Work Text:
The subway was crowded, to say the very least. Its hinges gritted against the rails with an end-of-day torpor, mirroring the mood of the exhausted passengers. Sergei took a difficult deep breath as he softly shuffled among the sea of people, his long, rectangular drawing bag nearly glued to his puffy black jacket.
“Next stop: Kheruvim Boulevard.”
His void-like eyes quickly scanned the moving cubicle, landing on some people’s faces before he felt the subway slow down. His agile fingers twitched, mind unfolding lines and brush strokes according to the strangers’ physical demeanors. He couldn’t help it.
The train finally slowed down, revealing the white tiled station as if shaking an old photograph. Sergei cleared his throat, making sure the people around him would give him space to almost crawl through to escape that enormous tuna can. The man was able to get out just a couple of seconds before the familiar door alarms began to chime in, enclosing those who hadn’t gotten home yet. He sighed, hands on his knees to discreetly stretch. It was 6PM, and only a couple of heads could be counted waiting for more trains to come. Sergei re-adjusted his scarf, a clumsy yet somehow adorable mixture of colors among plain white yarn, quickly running up the stairs and swiping his card.
The air outside was chillier than usual, probably the coldest it had been since the cataclysm. His usually freezing body, however, did not mind it. If nature was in harmony with him, he shouldn’t take it for granted. A soft smile crept up his lips as he felt the crunchy sound of snow beneath his feet, his steps fast and consistent, knowing exactly where to head to.
It didn’t take long to reach the daycare. A cozy, albeit sharp-looking building, decorated with bright yellow letters and a smiling rainbow right above its porch. He quickly got inside, closing the entrance doors so as not to let the cold outer ambience ruin the warmth of the main hall and the spacious playroom on the left. Mothers and fathers were crouched in the playroom, embracing their tired but nonetheless giggly children and getting them ready to leave. His eyes quickly left them to face the approaching woman, her messy bun and wide glasses a sight always so memorable.
“Evening, Mr. Smirnov!” Korina politely spoke, her eyes disappearing behind her comforting smile. “She’s getting ready to leave. You know how she struggles a little with the jacket zipper…”
He chuckled, adjusting his bag before retributing the smile to his old housemate. “Yesenin and I have been trying to teach her how to get around it…but, you know, she’s only three.”
“I see you’re using her little gift for you!” The kindergarten teacher folded her arms. “I’m teaching them how to make mittens next. Perhaps I could suggest her a pair for your husband.”
“Oh, yeah!” Sergei couldn’t stop smiling, a hint of purple dyeing his cheeks. “This scarf is just the cutest thing ever, I couldn’t not use it, you know-”
His speech was interrupted by the sound of little steps echoing on the wooden floor of the playroom, a familiar giggle accompanying them.
“DADDY!”
Sergei’s smile widened even more, crouching with open arms to embrace his daughter, swiftly picking her up and letting her rest on the crook of his left arm, her tiny hands playing with his gauge earrings.
“You ready to go, little miss?” He inquired, his expression jokingly serious, making Anastasia burst out laughing before nodding enthusiastically.
“Hold on, lemme say goodbye- “
Sergei nodded, slowly walking towards a little girl the same age as Anastasia, a toothy grin with a gap in the middle meeting the two as she was mindlessly putting Lego pieces together.
“Say ‘bye, Lena!’”
“Buh-bye, Lena! Mwah!” Anastasia chirped, her left hand attempting to send her best friend an air kiss.
“Bye, Any!”
“Alright” Sergei said, warmly waving Yelena goodbye before turning around, biding goodbye to the kindergarten teacher before leaving with his daughter.
He carried her in his arms throughout the whole journey home. Their family apartment wasn’t too far from the kindergarten, and he did not want Anastasia’s feet touching the thick snowy ground. Sure, she was wrapped in layers after layers, a tiny scarf and a beanie protecting her neck and her black-haired head respectively, a pair of impermeable boots tightly tied around her feet. His tube-shaped case wasn’t helping either, one of his shoulders nearly yelping in pain upon its weight. But Sergei didn’t care. He just didn’t want his daughter to feel cold.
The elevator ride up wasn’t too long either, the number 3 quickly appearing on its tiny display before its doors automatically opened. Sergei mindlessly walked towards the apartment door, his left hand digging in the pockets of his low-rise jeans, carefully fishing for his keys. He was able to find them, immediately taking them out and unlocking the apartment door. Well, he just opened the door. Sergei looked at the doorknob in confusion before feeling the scent of boiling meat emanating from the kitchen. He instantly recognized the tall, lanky figure looming over the kitchen counter, his hidden hand movements suggesting he was cutting a couple of vegetables. He turned around as soon as he heard the dry thud of the door closing, his sharp features quickly turning into a warm expression, a soft smile blooming from the corners of his lips.
“Yesenin!”
“PAPA!!”
Sergei chuckled, gently placing Anastasia on the floor. She ran towards her other father as soon as her feet touched the ground, giggling uncontrollably as Yesenin picked her up and raised her up as much as he could.
“How’s the air up there, little lady?” He felt immense joy upon listening to his daughter’s giggles, her dark hair shuffling around with each giggle. He too carefully put her down before approaching his husband.
“How was work, snowman?” Yesenin muttered after sharing a quick, soft kiss with his lover. “I see you brought the pipe in today.”
“Silly.” Sergei blurted out with a smile as he undid his ponytail, his agile hands ruffling his own hair. “I had to, I’ve got a bunch of pieces to finish during the weekend. Plus, some students’ work I need to grade.”
Yesenin jokingly rolled his deep blue eyes back, placing his long hands on his husband’s shoulders. “Not tonight. Tonight, you’ll eat, and you’ll rest, and you’ll sleep over four hours.”
“Yese…”
“Come on.” He took his hands off Sergei, approaching the kitchen. “I’m making such a great dinner…Ana’s favorite!”
“Oh!” The little girl’s eyes widened. “Rasso…niko?”
“Yes, sweetheart, rassolnik!”
Sergei couldn’t help but smile at his daughter’s pure joy. “Okay, fine. Tonight, I won’t work.”
“Wonderful.”
***
Dinner had been prepared, served, and eagerly eaten. Anastasia was now happily swinging her legs on a lilac-toned beanbag, her tall, lanky father sitting cross-legged on the wide couch behind her. Her other father, however, was busy picking up a pile of DVDs from behind the square-shaped TV of the living room.
“Hm…” Sergei’s cat-like eyes flipped through the various titles in front of him, colorful plastic cases on his hands. “How about…Beauty and the Beast?”
The little girl nodded negatively. “Watched at daycare last week.”
“Let’s see…uh…oh! Barbie and the Nutcracker?”
Anastasia gestured negatively once again. “Better for Christmas.”
“You have a point there…”
“Oh..! Daddy! Daddy!”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“That…that one!” Anastasia pointed at one of the cases in Sergei’s hands.
“What, this one?” Sergei looked at the case, then glancing at his daughter with a tired grin. “The Nightmare Before Christmas?”
“Yes!”
“Again?”
“Again!”
Sergei chuckled, his heart doing backflips as he saw his daughter giggling in excitement. “Alright, Jack Skellington it is.”
“Yay, Jack!!”
***
It didn’t take long for Anastasia to eventually fall asleep. Yesenin turned off the TV, seeing that not only his daughter but his husband was already fast asleep. While Anastasia was slumped over her beanbag, Sergei was comfortably leaning against Yesenin, his head finding support on his boney shoulder. The tall man sat in silence for a while, drinking the sight and the feeling of his lover resting against him, his naturally cold skin marking its territory against his. But he’d have enough time for more enamoring in bed.
Yesenin gently got off the couch, making sure Sergei wouldn’t lose his balance upon his absence. He approached the beanbag, crouching to pick his sleepy daughter up, then standing up and slowly walking towards her bedroom. He didn’t bother to turn on its lights, fearing that Anastasia, already peacefully asleep, would suddenly wake up and start crying. The rest was simple: tuck her in bed, adjust the pillows. He placed a soft kiss on Anastasia’s forehead before exiting the bedroom, silently closing its doors.
Sergei had unfortunately woken up. He was slowly getting off the couch, half-open eyes gazing at his husband’s figure as soon as he got in the room again.
“Any fell asleep. I put her in bed.” He murmured. “And you, mister, should go to bed too. You’re exhausted.”
“Yeah…” Sergei scoffed, rubbing his right eye with his right hand. “You too.”
Yesenin nodded. Both trailed to their bedroom.
***
Thirty minutes had passed. The two men were now comfortably lying on their king-sized bed, feeling the soft flannel of each other’s pajama sets touch their own. Yesenin’s hands caressed Sergei’s dark hair, nose feeling its scent. Home.
“Yese.” Sergei muttered, his voice reverberating against Yesenin’s chest.
“Hm?”
“Thank you for the food.”
“No need to thank me. I’m your husband, after all.”
Sergei blushed, his hands grasping Yesenin’s back even more.
“I’m…really happy that you arrived home early.” He whispered, shuffling his head to face Yesenin, full-blown pupils meeting his. “Not that we don’t see each other everyday but…I don’t know, it just made me really happy. And seeing Any so happy to see you…”
Yesenin smiled. Sergei felt his chest warming up.
“I just did what I could. Had a couple of hours off so…”
“Oh, stop it, you…you need to give yourself more credit. You’re an amazing husband, an amazing father, a fantastic poet—"
“Alright, enough.” Sergei could see Yesenin’s face turn a shade warmer. “You’re right.”
“I know I am.”
Yesenin reached for his lover’s right eyelid, placing his lips on it.
“I love you, Sergei.”
The colder man smiled against his chest.
“I love you too, my Yesenin.”