Work Text:
There’s a kid on his doorstep.
Pigsy blinks, once, twice, three times, but the kid is still there, fast asleep on the front steps of his noodle shop. Pigsy can only gape at the sight. He’s so confused.
What the hell is a freaking kid doing on my doorstep?
The kid seems fine – he’s asleep, his chest moving up and down, over and over. His brown hair is sticking up almost everywhere, yet some of it is also on his face, and Pigsy resists the urge to move it out of the kid’s face so it doesn’t end up in his mouth.
Pigsy sighs, locks the door behind him, and steps over the kid, dumping the trash bag he’s been carrying into the dumpster nearby. He then walks back to the kid and slowly, ever so slowly, picks him up and carries him in his arms, deciding to take him all the way home. The kid doesn’t stir, not even with the traffic sounds and car alarms that echo through the city streets. Pigsy looks down at the small boy in his arms and gives into the urge, moving the kid’s brown hair out of his face. He takes a good look at the boy’s face, committing the barely visible freckles, teeny tiny eyebrows, along with his spiky, fluffy, and clearly uncombed brown hair, and his dirty, ripped clothes to memory.
By now, Pigsy’s apartment has come into view, and he races up the stairs (the elevators are broken and will probably never get fixed) and slips inside his room. It’s not much – there’s an unmade bed in the middle of the room, there are clothes scattered everywhere, his wardrobe is off to the side, far away from the door, there’s a dresser in front of the bed, against the wall, right next to the door, with a sewing machine right next to it.
Pigsy steps over his clothes and sets the kid on the bed, draping one of his thinner blankets over the kid’s small form. He then crawls into bed beside him, without bothering to change out of his uniform.
Sue him. It’s been a long day.
Pigsy’s alarm wakes him up seven hours later, and he lets out his usual groan and forces himself out of bed. He yawns, gives himself a once - over in the dresser’s mirror, deems his attire fine, sprays some deodorant on, and gets ready to leave when he hears a sound.
He turns around to find the kid from last night sitting up in bed, staring at him with wide, brown eyes, which are full of tears.
Uh oh.
Pigsy turns his head to the door, and then to the kid. Then the door, then the kid. His heart feels like it’s being squeezed. He has to choose – work, or the kid?
It should be an obvious choice – but if he doesn’t go to work, how is he supposed to take care of the kid? Think, Pigsy, think… you can take off work for one day. It won’t have any lasting consequences, right?
No, it will, because he’s going to say the same thing to himself tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, and then there will be a lasting consequence. He has to go to work.
But he can’t leave the kid alone… who knows what the boy will do once he’s gone? He could get himself hurt, he could break something, he could get himself crushed underneath the dresser, and he’d be stuck like that for sixteen hours –
Then it hits him. He could take the kid with him! Sure, he might cause a bit of a ruckus, but his friend Tang could be there. Pigsy could strike a deal with Tang, saying that if he didn’t watch over the kid he’d have to pay for his own noodles… yes. This might work.
“Alright, c’mon kid. You’re coming with me.” Pigsy announces, before realizing one big problem.
What is the kid supposed to wear? Pigsy certainly doesn’t have any kid - sized clothes, and he sure as hell can’t make one for the kid in time for work. He’s already late enough as it is.
Pigsy sighs and pulls out his phone to text Tang.
Pigsy: Can’t come to work today. Tell customers I’m out sick.
Tang: Alright, will do. Ya need me to make you soup or something?
Pigsy: Yeah, sure. Go for it. Thanks, freeloader.
Tang: Hey! I am NOT a freeloader! I take offense to that! How dare you! I am your most loyal customer EVER! PIGSY!
Pigsy doesn’t respond – he simply grins and then pockets his phone before turning back to the kid, who is still staring at him. “Alright, kid,” he says, walking back and sitting next to him, “we are staying here today.”
The kid says nothing, his expression seemingly blank – but Pigsy likes to think he can see a hint of a smile on the kid’s face.
It looks like he’s made the right choice after all.
Sewing a kid’s shirt is no easy task. First off, the kid won’t stand still. Okay, fine, he will – for all of two seconds while Pigsy’s trying to unroll the measuring tape. By this point, the kid has wandered around the room and tried to eat Pigsy’s underwear, but was luckily unsuccessful, as Pigsy managed to deprive him of his newfound treasure three seconds later. The kid bursts into tears for the first time, and Pigsy scrambles to find something to give the kid that’s not an item of clothing. Eventually, he finds a red bandana (sure, it’s an item of clothing, but at least it’s not disgusting) and uses it to tie up the kid’s hair, which is falling in his face. Once the bandana is tied around his hair securely, Pigsy manages to measure the kid, who is fully absorbed in fiddling with the red cloth in his hair. Pigsy sees this as a definite win.
Then, there’s the actual sewing part. It’s been a year and a half since Pigsy last touched a sewing machine, so it takes him quite a while. He’s finished with the right sleeve when Tang knocks on the door and then walks in, holding Pigsy’s spare key (which Pigsy likes to say that Tang stole) in one hand and a bag of food in the other. Tang sets the bag on the dresser, slips the key in his pocket, notices the kid, and lets out a loud squeal.
“PIGSY! I knew you weren’t sick, I knew something else was going on, you lying, son of a – ” he steals a glance at the kid and pauses “you know what, which I can’t say because there’s a two year old in your room WHICH YOU NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT!”
Pigsy grunts in response and then says, “You were gonna find out anyway.”
Tang rolls his eyes before turning to the kid. He leans down and says, in a sing - song baby voice, “Hey, kiddo! What’s your name?”
The kid lets out a string of babbles. Tang laughs and claps his hands. “Oh, very good!”
“He didn’t even say anything. What are you congratulating him for?” Pigsy asks, pricking his finger and pressing it against his leg with a wince.
“It’s basic psychology, Pigsy. It’s all about reinforcements. At this stage, a baby only cares about getting good vibes from adults, and if you give a baby those good vibes when he makes sounds, he’ll want more of those good vibes and, because of that, make an effort to talk.” Tang explains. “If he doesn’t get those good vibes… well, he might learn how to talk much later than normal. Who knows.”
“Oh.” Pigsy says. The kid lets out another string of babbles. Tang claps his hands and then looks expectantly at Pigsy, who sighs. Tang glares at him.
“Yeah… uh… good job, kid. Keep it up.” Is all Pigsy can say. He cringes internally and then gives the kid a double thumbs up. Tang slaps his forehead with a sigh, but the kid stares at his hands and lifts his fingers, one by one, until he lifts up his thumb. He then raises both hands into the air as he returns Pigsy’s gesture, and Pigsy can’t help but whoop along with Tang, who glances at his friend and then shakes his head in disbelief. Pigsy then turns to Tang with a wide, smug grin. “Bet you didn’t study that in psychology.”
Tang’s cry of “I’m only on Unit Eight!” goes unheard as Pigsy leaves his chair and picks up the kid with a laugh, sewing completely forgotten.
By the end of the day, Pigsy and Tang, working together, have made the kid four shirts, two pants, two underwear, and one copy of the red bandana just in case the first one got lost. Pigsy can’t help but smile when he sees the kid dressed in a yellow, long sleeved shirt, blue colored pants that Tang tried to make look like jeans, one of the two underwear, and his previous red bandana. The kid babbles loudly as he walks around the room before coming over to Pigsy and wrapping his entire body around his leg.
Pigsy’s heart melts. That’s when he realizes that he’s grown attached, and there’s nothing he can do about it. And judging by the way Tang is grinning, it seems he knows it too, and is planning to hold it over Pigsy’s head for the rest of his life.
Oh well. He’ll take the teasing if he has to. But he doesn’t let it show and glares at Tang, who’s starting to giggle. The kid babbles again and looks up at Pigsy, giving him a gummy smile.
The next day, he takes the kid to work with him. At first, the kid simply babbles as Pigsy carries him and sets up shop, but when customers start filing in, he’s forced to set the kid down and begins making noodles. After ten minutes, he feels something wrap around his leg, and he looks down to see the kid holding onto him with tears in his eyes.
“Kid,” Pigsy says softly, “you can’t be in the kitchen.”
The kid just stares at him with watery eyes. Pigsy sighs and picks up the kid, who babbles excitedly, until he’s set down at a table next to Tang. Pigsy’s just reached the door of the kitchen when the sound of crying fills the room.
He turns around to see Tang trying to comfort him, but the kid won’t stop. Customers are glaring at the kid now, and someone yells out, “Make him stop!”
Pigsy walks back to the kid and picks him up. It’s like magic – the wails cease immediately. He groans. “Kid, you can’t be in the kitchen, it’s dangerous.” Pigsy says, so he sets the boy down again, moving to leave. The cries start up again. Pigsy picks him up, and the crying stops. He turns to Tang, who gives him a sheepish grin.
Great. Just great.
Eventually, he sets the kid on his shoulders, letting him poke and prod at his face as he cooks. This way, the kid doesn’t get too near the stove, Pigsy’s got an eye on him at all times and will know when he moves, and the kid gets what he wants and doesn’t bother all the customers with his crying. Everybody wins.
He’ll deal with the laughter from customers, who take one look at the kid and begin giggling. He can also deal with the teenage girls who aren’t even here to buy noodles – they just want to see the baby. Pigsy is really annoyed the first time this happens – he asks for their order, and his eye twitches when they tell him that they wanted to see the baby. Luckily, the kid isn’t fond of them and won’t stop crying (luckily quietly) until Pigsy kicks them out, barking, “OUT!” and pointing a finger at the door. The kid points to the door as well and babbles.
The girls leave, looking highly offended. Pigsy grins and the kid giggles, holding up his thumbs again. Pigsy then spots Tang hiding his laughter behind his psychology textbook and grins wider before getting back to business.
Eventually, they fall into a routine. A pattern.
Pigsy wakes up at 7:30 in the morning and leaves for work once Tang arrives at his apartment. Tang then stays with the kid until 10:00, usually studying for his psychology course or watching random videos on his phone at a low volume until the kid wakes up. Tang then takes him to the shop, where Pigsy will hand him food for the kid while he works. Once the kid is done eating, he’ll hang out on Pigsy’s shoulders for a few hours, babbling and pinching Pigsy’s face while Tang continues studying and gets his free noodles. Then, the kid is given lunch and takes a nap in a booth next to Tang, who is either studying, eating, or goofing off with Pigsy, who’s on his lunch break. After about two hours, the kid wakes up and plays with some toys that a few people have donated, taking an interest in a monkey plushie and disregarding all the other ones while Pigsy continues serving noodles. Once Pigsy clocks off, he and Tang go their separate ways, and Pigsy takes the kid home, where they both fall asleep if the kid isn’t already.
But one day, something happens.
It starts out like any other day, up until the kid’s nap, otherwise known as Pigsy’s lunch break. Normally, once his break is done, Pigsy will wake up the kid and hand him the monkey plushie, which he’ll take and start playing with. But today, when Pigsy tries to wake up the kid, nothing happens.
Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic…
Tang picks up on his distress and the problem almost immediately. “Kid?” he asks, trying to shake the kid awake. “Hey, kid, wake up! I’ve got your monkey plushie…” Tang waves it in the air, but the kid remains asleep. Pigsy begins to panic.
“Why isn’t he waking up?” Pigsy asks, tapping the kid’s face. Then he puts a hand on his forehead, which is much warmer than it should be. “Tang, he’s sick!” Pigsy gasps. “We have to get him to a hospital, or something – ”
So they do just that. Pigsy closes up shop and he and Tang run towards the nearest hospital. The kid is shivering now, so Pigsy pulls off his coat and wraps him in it tightly. His heart is pounding with each step he takes, so he’s panting by the time they reach the hospital a few blocks away. Finally, the kid is admitted, and he collapses in a chair in the waiting room.
“He’ll be okay,” Tang reassures his friend. “Trust me.”
Pigsy just nods. He ends up staying at the hospital the whole night with Tang by his side. Eventually, a nurse shakes him awake, making him realize that he’d fallen asleep.
“Your son’s okay.” The nurse smiles, and Pigsy lets out a sigh of relief. “But we need his name…” her voice trails off, and it hits him that he doesn’t know.
“He’s not my son. I just found him.” Pigsy says. “And I don’t know his name.”
The nurse just nods and walks away. It takes another hour for Pigsy to fall back asleep in the stiff, metal chair.
“I’ve decided.” Pigsy says. “Kid, you need a name.”
The kid just babbles before climbing into Pigsy’s bed. Tang looks up from his book. He’s taken the day off from work and made Tang over. Luckily, the kid’s fever has gone down, and he seems perfectly healthy. “About time!” Tang says, snapping the book shut. “I was worried he’d go around nameless forever.”
Pigsy, who’s sitting on his bed, throws a pillow at him. Tang uses his book as a shield. The kid laughs before babbling again. “Mmmmmmkkkkkkkk.”
Pigsy and Tang turn to stare at the kid. “What did he just say?” Tang whispers. Pigsy just shrugs.
“Mmmmmmkkkkkkk.” The kid babbles again. Tang lets out a gasp and grabs the monkey plushie off the dresser. The kid cheers. “Mmmmmkkkkkkk!”
“Monkey!” Tang exclaims. “He’s trying to say the word monkey! Too bad the only letters he’s able to say are M and K…” Tang sighs and leans down towards the kid. “You’ll get there, buddy!”
M and K…
That’s it!
“That’s it!” Pigsy exclaims. “MK! His name is MK.”
Tang looks up with a grin. “Pigsy, that’s perfect!”
Pigsy laughs. “I know!”
Tang throws the pillow back at him.
“Hey!”
Life goes on, in the end.
Tang finishes his psychology course. Pigsy can’t believe it.
MK learns some new words. “Dada!” he babbles, before grabbing onto Pigsy’s leg. Pigsy promptly goes into shock.
Pigsy and Tang discover that MK likes climbing things. This happened when he jumped from Pigsy’s shoulders and onto the fridge on a random Wednesday at work. He got applause from the customers and a concerned scolding from Pigsy. “You cannot do that again, you hear? You could’ve gotten hurt!” But he does it again and again, and Pigsy can’t stop him.
Several of MK’s birthdays go by, and he makes a friend. Her name is Mei, and Pigsy and Tang both get very strong feelings of deja vu when they see her. But she and MK become great friends, and Pigsy couldn’t be happier, especially when MK is old enough to help with the shop and deliver noodles. He says no to the idea at first, saying that they don’t do deliveries, but MK wins him over with puppy dog eyes and he gives in. He does a great job and follows all of Pigsy’s rules with a smile.
And then he finds a staff. Monkey King’s staff. And everything turns upside down, but by the end of it all, he couldn’t be prouder of his kid.
Of his son.
“Proud of you, son.” He whispers one night after putting MK to bed.
He didn’t see this coming. He didn’t see any of this coming.
But he wouldn’t have it any other way.