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Aku nodded. “Took the test the other night. I was sittin’ in the bathroom stall with my heart in my throat. My Mama waiting in your room while I peed. Two lines, clear as day.”

Noodle let out a shaky breath, smiling so big her cheeks hurt. “You gon’ have a baby…”

Aku nodded again, slower this time. “Yea.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of it settling between them.

“Are you okay?” Noodle’s voice was soft—always sing songy.

Aku looked at her. “Yea…but more than that—I’m happy.”

Noodle’s eyes watered fast. “Don’t do that. You not about to make me cry in the happy den.”

“I’m serious.” Aku laughed through her own tears. “I feel peace. It’s scary, but it feel right. He don’t even know yet.”

“He doesn’t?”

Aku shook her head. “He laid up in my room snoring through the whole thing. I been walking around with saltines and ginger chews in my purse like an old person.”

Noodle burst into giggles, wiping her cheeks. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

“I do.”

They both wiped happy tears from their faces, grinning like fools.

Aku leaned back on her elbows. “You remember our pregnancy pact?”

Noodle raised her brows. “Why would I forget that? You only made me and Ahvi be a part of it.”

“Okay, well -Tag, you’re it, ‘cause I don’t think Ahvi is ready yet and I don’t blame her. Her life is moving so fast it only makes sense for her to want to settle in that before she has another baby. But by the time I’m on my second one, that hoe better be ready.”

“How you gonna tell her when she’s ready?” Noodle shook her head at how bossy and dramatic Aku could be. “I stopped taking my birth control last week…”

Aku sat up straight. “Noodle!” she slapped her arm.

“What?! Me and Bu are married now. I been thinking about it. We not trying, but we also not…not trying.”

“Wow. We really about to be them girls.”

“We are them girls.” Noodle wagged her tongue.

They both laughed again, leaning into each other.

“Our babies gon’ be best friends,” Aku whispered.

“Better be.”

“They gon’ be matching on purpose, too.”

“With coordinated playdate outfits,” Noodle added.

“You sound obsessed.”

“Only a little.”

Another quiet moment passed. The waves rocked gently beneath them. From down below, music still carried up, but in the happy den - the world was still.

Noodle turned her head. “But really…you’re happy?”

Aku didn’t answer right away. She stared at the sheet above them, blinking slowly. Then she nodded, eyes glossy. “I’m real happy.”

That was enough.

Noodle reached over and squeezed her hand, and Aku squeezed back. No big moment. No grand speeches. Just two best friends in their own little corner of peace, dreaming up the next chapter…together.

Later, they all sat around the table set up on the deck. The private chef plated steak and lobster while everybody got seconds on the buttered garlic bread that Noodle swore was better than sex.

Noodle ate out of Bu’s lap, picking off his plate. They stayed glued to each other.

Malik leaned over to Aku. “You think love ever stop showing up like that?”

“I hope not,” she whispered, leaning on his shoulder.

Their photos from the yacht made it to Instagram before dessert. Aku posted a group selfie, captioned: Black love, Black peace, Black everything. #8thWonder #FamilyShit

Malik didn’t post often, but this time he did. A photo of him and Aku at the edge of the yacht -her in his lap, his head buried in her neck, with the ocean behind them. He captioned it:

No fairytales needed…just her.

They all moved over to the deck, where they sat and laughed, just living life. The music was a vibe. Aku twerked in Malik’s lap to Somebody by Latto. “All I want is you…boy all I want is you...” she rapped, running her hands over his face.

Malik just cheesed lazily.

“I wanna live in your skin…when I jump out, you jump in…” She bent over, running her hand down one leg, making her ass jump in her cheeky bikini.

Noodle hyped her. “Aye! Turn up, Aku… Malik what you gon’ do with all that booty?” she giggled, high from taking smoke out of Bu’s mouth. They were still on the same type of time. Their love didn’t change, just got better.

Bu laughed, blowing smoke from his mouth. “Show me sumthin’ baby.”

Noodle’s face flushed red, her hands shot to cover it. He yanked them down. “C’mon… you be wining them little hips on stage… show me some of that.”

Latto’s Like A Thug came on next. Slowly, Noodle stood, locking eyes with Aku.

“Show the fuck out, Jacory!” Aku shouted. “Ain’t nothin’ like that thug love!” she shouted adlibbing.

Noodle licked her lips, pushed her wet curls back and started rocking her hips slow at first. When Bu’s fingers gripped her thigh, she cut up. Slow and sensual, her juicy ass moved like the waves against the boat. His hand ran up her thigh, coaching her—affirming that she was doing good.

“I’mma have to fuck you like a thug,” Aku straddled Malik, dutty wining on her knees.

Malik sucked his lip into his mouth, eyes low and red. Being high on weed was way better than the pills. This type of high allowed him to be in the moment instead of just witnessing it from a blurred state. Leaning in, he bit Aku’s neck.

They were all in a trance, locked into the loves of their lives. The vibe stayed calm and consistent like that for a while. Until Nipsey’s Last Time That I checked , picked the pace back up.

Malik smirked, feet twitching to get up and do his dance. Aku looked back at Noodle who only smirked at her.

Bu flipped his hat forward. “Oh, I see what type of time y’all on.”

“Get up and do yo’ lil dancey-dance, baby,” Noodle encouraged.

Bu rose slow like a king answering a call, not just to his wife, but to the moment. He glanced around, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His chain caught the yacht lights. His eyes, locked on Malik.

There wasn’t no tension, just readiness . The kind that only came when two men had already been through the hard part, and decided there was nothing left but respect.

Bu stepped forward holding his hand out. His grip was solid and firm, coated in love.

Malik looked at it for half a second, then tapped Aku’s thigh before he stood up. He didn’t hesitate. Just slid his palm into Bu’s and gripped it tight. Their eyes met. The ocean hummed beneath them, and in that locked-hand silence, there was peace .

That unspoken we good now.

Bu gave a short nod— real man shit —and let their hands break. He backed up, squared his shoulders, and let the music catch his feet.

It was no smut on my rep.

Bu’s movements were sharp but smooth, shoulders swaying, feet locking in with precision.

That Blood walk came out strong and proud.

He wasn’t doing it to impress, he was doing it because it was his .

The shit he grew up on. The rhythm in his bones.

Every stomp was laced in history—brothers gone, corners held down, hood dreams still breathing through the cracks.

The whole deck started hollering. Noodle was clapping and biting her lip. Aku’s eyes lit up.

Last time that I checked.

The beat kept rocking.

Bu stepped back and motioned at Malik. “Let’s see what you talkin’ ‘bout nigga.”

Malik cracked his neck with a smirk. Without looking at nobody, he slid straight into it.

Aku chewed her lip. Her man was super fine.

That Crip walk was something serious . Clean. Controlled. Blue laces swinging. He didn’t overdo it—he didn’t have to. That shit was elegant in its own way. Real Crescent boy footwork. His shoulders dipped low, arms relaxed, steps slicing the deck like the beat owed him money.

When YG’s part came in, Bu remixed it, head still bobbing watching Malik’s footwork. “Malik told you fuck the middle man, I told you I love my bitch.”

Noodle cracked up harder.

Their Black men dancing on that yacht felt like poetry—a love letter to the hood.

Two kings, two sets, two different journeys that could’ve ended in war—but instead they met right here, on the water, under the stars, letting their bodies speak in ways bullets never could…under Lunar’s moon.

By the time Malik landed his last step, they met in the middle again - face to face, grinning and nodding at each other. Noodle and Aku were clapping and yelling like they were at a sold-out concert.

Black boy joy spilled all over that deck. No corny shit - just two men choosing unity, choosing love, choosing to dance instead of fight…choosing family.

Bu threw an arm around Malik’s shoulders, pulled him in like a brother. “You aight wit’ me, nigga,” he muttered.

Malik laughed, shaking his head. “’Bout time, nigga.”

When they hugged, Malik fell into Bu more, getting choked up.

“As long as you got her, I got you, nigga,” Bu confirmed.

Off to the side, Noodle and Aku stood watching—tears threatening to spill.

Their men were good.

Their future was golden.

Aku felt like everything might just be alright.

Later that night, back in their room on the boat, Aku straddled his lap on the bed, untying the bikini strings with her mouth full of stories and love.

“You really posted us?” she teased, tossing her phone to the bed after ogling over their images on both IG and Plugged In.

“I’d post you every day if I thought you wouldn’t get snatched up.”

“Boy, I’m yours. You don’t need no Instagram to prove it.”

“I know. But the world should know it too.”

He ran his hands over her thighs, up her sides, gripping her like she was still new to him. She kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips.

“You gon’ be a good Black man,” she whispered, the words coming out before she even realized she said them.

He looked up at her, heart suddenly in his throat. “You ready to tell French?”

“Shiiiddd,” she laughed. “Let’s just make it off this yacht first.”

They both laughed, and he flipped her gently onto her back, kissing the baby-soft skin of her stomach.

“Guess I gotta marry your ass now, Dorothy.”

“Ugh!” She slapped his chest. “Don’t say it like that, Malik.”

He laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, but I do wanna marry you…gotta get my paper up first though.”

“You proposing?” she grinned.

“Not now.”

She raised a brow. “When?”

“When you least expect it.”

She rolled her eyes and pulled him closer. “You so damn extra.”

“But you love it.”

“I do.”

He kissed her again. Gently, then deeper…then with everything. “Gotta give my baby that fairytale.”

“What happened to Oz?”

“You found out it was all a lie and the wizard was just a dirty, scary ass nigga from Crescent.”

Outside, the ocean rocked the yacht just enough to remind them they were safe…together, headed somewhere better.