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Ian wasn’t sure what woke him, but it was just as well no matter what it was, because the clock on their wall said it was already ten in the morning, and, if they wanted to get to Chicago for the annual family get-together, they had to get moving. Rolling over, he glanced at the man in his bed.
Mickey’s head was turned towards him on the pillow, and Ian squinted slightly when he realized that it was actually his pillow, but that expression slowly melted into a smile, because the sheets had dipped during the night, and Mickey’s body was almost completely bare.
Fifteen freaking years and, still, all that it took was the sight of Mickey’s skin to get Ian ready to go.
Shaking his head at himself, Ian tugged the sheets back in place, because the last thing he needed was for Mickey to find another reason to be a grouch in the morning.
Mickey muttered something in his sleep, his left hand coming up to shove at the strands of hair that had fallen into his face, and Ian’s eyes settled on the gold ring on the other man’s hand.
Every time he caught sight of the damn thing, his heart skipped a beat. Mickey was constantly ragging on him for it, but Ian knew that Mickey loved his reaction.
After pressing a kiss to Mickey’s shoulder, Ian slipped from their bed, tugging on a pair of pants before heading down the corridor towards Yev’s room.
Pausing in the doorway, Ian stared at their kid, taking in the riot of dark hair and flushed cheeks.
They’d both given sperm when Svetlana agreed to be a surrogate, and, despite the fact that they’d never asked, Ian knew that Yev was biologically Mickey’s, and it made him love the little boy even more.
Yev was sprawled in his crib, one hand by his face in an almost perfect mimicry of the way that Mickey slept, and, sadly, that wasn’t the only sleeping habit of Mickey’s that Yev had inherited.
Steeling himself, Ian took a deep breath before stepping into the room, because what he was about to do required preparation.
“Okay, we’re gonna do this quick and easy right, Yev?” he asked, slipping a hand under the sleeping toddler before hoisting him from his bed.
Yev grunted as he curled his fingers around Ian’s dog tags, but there was no crying, and Ian could totally work with that.
“Yevy, you’re gonna’ be a good boy for Papa, aren’t you? No screaming like I’m trying to kill you ‘cause I’m too young to die of a heart attack.”
That gained an annoyed huff as Yev’s blue-green eyes opened just enough to fix Ian with what he guessed was the kid’s equivalent of a death glare.
Ian nuzzled Yev’s hair as the little boy shifted so that he could curl an arm around Ian’s neck while Ian rocked them from side to side to the music flowing from their kitchen as he picked out Yev’s clothes.
“No, Pa, no, no,” Yev mumbled when he caught sight of the shampoo in Ian’s hand.
“Sorry, kiddo, but you need a bath,” Ian responded as he led them into the bathroom, and closed the door behind them.
At first, they’d tried this in the tub, but they’d learned soon enough that Yev would settle down easier while under the shower itself as long as they kept most of the water off of him ... well, at least, Ian had learned, as far as he knew, Mickey and Yev’s bathroom battles were still ongoing.
*O*
Twenty minutes later, Ian emerged from the shower with one clean, if a bit floppy, toddler, and, eying his kid, Ian snorted when Yev thunked his head against Ian’s chest. “You should give up; the bath’s done, so it’s pointless to whine now.”
Yev didn’t seem to be buying into any of that until Ian got him back to his room and dressed him. There was a tiny battle over the pants, but Ian was victorious, in the end.
“How about we go wake Daddy, huh?” he asked, distracting Yev who had taken to eyeing his pants, like he was trying to figure out how best to get rid of them.
Yev perked up at that, babbling steadily as Ian picked him up, and headed for the master bedroom of their house.
Mickey was still asleep, though, and he’d managed to burrow himself further into the sheets.
Placing Yev firmly on top of him, Ian went in search of dry clothes, keeping an eye on the bed as he dressed.
Yev tugged at the sheets over Mickey’s head, giggling each time that Mickey ducked lower to avoid the tiny hands trying to bury themselves in his hair.
“You know he’s not gonna’ stop until you get up,” Ian commented when Mickey opened his eyes to glower at the two of them.
“Fuck off,” Mickey shot back, and Ian snorted when Yev squealed like that was the funniest shit he’d heard all week. Ian was pretty damn sure that Yev’s next big word was going to be ‘Fuck’ and Mickey’d have only himself to blame for that.
At least, Mickey had given up on going back to sleep.
Shoving the sheets lower, Mickey let Yev crawl on top of him before sitting up, and, resettling the toddler on his lap, he threw a question at his husband, “What the hell are you doin’ up, anyway?”.
The words were innocent enough, but the way that Mickey’s gaze flickered over Ian was anything but, and it took a good deal of Ian’s self-control not to react to the wariness on Mickey’s face.
“We’re all meeting at Fi’s, remember?” Ian responded, shoving his tags under his shirt, and he could see the way that the tension eased from Mickey’s muscles the second that they vanished.
Mickey supported his choice to stay in the army, but he didn’t like it... or, more accurately, he hated the time that Ian spent away from home because of his job.
Their eyes met in the mirror as Ian slipped on his shirt, and Mickey’s lips curled into a tiny smile before he left the bed, hitching Yev up on his hip.
Ian turned to greet him as the sound of John Mayer’s ‘Dreaming With A Broken Heart’ filled the air, one hand curling around Mickey’s neck as his husband tipped his head up, and the kiss that followed was slow and steady. This was something less based on raging passion and more of a reassurance that the other was still there.
“Pa!”
Ian pulled back at Yev’s voice only to have a pudgy hand pressed against his face.
“You want a kiss too, bud?” Ian laughed as he pressed a sloppy kiss to Yev’s palm, and then to his cheek, which earned him a shriek of laughter as Yev buried his face in Mickey’s chest.
Wrapping an arm around Mickey’s waist, Ian tugged him closer until Yev was sandwiched between them as he began rocking them to the melody of the song.
“You’re a fucking sap, you know that?,” Mickey muttered, and Ian just grinned as Mickey pressed his face against the crook of his neck, while Yev shifted even closer, tugging at Ian’s shirt until Ian pulled out his tags for the toddler to grab onto.
If anyone had told Ian at the start of their thing that he’d have this; a husband, a kid, a family; with Mickey Milkovich, he’d probably have laughed in their face, but, honestly, there wasn’t a damn thing about his life he’d change...well maybe Mickey and Yev's sleeping habits but that was it.