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The first time she did it, Mickey thought it might have been the funniest shit he’d ever heard his daughter say. Honestly, Moni was constantly saying and doing hysterical things - Mickey wasn’t sure if it was just because she was his kid, or if she was really a natural comedian, but regardless, the little girl never failed to crack him up on the daily. He got it now, why there would be whole-ass tv programs dedicated to the funny shit kids got into, and Mickey liked to think that, if given the chance, Moni would steal the fucking show every time. Perhaps he was just a little biased, but Mickey didn’t really think it was that far fetched.
That being said, on this particular occasion, it wasn’t just what Moni said, but the way that Ian reacted that had Mickey busting a gut. She had been laying on the living room floor with her crayons and washable markers spread out around her in no particular order, intently working on yet another masterpiece that would be proudly displayed on the fridge once she was done. Mickey hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but as he watched his daughter scribble, he had somehow slid from the couch to the floor. Initially, he had intended to relax before bed and watch some tv, but it was always much more interesting watching the five year old draw anyway. A rerun of some Wrestlemania cage match played in the background while Mickey rested his back against the couch, smiling absently at the way Moni’s tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on coloring.
“What color is the sky, Papa?” The little girl had asked spontaneously, and Mickey wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly at first.
“Huh?” Mickey had murmured.
Moni had turned to him, pointing at the only part of her picture that wasn’t colored yet- the sky, which housed a bright yellow sun that she had just finished filling in. “What color should I make the sky?” She rephrased the question, seeming a little annoyed that he hadn’t understood the first time.
“Uh…” Mickey hadn’t been sure whether to be confused or amused, “I mean, you should probably make it blue, dontcha think?”
Moni glanced back at her drawing, contemplating his answer. “I wanna make it red!” She finally decided, seizing a ruby red crayon before she began to go to town on the drawing.
“Good choice, now it looks all scary.” Mickey chuckled. His kid was a rebel at heart.
As Mickey watched his daughter scribbling away at the oddly colored sky, he saw his husband enter the room in his peripheral vision, holding something in his hand.
“Almost bedtime Moni!” Ian announced, and Mickey could instantly feel the little girl freeze at hearing the dreaded words. But, as if to soften the blow, Ian appeared to have brought a peace offering with him. “First, how about a bedtime snack?” He cooed, setting a little bowl of green grapes down beside her before plopping down on the couch. Only then did Mickey return to his original seat, pushing himself back up onto the couch beside his husband.
Moni dropped her crayon and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She loved grapes - they were her favorite snack to have before bed, in lieu of oreos or something else sugary that would have her bouncing off of the walls rather than settling down for sleep.
She grabbed the bowl, and crossed her legs, grinning appreciatively at her father.
“Thanks, Ian .”
Ian’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline as he peered down at her with wide eyes. “U-um, come again?” He stuttered, in shock.
Moni burst into a fit of giggles, nearly dropping the bowl as her little belly shook with laughter. “That’s your name, Daddy! Ian !” Moni cackled, rocking backward and popping a grape into her mouth.
Mickey caught Ian’s look of surprise and snorted loudly. “She’s not wrong, man!” He chuckled, despite the way that Ian glared at him for the statement.
Moni seemed pleased that she had made at least one of her parents laugh, even at the expense of the other. “ Ian Ian Ian Ian !” She began to chant, clambering to her feet and bringing her snack with her as she climbed up onto the couch between them. “ Iaaaaaaaaaan !” She sang, kicking her legs.
Mickey couldn’t help himself - he barked with laughter, sliding down in his seat as his eyes began to tear up.
“Uh huh…” Ian ignored his husband’s laughter at his expense, but couldn’t help but crack a small smile at the little girl’s sweet giggles and excitement at what she seemed to be getting away with. “It’s just Daddy to you, actually.” He leaned closer to her and stole a grape out of her bowl, anticipating the glare he was about to receive. A little tit-for-tat always worked with Moni, just like her Pops.
Moni shook her head emphatically. “Nuh uh, Aunt Debs calls you Ian and Uncle Lip calls you Ian and Aunt Mandy calls you-“
“Again, she’s got a really good-ass point!” Mickey snickered, accidentally-on-purpose encouraging his daughter to keep it up. He was having the time of his life.
“Even Papa calls you Ian!” Moni concluded, pointedly resting her back against Ian’s ribs and pushing her feet into Mickey’s all in one go - taking up an enormous amount of couch despite being so small.
“Yeah, ‘cause they’re big people. Grown-ups. You’re my kid, so what are you supposed to call me?” He tried a different tactic, while wrapping his arm around her chest and dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
“ IAAAAAAAN !” Moni squawked, her mouth full of half chewed grapes.“You and Papa said I am a big girl.” She insisted.
Mickey covertly hid his wide grin with a hand over his mouth, but he knew he wasn’t fooling anybody. It was true, they did use the “ big girl ” card every time they ran out of other tactics to get her to listen, so it only made sense that it was bound to come back and bite them hard in the ass. Any time they were angling to convince Moni to finish her vegetables, brush her teeth, or get dressed for preschool, both Ian and Mickey had gotten into the habit of trotting out the old faithful “ you’re a big girl now ” catchphrase, as if they were in a pull-ups commercial or some shit. It was a matter of pride for Moni - she wanted to be a big girl, not a baby, and so they could manage to get her to do just about anything they wanted her to by using that desire against her.
“I mean… I don’t know.” Ian shrugged. “Suddenly you’re too grown, callin’ me by my first name like you own the place. I don’t think that’s the case… unless you start forking over some money each month to pull your weight. That sound good to you? You wanna start paying rent in my house?” He asked with his pointer finger tickling her belly, knowing much of what he was saying was going over her head. Moni shook her head no and kept laughing, trying and failing to catch Ian’s large hands in her small ones as he evaded her grasp..
Mickey rolled his eyes, and smirked fondly at Ian. “Askin’ a five year old to cough up rent? Nice parenting, Red.” Mickey teased. He glanced down into Moni’s lap to see that the bowl of grapes was officially empty and so he grabbed it and set it on the side table, before scooping up the little girl in his arms. “Only thing this kid needs to do is catch some z’s. Big day at preschool tomorrow.”
“We get to finger paint!” Moni exclaimed, as if they hadn’t been hearing all about it for days now.
“Right. So say g’night, Monkey.” Mickey insisted, stopping at the side of the couch so that he could dangle their daughter in front of Ian’s face.
Moni reached out to grasp Ian’s face and planted a kiss on his forehead, just the way he always did to her. “Night, IAN!” She cackled.
“Goodnight, most recent Gallagher-Milkovich evictee.” He smiled back at her, tapping her button nose. He glanced up at Mickey when he heard a scoff, “What? We both know she’s not gonna be able to make rent.”
Mickey shook his head at the silliness of the whole situation, hefting Moni over his shoulder and heading towards the stairs. “Don’t worry kiddo, I’ll cover for you til you get back on your feet.” He whispered to his daughter, more for himself than for her, considering she had little to no concept of what they were going on about. It was still hilarious to him that Moni was bold enough to call either of them by their first name - especially considering how young she was.
Kids are fuckin’ wild, Mickey thought as he trudged up the stairs with a half asleep Moni drapped over his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.
*
Mickey took a healthy swig of his unfortunately lukewarm beer and tried his best to pay attention to the conversation that was happening around him, which only got harder the warmer his fuckin’ beer got.
Another day, another inexplicable Gallagher bash. Mickey wasn’t even sure why the hell they’d congregated in the backyard of the house - Debbie had just texted Ian telling them to swing by around six with some booze. When they had arrived, the whole goddamn family was there, and Mickey knew he was in for another evening of trying to not tell Debbie to shut the fuck up at every turn. At least he had back up - not a single member of the Gallagher clan was afraid of calling her out on her bullshit, not even Franny if she was pushed too far.
As it was, he and Ian sat in rickety old lawn chairs with the rest of the gang, commiserating about their lives and relaxing as best they could in the summer heat. The kids had been splashing around in the pool for a few hours, but as it was beginning to fall dark, Moni had given up on playing with her cousins. Not even Yevgeny could persuade her to stay in the water any longer, so she was now safely snuggled against Ian’s chest, wrapped up in an oversized towel. Mickey could see from the way her blond ringlets were frizzing around the corners of her face that she was nearly dry.
Mickey finished his beer and tuned back into the conversation at the exact moment that Lip was telling the punchline of his a story - something about Freddie saying some wildly inappropriate shit in front of a group of conservative church ladies at Tami’s salon - and as the laughter died down, Mickey thought to himself that it was time for a comedic story of his own.
“Moni did something pretty hilarious the other night too.” Mickey interjected, winking at his daughter, who picked her head up from where it rested on Ian’s chest at the mention of her name. “Why dontcha tell ‘em what you called your Dad, Mon.” He prompted.
Moni perked up immediately, sitting up in her towel and glancing around at her aunts and uncles who were all waiting for her to speak.
“I called Daddy…. IAN !” Moni exclaimed excitedly, bouncing enough to easily drive the wind out of Ian. “Cuz that’s his name!” She explained wisely.
“Uh huh, you did.” Ian huffed, sounding less than enthused as he struggled to inhale a proper breath due to her bouncing. He allowed it to continue for another moment before wrapping his arms around her and trapping her towel-wrapped form in a bear hug that locked her into place.
This little interaction caused a wave of chuckles from the group.
“She’s too smart for her own good, man.” Lip commented, slinging his arm around Tami’s waist where she sat, perched lightly on the arm of his chair.
“Franny won’t stop calling me by my first name either.” Debbie grumbled, picking at the chips in her nail polish and kicking one leg over the other as she settled back into the seat. “But to be fair, she’s getting to that age where I’m just lucky she’s not just calling me ‘bitch’ .”
“She might as well join the rest of us.” Carl shot back, and everyone made various noises of disingenuous surprise as Debbie leaned over to punch her brother's arm with considerable force, causing him to nearly choke on a mouthful of beer.
“Yeah well, I wasn’t finished with my story, so just shut up for a second, alright dipshits?” Mickey interrupted what was sure to break out in a full on Gallagher fist fight. “Anyway… so Ian tells her that only ‘ big people ’ can call him that, and Moni says- tell ‘em what you said kiddo!”
Moni managed to wriggle free from Ian’s grip in order to sit up tall once more. “I said I am a big girl! So I get to call you Ian!” She stated proudly, spurred on by the laughter of the grownups around her.
“Stop encouraging her. It’s really monkey-see, monkey-do with this one - so you’d better clean up your acts.” Ian replied, swatting at Carl’s foot that was resting on his chair, before lifting the edge of her towel to dry the ends of her curls. He was intentionally avoiding eye contact because didn’t want the whole family to know how shocked (and partially saddened) he’d been by his little girl acting so grown.
Moni huffed as Ian went to town on drying her hair, but her smile was back within seconds. “You know what else?” She sang out, willing to answer whoever took her bait.
“What else, Moni?” Liam piped up, enjoying the hell out of the show that was unfolding before him.
Moni planted her hands on her hips and announced proudly, “Papa’s real name is MICKEY !”
The whole family erupted into a fit of laughter.
Everyone except Mickey.
“You’re damn right it is! That’s my smart girl. High five!” Ian dropped the towel and held up his hand towards her.
“High five!” She parroted as she slapped her palm against his.
“Ohhh, Mick, you got it comin’.” Debbie teased, sipping her iced tea with a little extra sass.
Mickey was beginning to realize exactly why it wasn’t so fucking funny.
“‘Ey!” He turned to his daughter, who was grinning wildly under the towel, clearly excited by this new avenue of annoyance she had found. “It’s only funny when you do it to him.” Mickey thumbed at Ian, desperately trying to get the kid back on his side. “It’s papa, pops, or nothin’, you hear me?”
“Mickeyyyyy!” Moni sang, mirroring her performance from the night before. She reached out to him with grasping hands. “Mickey Mickey Mickeyyyyyyy!”
“How does it feel now, fuckhead?” Ian kicked at the leg of Mickey’s chair with a juvenile scoff, laughing along with Moni and lifting her up onto her feet so she could bounce on his lap. He was planning to enjoy the man’s annoyance for as long as possible.
Mickey presented his husband with a middle finger, ignoring him in favor of trying to reason with Moni - a fool's errand, really. Once the kid got a hold of something she wasn’t likely to let it go any time soon. “Listen, squirt. How about this? We'll go get ice cream everyday for a whole week if you call me Papa like you’re supposed to. How’s that sound?” Mickey knew bribery was perhaps not the most solid parenting choice he had ever made, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Really, Mick? Keep that up and I’ll teach her your real name .” Ian gave Mickey a smug smile as Moni made an attempt to lunge in Mickey’s direction again.
“I know what Papa’s real name is.” Yevgeny commented as he walked by. He had apparently caught the end of the conversation while taking a break from swimming.
Mickey whipped his head around to look at his son, who at that point was elbow deep in the cooler, trying to find an elusive orange flavored popsicle amongst the bottles of old style and the discarded grape ones that nobody seemed to be interested in. “You really think now’s the time, Buddy?” Mickey asked through clenched teeth, his voice measured, but his expressive eyes telling an entirely different story.
Moni stopped her movements, placing a hand on Ian’s shoulder for balance as she looked over at Yev. The kid’s eyes were locked onto Mickey as he slowly backed away, unsuccessfully hiding himself behind Liam’s chair.
“WHAT’S PAPA’S NAME?!” Moni demanded, trying her best to intimidate her older brother.
Ian’s couldn’t seem to contain his laughter at how seriously his daughter was taking it. He peeked over her shoulder to look at Mickey. “I’m gonna tell her.” He teased.
As the veritable soap opera played out in front of them in real time, the rest of the Gallagher’s watched on in amusement. Ian and Mickey’s once monumental relationship issues had all but evaporated over the years, morphing into minor benign disagreements which were very entertaining to witness.
“Just do it!” Carl groaned after a tense moment of silence in which Mickey’s glare threatened to bore holes in his husband’s head.
Ian figured Mickey deserved it after all the teasing he’d put up with for the last few days. “Papa’s real name is Mikhailo.”
“ Mick-hoilo ?” Moni tilted her head to the side with confusion, her eyes focused intently on Ian.
Mickey shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose at hearing his daughter absolutely butcher his name. He hated his name - always had actually. It reminded him too much of his roots, his heritage, where he came from. He remembered insisting that it be shortened to Mickey from a very young age, mostly because the jackass kids in his grade couldn’t even pronounce it, and hardly tried.
Still, it was hard to listen to Moni and not think it was just the slightest bit adorable.
“Good try, M&M.” Mickey sighed affectionately. “Not quite though.”
“Mik-hai-lo.” Ian repeated slowly, sounding out the syllables correctly. Ian had always loved Mickey’s name, ever since they were kids. From the day he’d first heard Mandy shout it amongst a slurry of curses, Ian had been enraptured by its beauty, no matter how much Mickey hated it.
“ Mick-hay-l .”
Mickey wanted to be annoyed, but he caught himself smiling at his daughter as her little face scrunched up in an attempt to say his name. He had to admit. The only time he liked the way it sounded was when Ian said it to him, and he supposed he could include his kids into the mix. Mickey already knew that though - he was sure his family could get away with murder and he’d still be smiling.
“She’s almost got it!” Yevgeny snickered, popping up from where he had been shielding himself behind Liam’s seat, just in case things went south.
“I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never been sure how to say it.” Liam confessed with a shrug, and the Gallaghers let out another chorus of chuckles.
“Let’s keep it that way.” Mickey grunted at his youngest brother-in-law.
“Almost there, Monkey. One more try. Ready? Mik-hai-lo.” Ian split up Mickey’s name once more when Moni gave him a little attitude with the go ahead.
“ Mick-hay-lo !” Moni exclaimed, and without hesitation, she turned around in Ian’s arms and jumped towards Mickey, landing solidly in his lap once he’d moved his beer out of the way. She fisted his tank in her tiny hands as she pulled her face flush against his, looking for confirmation that she had finally gotten it right.
Mickey was confronted by Moni’s cheeky grin and her big shiny eyes and he simply couldn’t bring himself to be frustrated anymore. “You got it, babyface!”’ He declared, kissing the tip of her nose and hoisting her up above his head. “Now someone’s gonna go for a little dip in the pool…” Mickey lifted himself up from the chair, tucking Moni under his arm and carrying the giggling and squirming little girl over to where the other kids were still splashing.
“Ey, c’mon. I just finished drying her off!” Ian called out to him, lifting and shaking the towel above his head like a grumpy old man. “You’re in charge of drying her off now, Mick!”
“Sounds good to me!” Mickey flipped his husband the bird once more with his free hand.
“Yay! Play with Mickey!” Moni exclaimed, instantly reminded of her new favorite word in the English language.
“Time to make a little monkey fly !” Mickey announced, chucking his squealing daughter straight into the pool.
*
Ian stood in the doorway of Moni’s bedroom, watching Mickey lay their nearly unconscious daughter in bed. She’d had an eventful day, playing with her family, and had even convinced Yevgeny to sleep over so that she could play with him bright and early in the morning.
“G’night, Moni.” Ian hummed, having already pecked her goodnight as Mickey had passed through the door.
“Night night… Ian .” The little blonde yawned, snuggling further under the covers.
Mickey leaned in and gave his daughter one last goodnight kiss on the top of her head, making sure her favorite stuffed animals were tucked in with her, or else she would surely be up within the hour, searching for them.
Moni giggled as she grabbed a hold of Mickey’s hand before he could leave her side. “Night, Micksalo .”
Mickey squeezed his daughter's hand and rolled his eyes. “You’re askin’ for it now, kid. Go to sleep.” He muttered, slowly dropping her hand and ruffling her curls.
Moni cuddled back into her bed and her heavy eyelids began to close the minute her head hit the pillow. Both Ian and Mickey spent a few more minutes watching the little girl’s chest rise and fall steadily, and it took a lot of will power for them to eventually back out of the room, shutting the door so that only a sliver of space remained.
Mickey immediately noticed the look on Ian’s face. “What?” He whispered incredulously, knowing without fail where the conversation would be heading.
“You didn’t have a comeback, Micksalo ?” Ian teased, taking Mickey’s hand as he led him back to their living room so as not to disturb their sleeping kids. “You’re the best with nicknames and you didn’t have one ready for Moni. Everything okay up there?” He proceeded to knock on Mickey’s forehead, ducking an incoming punch by slipping down into his armchair.
Mickey barely made an effort to lash out at Ian, grunting as he collapsed onto the couch adjacent to his husband. “Yeah. Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Mickey deflected. “Last time I checked, you were the one who got your frilly little panties all bunched up over the kid calling you Ian.”
“You’re tellin’ me you don’t mind her calling you Mickey for the rest of your life? ‘Oh, Mickey, I need you to sign this permission slip. Mickey, can you buy us some pringles, we’re out .’ And in fifteen years, she’ll be right here when she says, ‘Hey Mickey, meet my fiancé. ’” Ian’s examples were a little dramatic, but so was he.
Mickey made a rather dismissive noise. “I mean, I figured at some point she’d end up calling us by our first names…” He leaned his head back against the headrest of the sofa, giving Ian a pointed look. “Didn’t think it’d be so soon though. Kinda sucks.” He wanted to elaborate, but didn’t know how. What it really boiled down to, Mickey realized, was that it just felt so impersonal. For Moni, the novelty of saying her parents’ first names was something new and exciting - for Mickey, and no doubt for Ian, it was a painful reminder of their own childhoods.
“It really fuckin’ sucks. That’s what I’ve been saying! It’s not just that it feels too grown up… it feels…” He shook his head as it finally dawned on him. “I don’t want her to start saying my name the way I used to say Frank’s.” He added with a roll of his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he propped his legs up on the coffee table in front of him.
Mickey couldn’t have agreed more. He knew exactly where Ian was coming from, and he had only just begun to realize why the whole thing was hitting a nerve for them in the way it was. “Terry didn’t deserve to be called a fuckin’ dad.” Mickey muttered, and decided that this exact sentiment was more or less the crux of the problem.
Ian’s eyes flickered up towards Mickey. Hearing those words set everything into perspective. Mickey was right that his father never deserved the love and respect of being called anything other than a sperm donor. The gravity of the comment pushed Ian into motion.
“Yeah. But we fuckin’ do, c’mon.” Ian stood from the sofa and made his way down the hall, only briefly checking over his shoulder to see if Mickey was following him.
Mickey decided to just shut up and go along with it, trailing after Ian. They came to a stop right outside of Moni’s door. “What’s the plan?” Mickey asked, glancing up at his husband.
“Just follow me.” Ian whispered, cracking open the door and tiptoeing into the room, where he observed his sleeping daughter. She looked blissfully unaware of her parents’ tumultuous emotions as Ian moved further into the room, and it was only when he got close to her that Moni began to stir.
“Hey, shh. Go back to sleep, Daddy’s got you.” Ian squatted down by her bedside and rubbed her back gently.
Mickey watched from the doorway as Moni barely cracked her eyes open and was soothed immediately by Ian’s voice, pitched upward slightly, a tender tone reserved only for those closest to him. He snapped himself out of it in an instant, trailing over to their daughter’s bedside where Ian was kneeling. He knew immediately what the plan was - Ian was bringing her to their bedroom, the way he used to do when she was a newborn. It was happening less and less as the years went by, and ever since Moni had been given her very first “ big kid bed ” she only slept in their bed when she had a particularly grisly nightmare. Mickey had never imagined sharing his bed with the tiny creature would be something he missed, but it was.
Ian didn’t say anything more as he scooped her up in his arms, hearing a little unintelligible mumble, although he was unable to make out the words that she had spoken into his shirt. He turned for the door to leave the room, pausing momentarily to look over his shoulder and make sure his husband was right by his side before continuing out of the room.
At the last minute Mickey snatched up her favorite plushie, an elephant he had forked over an obscene amount of cash for at the gift shop when they visited the Lincoln Park Zoo for her third birthday. The thing was two years old and a little matted down from the wear and tear of being subjected to Moni, but it was the toy she snuggled every night, and Mickey knew she would be looking for it in the morning.
“All set,” Mickey mouthed to Ian as he stepped out into the hallway.
“Papa?”
Mickey whirled around in front of Yevgeny’s room, the one he stayed in whenever it was their week to have him, and on occasions like this when Moni just wanted her older brother close by.
Yevgeny was standing in the doorway, wiping sleep from his eyes. “What’s happening?” He yawned.
“Yevy!” Ian whispered as he turned back, having partially pushed open the door to their bedroom. “We’re having a sleepover. I was gonna come get you next, but you saved me the trip.” He waved Yev forward. “Papa-.” Ian nodded towards Yev with his head, indicating Mickey should pick up their son.
It wasn’t a difficult task to pull the half-awake eleven year old into his arms. Yev was still a small and skinny kid, although he was growing every day and reminding Mickey more and more of himself in the process. Carrying Yevgeny was another thing he rarely did anymore - mostly because the kid was getting to the stage where he was too grown up for that shit, at least in his own mind. Mickey knew by the way that Yev just let himself be lifted that the kid was much less grown up than he thought. Mickey grinned and nodded at his husband once Yevgeny was securely tucked into his arms, as if to indicate that the procession could proceed.
Ian pushed the door the rest of the way open and carefully climbed onto the bed, trying his hardest not to disturb Moni. He laid her down in the middle of their bed, closest to his side, cuddling her to his chest and kissing her forehead the way he did every night. He wasn’t trying to wake her up, but if she happened to, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.
Mickey did his best to mimic Ian, rolling Yevgeny softly onto the bed beside his sister. There was little room left for either him or Ian, but on this occasion, Mickey didn’t care. Ian was right: they needed to remind themselves that they were fucking good parents. Great ones, even. It had taken a lot to build up their little family, and to even feel worthy of having it in the first place.
“Papa?” Moni asked Ian as she blinked her eyes open, tilting her head and looking for her current favorite.
“He’s right here, baby.” Ian pointed out, reaching over Yevgeny and rubbing Mickey’s bicep to direct her attention to him. “Daddy and Papa missed you a whole lot, so it’s sleepover night.” He cooed, pulling his little family closer.
Mickey’s heart practically melted into a puddle in his chest at the sweet words spilling from Ian’s lips. He settled into bed beside Yevgeny, who was already unconscious, and reached over to envelop both of his kids into his embrace, resting his fingertips on Ian’s shoulder. “You ain’t gotta grow up on us just yet, munchkin.” Mickey murmured, and caught the loving look Ian gave him from across the bed.
“I’m always gonna be your Daddy. And Mickey’s always gonna be your Papa.” Ian whispered to Moni, who nodded and tucked her face into his chest. She only remained there for a second before remembering Mickey's existence, at the mention of his name. Pulling away from Ian, she clumsily crawled over her brother, coming to a rest on Mickey’s chest and propping herself up on her hands for a moment to pat Mickey’s cheek with her small palm. “Papa Mickey.” She murmured, as if she were christening him before kissing his chin and cuddling up to him, smiling widely as she hid her face against the side of Mickey’s neck.
If Mickey thought his heart would melt before, he now thought the goddamn thing was going to burst like a time bomb. The heat in his chest was almost too much to handle, and he wrapped his arms so tightly around the little girl that he was sure she would ask him to ease up any minute. She didn’t, though.
Mickey turned his head as much as he could, craning to the side and catching Ian’s eye over the mountain of pillows and the top of his son’s head.
“Fuck it.” Mickey whispered. “We’re damn good parents, no matter what the rugrats wanna call us.”
Ian wrapped Yev up in his arms as he shifted closer, hugging him against his chest so that he could lay right next to Mickey. He eyed his husband with a teasing smirk before he even opened his mouth to whisper his reply.
“You’re damn right, Mickholio.”