely.
When the twins’ door quietly clicked shut behind Brendon, he smiled at Spencer. His eyes were tired, with light purple pressed beneath them. A parental rite of passage, Greta had informed them on one of the Ross family’s still-frequent visits, bouncing the newest Ross, baby Rosalyn, on her lap.
Spencer returned his smile, knowing full well that his own eyes matched Brendon’s as he brought up his hands to frame Brendon’s face, thumbs sliding over the purple. Brendon closed his eyes, his eyelashes whispering against the tips of Spencer’s fingers.
Spencer leaned down, unable to help himself, and kissed him. Brendon’s body responded to his in kind, pressing close as his hands came up to loosen Spencer’s cravat, slowly pushing until Spencer took a step back, then another, and another, until Spencer’s back was pressed against the bedroom door.
Brendon drew back then, eyes a little brighter than before as he peered up at Spencer, biting his lip as he twisted the door handle, then wrapped his hands around Spencer’s, squeezing them before guiding them down to lead Spencer into the bedroom.
Spencer let himself be led, the door shutting softly behind them.
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