Bonds.
Since he was six-years-old, Vincent Chase hadn't done a single thing on his own. Eric had been the first to join his entourage, just a mouthy kid in Ms. Angelou's first-grade class who thought Vince would be better off playing hopscotch with the girls than trying to run a basketball game with the boys. Turtle joined two years later, when he had helped Vince get his backpack from a the fifth grade bully. And while Johnny had always been around, it wasn't until the boys were in high school and thinking about coming out west that he really became part of the crew. Now, two decades later, they were as inseparable as ever, on the verge of perhaps the biggest journey of their lives yet.
Eric proposes to Vince one night after dinner, just hanging out in the backyard when the moon hits his beautiful face just right and makes him realize he can't live another day without making this man his forever. It takes two weeks to plan the wedding and then Turtle agrees to be Eric's best man and Johnny's standing up there next to Vince and it's the four of them, just like always, against the world. Drama cries when he gives his toast, while Turtle's is peppered with stories about their youth. Eric's mom dances proudly with her only child while Vince whisks Rita across the dance floor as effortlessly as he does everything except love E. Turtle goes home with one of the girls from Eric's agency and she has a friend for Drama, and all four of them manage to get lucky on the same evening for the first time in a long time.
The guys return home from two weeks in Greece, and it's Turtle and Drama waiting at the airport with "Mr. and Mr. Murphy" signs that greet them when they first step onto American soil again. Eric doesn't find it quite as funny as Vince does that his husband is the girl in the relationship. It was hard enough accepting that he was gay and in love with his best friend; he doesn't need to pretend Vince was anything other than he is. Once Vince kisses him in front of flashing cameras, he forgets all about it and is laughing with Turtle as they amble toward the luggage carousel. Fifteen minutes later, they're in Drama's Continental headed toward the new house in Malibu.
It's a trio of houses this time on a sprawling estate, and for once, Eric didn't bitch when Vince was generous and lavish with his wealth. Turtle and Drama are under their own roofs but close enough that they can hang out any time. Shauna had sent someone to decorate Vince and Eric's while they were on their honeymoon, while Turtle's is the perfect example of a bachelor pad and Johnny's is filled with the same décor that had been in his condo. It's not a traditional way to live, but the four boys from Queens can't be bothered with convention. They're more worried about Vince's next role as a single father and finding a new assistant for Eric and Johnny's audition for a Tarentino flick and Turtle's last year of business classes.
When Eric decides that he wants to adopt and Vince agrees, it's Johnny and Turtle that they tell first. Johnny's chest puffs up at the thought of being an uncle to their rugrat and the very Catholic part in Eric asks Turtle if he'll be the godfather. Ari balks at the idea of Turtle raising their child and prays that Jessica Alba will be a sufficient godmother. Vince doesn't worry because he knows Eric chose exactly the right person to be a godfather to their little girl, a Vietnamese three-month-old they name after their mothers. It's a surprisingly normal life for boys used to anything but ordinary. But it doesn't seem like a big deal to them because it's just like it's always been with the four of them.
There would be awards and other children and marriages and failures. There would be arguments and defeats and successes and surprises. There would be amazing highs and terrifying lows and overwhelming rewards and devastating losses. There would be times they couldn't be tighter and other times when everything felt like it was falling apart. But through it all, there bond was the one true thing they could count on. It was the one thing that would always hold them together.