Raising yevgeny Milkovich

LITTLE REINDEER

Ian sighed as he finally made it outside of the restaurant and called for an Uber. He was a hundred percent beat. Between school and bar tending and waiting tables, it was a lot. Right before Ian and Mickey had gotten back together, Ian had started taking college classes. At first it was just to help him take his mind off of things, but after a while, he took it to heart and decided he would like to become a teacher-preferably an ROTC instructor. He'd landed a scholarship for writing an essay on what it was like to have a disability (the one good thing his stupid disorder had ever done for him) and he'd gotten to attend the University and dorm with Lip. After that, he'd started to take his meds regularly, get a job where men and drugs couldn't tempt him into a downward spiral again, and then he'd called Mickey out of the blue and attempted to become friends again and gradually rebuild their relationship, but Mickey was eager to pick up exactly where they'd left off.

Now, two years later, Ian was halfway done with school, working, and married-with a kid. As he waited on the Uber, he texted Mickey that he was on his way home. Mickey texted back that he'd gotten stuff to make ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner. Ian couldn't help but smile. When Mickey cooked, it was always pizza or sandwiches or some skillet meal that came frozen in a bag.

When he arrived home, he was greeted by Yevgeny, who must had been dropped off by Svetlana while he was at work. The two year old ran over to him and held up his arms to be held.

"Hold me," he ordered.

Ian picked him up. Yev played with his black tie.

Hey." Mickey approached him, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "How was work?"

"Long," Ian said. "What time did Yevvie get here?"

" 'Bout an hour ago," Mickey replied as Ian put the toddler down.

Mickey motioned for him to come back to the table to finish his sandwich. Yev sat down at the table and took a bite, doing a little side to side dance in his chair.

"How was school?" Mickey asked.

"Alright," Ian replied. "I can't wait until next week when finals are over."

He moved into the kitchen to make himself a sandwich, but his husband handed him an already-made one. Ian sat down in the chair beside Yev, scooting the toddler's chair closer to the table. Mickey ate his sandwich at the counter standing up. For several minutes, none of them said anything.

Daddy, I'm done," Yev said. "Now I can have fruit snacks?"

Mickey nodded and Yev trotted over to the pantry and opened the door, retrieving a pouch of dinosaur shaped fruit snacks from the box.

"Uh oh," he said. "The box is empy."

"Throw it away," Mickey said absent-mindedly.

Yev did as he was told and climbed into Ian's lap, shoving the pouch in his face. Ian opened it for him.

"Thank you," the toddler said, and Ian rested his chin on the mop of dark hair, still eating his sandwich.

For a while, Yev said nothing while Ian and Mickey talked about work and family and Christmas. Christmas was coming up soon and they didn't even have a tree yet.

"We'll do it this weekend," Mickey said when Ian brought it up. "Don't worry about it."

"Yev was too little to understand Christmas last year," Ian said. "But it'll mean something to him this year."