Chapter Text
“Yeah, I’ve been fucking waiting for him, Ian!”, Mickey drives around the school parking lot in a beaten-up white Toyota that Ian proudly named ‘the cow’ after its black spots of grime and wear. He squints through the wind shield wipers, searching through the crowd of high schoolers in a sea of umbrellas. “It’s been 20 minutes, I called his phone about a hundred times, and he won’t fucking pick up!”.
“You have his location, remember Mickey?”, Ian replied over the phone. Mickey did not remember.
“You know I’m not good at this parenting shit”. A few months ago, Mickey and Ian barely had time to register when Svetlana gave them Yevgeny. She gave no explanation, and the kid himself never spoke about it. Then again, Yevgeny didn’t speak to them about much of anything. He just went to school every day, and came back late, with nothing but an obligatory ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to his fathers.
“That’s called critical thinking, Mick”.
“Shut the hell up”, Mickey smiled. He didn’t think he’d be satisfied with the domestic life, but marriage with Ian made Mickey the happiest he’s ever been.
As Mickey opened his son’s location, he wished anyone else could have picked Yevgeny up from school today. Ian insisted Yev shouldn’t have to walk in the rain, not when he had two parents. But with Ian’s inflexible paramedic hours at the fire station, Mickey was the only option. The real reason Mickey assumed, was that Ian wanted Mickey to ‘bond’ with him, but Ian wouldn’t admit that.
Mickey followed the map on his phone away from the school to a nearby side street. “Where the hell is this kid…”. Mickey turned down the car radio dial to concentrate on the road. The rain was heavier now, and Mickey could barely see three feet in front of him.
“Fuck!”, something crashes on the car hood. Mickey slams the breaks. He couldn’t have hit the car in front of him. He couldn’t have. Horns beep behind him. “Fucking assholes”. Mickey pulls over to the side of the road. Stepping out to assess the damage, Mickey turns and sees teen aged kids standing on the sidewalk.
“Yevgeny?!”, one of the kids turn their heads slowly his same ice blue eyes meeting Mickey’s. “What the…”, Yevgeny goes silent while Mickey notices another boy picking up a rock and aiming for a car. Mickey turns to look at his own car, a rock denting its front. Yevgeny runs.
Mickey tackles Yevgeny to the mud, “I SWEAR TO GOD, I’LL KILL YOU YEVGENY!”.
———
“Why the hell would you throw rocks at cars?” Mickey drives home, drenched and covered in grime because Yevgeny couldn’t help but cause trouble.
“It wasn’t me throwing rocks”, Yevgeny spoke with a hint of his mother’s accent but all of his father’s voice. “I was just watching”.
“So you ‘watched’ as your shitty friends threw rocks at your own father’s car?”, Mickey raised his eyebrows, challenging Yevgeny through the rear-view mirror. Yev stayed quiet, putting his hands in his pockets to hide them trembling and put on the toughest face he could muster. “We took you in because we felt bad. We don’t need to keep you here Yev. You don’t wanna be here? We could always send you back”.
Yevgeny winced at Mickeys last sentence and mumbled something under his breath. “What was that?”
“I said I’m fucking sorry!”.
Mickey slams on the breaks and turns to face Yevgeny. “DON’T FUCKING SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT!”.
Yevgeny swiftly opens the car door and dashes off into the night. Leaving the door open and Mickey screaming in his wake. Mickey leaves the car. Running after him but it’s too late. Yevgeny is gone.
———
Yevgeny Milkovich is on his own. He knows he fucked up. He knows he can’t survive on the streets of south side Chicago alone. But what choice does he have? His mother abandoned him. His father doesn’t want him. Yevgeny learned from a young age that no one in this world would take care of him, he would have to do it himself.
Yevgeny stumbled groggily down the street. His stomach ached with hunger. He leaned against a wall and blinked away a dizzy spell.
He eyed a convenience store a couple feet away. It was the only place open on the block. Yevgeny had no idea what time it was, but it couldn’t have been an hour after sunrise. He fixed his posture and walked through the door, the bell jingling as it closed back.
The cashier leaned against the counter, he was an older man, with a greying beard. Yevgeny heads to a back aisle to avoid cameras, stuffing a wrapped sandwich into his jacket pocket.
Yev looks around to see if anyone has noticed. A guy Yevgeny’s age clears his throat, lips curled dangerously, smirking at Yev in approval. He wears gold rings around each thumb, pointer and middle finger and a chain around his neck to match. His brown curly hair frames his face like a crown.
Yev forces himself to look away. Moving toward the door to sneak out of the shop, when the cashier calls, “aren’t you going to order?”. Yev instinctively speeds up his step as the cashier continues. “HEY! I’m talking to you!”. He runs when he hears the footsteps chasing after him.
Yev makes it to the door. BANG. Yevgeny freezes. A searing pain hits his shoulder. He looks over and sees blood pouring down his arm. He hears a grunt behind him. A yell. The teenage boy from earlier is pushing Yev out of his stupor. “RUN!”. The boy’s voice commands Yevgeny.
They run down the street together. Yev doesn’t know to where. Eventually they stop. Yev notices the boy is carrying a gun. It must have belonged to the shop owner; the gun that shot his shoulder. Seeing Yevgeny surprise, the boy laughs, “Nobody around here has the balls to rob the Kash N Grab since the owner went fucking insane. Everybody who does gets shot”. He nods to Yev’s wound as example. “You alright over there?”.
Yevgeny stays silent, holding his shoulder and swaying on his feet. He would introduce himself, but it just felt like too much work. Yevgeny vaguely thought that anemia might be the cause. Finally, his vision goes black.
———
Yevgeny wakes up to the sound of soft jazz. He peels his eyes open. He’s lying on someone’s bed. The room is decorated, black walls and fluffy red carpet; posters of Olympic track stars and Dominic himself litter the walls and Yevgeny can count at least five mirrors.
Yevgeny sits up. His shirt is gone. A bandage covers the wound on his shoulder. The door creaks open and they meet each other’s gaze.
“You cleaned my wound,” Yevgeny decides.
“You’re welcome”, Dominic answers and plops down next to Yevgeny. Dom is holding a bottle of red wine, two glasses in his other hand.
“Thank you, Dominic. For saving me”. Dom shrugs.
He’s wearing a sleeveless tank top, and Yev can see he’s built like a body builder. Yev figured the track medals he owns must not be for show. Dom sets the glasses down on his coffee table and pours them slowly. He fills them all the way and gives one to Yevgeny, leaning his head back and slowly drinking his own. Yevgeny eyes the drink hesitantly but takes a sip out of courtesy. Dominic watches him closely. Staring at his lips.
Yevgeny doesn’t know if it’s the candles that Dominic lit or the taste of the wine, but in the next moment, kissed Dominic. Dom wrapped his arms around his waist and smiled.
Yevgeny knew he barely knew Dominic. But in the moment, the part of his brain responsible of decision making was muted by the pain of being alone. Abandoned. And he would do anything to take it away.