Work Text:
“We're having my birthday today, right?” Yevgeny asked, climbing on one of the kitchen chairs to look at the cake Sheila had baked for him. It was an elaborate bakery-style cake in the shape of a Ninja Turtle face.
“That's right,” Ian said, trying to force Gavrel's chubby arm into the sleeve of his little blue jacket.
“I'm gonna play on the monkey bars,” Yevgeny said. “After cake and presents.”
After getting the baby zipped up in his coat, Ian went to the fridge to take out the picnic lunch-ham and cheese sandwiches and cut up fruit. He also ziplock bags full of Cheetos and juice boxes ready to go. He began to put all of these things into a cloth grocery bag. He put Gavrel into his car seat and put the car seat on the table. Yevgeny made funny faces at his little brother, who grinned back at him toothlessly.
“Mickey?” Ian called. “You ready?”
Mickey entered the kitchen, shrugging his jacket on. He picked Yevgeny up with one arm and roughed him up a little playfully.
“Big guy today?” He said, turning his son over and patted his butt. “Huh? Big four year old?”
“Yeah!” Yevgeny laughed. “Put me down, Daddy!”
Mickey complied and poked Gavrel's cheek.
“And how're you doin', Man? Just chillin', right?” He asked, wiping some drool away from the almost one-year old's mouth.
He dug around in Ian's picnic bag and picked it up, grabbing the car keys. Ian picked up the car seat and they were off. The family met the Gallaghers and Milkoviches at the local park, who all seemed delighted to see them.
“Uncle Carl!” Yevgeny said, running over to the playground. “Play with me!”
Carl chased his nephew around. Fiona took Gavrel first and kissed him over and over. Debbie waited impatiently for her turn.
“This is nice,” she told Ian. “Having the party out here.”
“Yeah,” Ian agreed. “It was Yevvie's idea actually.”
“How's school goin'?” Fiona asked.
Ian shrugged. “Alright, I should be graduating by next semester and then I can start applying for teaching jobs. I've already got a few sub sessions in.”
“That's good,” his sister said, nodding.
“Mickey'll still make more money than me at the plant,” Ian said. “But at least I'll be doing what I want. I don't wanna wait tables forever.”
“Can you believe it?” Fiona said, chuckling softly. “You're not even twenty-one and you've already got the career, the family...”
Ian fidgeted with one of the bags of Cheetos. Fiona frowned slightly.
“What's wrong?” She asked.
“I've been thinking,” Ian said. “When Gavvie gets a little older-maybe two...ish, I want another one.”
“Another kid?” Fiona's eyebrows went up.
“I don't think Mickey does,” Ian said. “And I'm not sure Svetlana would be up for it either, but I think three would be perfect.”
“So talk to Mickey,” his sister said with a shrug. “I mean, Gavvie's not gonna be two for a while. It's plenty of time to think about it.”
Ian seemed dejected, even if he was smiling.
“The two we got are a handful,” he pointed out.
“I raised five,” Fiona bragged. “It's not impossible.”
“Whose sperm?” She asked, helping him to set out the food on the picnic table.
“Doesn't matter,” Ian replied.
Debbie brought Gavrel over and said, “He has poop in his diaper.”
“Careful, Yevvie,” Ian said, dodging another Hotwheels car as it hit his bare ankle.
Yevvie was lying on the carpeted floor that separated the kitchen from the dining room, which was cheap tile. He liked for his new birthday cars to speed across the tile.
Ian was busy making dinner-pancakes for Yev's birthday, and found three strips of bacon in the fridge to go with it.
“Fast cars!” The now four-year old cried, zooming another car across the floor.
Ian only chuckled and stepped over him with the food. Yevgeny rolled onto his back and stared up at him, making his cars drive in the air.
“Did you have a good birthday?” Ian asked, cutting up the little boy's pancakes at the table.
“Um, yeah!” Yevgeny nodded. He rolled back over onto his stomach and got to his feet.
“Those are mine?” He asked, going to the table.
“Yes, Sir,” Ian replied, kissing his temple and ruffling his hair.
He scooted Yev's chair up to the table and moved back to the stove to turn the bacon over. Mickey, fresh from a nap, emerged from the bedroom rubbing his eyes. He moved to the cabinet to get his own plate.
“Gavvie?” He asked drowsily.
“Asleep,” Ian said.
Mickey stared at Yevgeny, who waved his fork at his father.
“See you're enjoyin' all your new toys,” Mickey said, looking at the toys strewn all over the floor.
“Wait'll he opens his Leggos,” Ian said dryly, putting three pancakes on Mickey's plate. “You want bacon?”
“Sure,” Mickey said, moving to sit at the table.
Yevgeny drank messy gulps of his milk and bubbled out, “Daddy, after we eat we can go outside so I can ride my bike?”
For his birthday, Ian and Mickey had gotten him his very first bicycle with training wheels. He was, however, not allowed to ride it around their South Side apartment complex without one of them with him.
“Yeah, I guess,” Mickey told him.
Yevgeny ate faster then, and waited impatiently for his father to finish, helping him to eat his bacon by eating some of it himself. After they ate, Mickey went out to the patio and drug the bike out-carrying it over his head across the small living room and out the front door and down the stairs to the parking lot.
“Okay,” Mickey said, helping him to get on the bike. “You can only ride to that black truck over there and to our stairs, nowhere else. Got it?”
“Got it,” Yev said, nodding hastily. “Daddy, let go of my bike.”
Mickey couldn't help but grin. “Go for it, Man.”
Yevgeny took off pedaling at lightning speed. Mickey watched him, taking the opportunity to smoke a cigarette. The four-year old did as he was told, only riding to the marked truck and back, circling over and over. Ian came outside holding Gavrel a little bit later, and Mickey instantly put out his cigarette and smiled sweetly at the baby.
“Hey, Man,” he said as Ian passed him over. “How's Baby Red?”
“Who's that?” Ian asked, brows furrowing.
Mickey looked up to see Yev stopped on his bike, an older man half-crouched talking to him.
“The fuck?” Mickey muttered, storming over.
“Hey!” He demanded sharply. “Can I help you?”
“Oh, hello,” the man said, sounding a little startled. “Is this your son?”
“Yeah, he's my son, why you talkin' to him?” Mickey asked.
“He lost his puppy, Daddy,” Yevgeny said. “He wants us to help him find it.”
Mickey stared at the man, disgusted. The man looked like he would soil himself at any given second.
“Really? That line?” Mickey asked.
“I really did lose my dog,” The man stammered.
“So go look!” Mickey barked. “You don't need to be askin' some kid!”
Ian walked over, a concerned/wary look on his face. Baby Gavrel whimpered in his arms.
“I'm leaving, okay?” The man said, hands up defensively. “I'm gone.”
Mickey grabbed him by the front of his shirt and slammed his head on the hood of the nearest car. Ian scooted close to Yevgeny and pulled the boy's head against his side, rubbing the side of his head affectionately.
“If I ever see you around my son again,” Mickey warned. “Around my family, I'll chop your nuts off so you can never perv on another kid.”
He released the man and gave him a rough shove forward. After he was out of sight, Mickey turned to Ian and Yevgeny, flicking his nose awkwardly.
“You okay?” He asked Yevgeny. “He touch you?”
“My arm,” Yevgeny said.
Mickey gave Ian a look and then gave Yevgeny a playful slap on the back.
“Come on,” he told him. “Let's ride.”
“We gotta move,” Mickey said as he and Ian prepared for bed.
“Where would we go?” Ian wanted to know, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Money's tight as it is. I'm gonna have student loan debts coming out of my ass...”
“I don't care,” Mickey said, going to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “We'll make it work. I wanna live somewhere my kids can ride their fuckin' bikes without perverts popping out of the cracks in the fuckin' sidewalk.”
Ian joined him to brush his own teeth. After the simultaneously rinsed and spit, Ian looked at Mickey carefully and said, “I could dance again. Just enough to get a small down payment on a house.”
“No,” Mickey said.
“It would still be a South Side house, but-”
“No,” Mickey repeated. “We'll figure something out. I mean, I make decent money at the plant. I'll ask around, see what comes up.”
As they climbed into bed, Ian said, “I guess this is a bad time to tell you I want another kid.”
“You're shitting me right?” Mickey half chuckled.
Ian looked down at the comforter, his lips folded in. Mickey sighed.
“Ian, we have a brand new baby,” he said.
“I don't mean now,” Ian said quickly. “Maybe when Gavvie's two? I just think we should plan for it.”
“Oh, sure, I'll just post-pone that hysterectomy I was planning on,” his husband replied sarcastically.
“I already talked to Svetlana,” Ian told him. “She's up for it. She wants to try for a girl.”
“Fuck that.” Mickey laid down and shielded his eyes from the lamp light with his arm.
“Fuck what? A baby or a girl?” Ian laid down next to him.
“What would we do with a girl, huh?” Mickey asked, still covering his eyes.
Ian grinned, knowing he was breaking him down already. He kissed Mickey's shoulder, and then his neck, and then his ear.
“You know you want one,” he said.
“Mmm...” Mickey grunted and then said, “Fuck, I sound like Yevgeny.”
Ian laughed.
Every day Yevgeny spent at his fathers' apartment, he waited impatiently for one or both of them to go outside so he could ride his bike. Mickey and Ian had a strong feeling he would be off of training wheels before he started kindergarten.
Kindergarten, speaking of which, was creeping up on them. Svetlana brought over a thick packet she'd received in the mail of all of the things Yevgeny was supposed to know before he even started his first official year of school. As Mickey and Ian browsed through it, Mickey shook his head.
“Isn't he supposed to learn all this stuff when he gets there? What's the fuckin' point of kindergarten if he already goes in knowin' all his shit?”
“His colors, a basic of concept of letters and numbers, recognize his name in print...” Ian read, flipping through pages. “The good thing is he knows a lot of this stuff.”
“Man, I didn't know shit goin' into grade school,” Mickey admitted. “I didn't even learn to read till fuckin' second grade.”
Yevgeny walked into the kitchen carrying his baby brother.
“Gavvie smiled at me,” he said, grinning down at the baby he had under the armpits.
“Be careful with him,” Mickey said, taking him from Yev.
“He likes you,” Ian told him. “When he gets bigger, he's probably gonna idolize you the way I did Lip.”
“What's that mean?” Yevgeny asked, moving to the pantry to retrieve a pack of Poptarts.
“It means he'll want to be like you,” Ian explained. “He'll think you're really cool.”
Yevgeny stared at him and said, “I am really cool. I can ride my bike fast, remember?”
“Speaking of which-” Mickey folded up one of the stapled pages and bopped his son playfully on the head with it. “When do you wanna try goin' for a spin without the trainin' wheels?”
Yevgeny chewed thoughtfully. “Today?”
Mickey looked at Ian, who shrugged and said, “Sounds good to me.”
He took Gavrel from Mickey and rubbed his nose against the baby's, making little Gavvie give an adorable baby laugh.
After getting the baby dressed in outside clothes, the four of them went out to the parking lot-Mickey carrying his toolbox. He sat on the bottom step of the stairs with Yevgeny and took a wrench from his toolbox and began to remove the training wheels. Yevgeny stood on the second to last step behind him, his arms lazily draped over his father as he asked a million questions.
“Yevvie?” Ian nodded at him. “Follow me back inside for a minute.”
Yevgeny did as he was told and Ian went to to the hallway closet where Yevgeny's bicycle helmet was still in its box. In South Side you typically never owned a helmet or worried about any kind of bike safety, but Ian felt more comfortable having it for his own kid.
“A helmet!” The four-year old exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down.
They brought the helmet outside and Mickey helped to put it on him. Yevgeny mounted the bike, Mickey holding onto the handlebars. Ian watched, grinning as he bounced Gavrel slightly in his arms.
“You ready?” Mickey asked. “Just like you've been doin', Kiddo. Pedal fast.”
“Okay!” Yevgeny rocked forward. “Let go, Daddy.”
“I'm gonna give you a runnin' start,” Mickey explained.
It only took about forty seconds before Yevgeny had his first crash and burn. It took about fifteen minutes for him to blubber it all out and want back on. It took a whole sixty seconds for him to crash again and only about ten minutes to cry and get back on. In about three hours, he was able to make a whole U-turn without falling, though he was very wobbly.
“You'll get the hang of it,” Ian said, helping him up after he'd fallen again. “And once you do, you'll never forget how to do it.”
Yevgeny sniffled, staring at his bloody knee. Mickey chuckled softly, holding Gavrel as Ian scooped Yevgeny up and carried him up the stairs in one arm, holding the bike over his head with the other. Mickey followed behind them.