Mickey was sitting on the front steps of his house. It was nearly one am and the air was cold, turning his cheeks a soft pink color. He glances up when he hears footsteps on the pavement. "Hey," he says to Ian. Ian grins and takes a seat down next to him.

"So you find a lawyer and shit today?" He asks. Mickey shrugs, passing his cigarette over to Ian.

"So can't afford a fuckin' lawyer right now. Those stuck up pricks are worth more than mine and your houses combined. Could get a shitty one for cheap but I could probably put together a better case on my own than they could. But I set up an appointment for tomorrow afternoon with a free legal family lawyer dude. Supposed to be good at what he does. Name's Calum Walters. Think he's based out of Indiana but read up on some reviews and he sounds top notch."

Ian nods. He takes a drag from the cigarette, blowing smoke out into the dark air before passing it back over. "That's good. Want me to come with? I could call off work."

Mickey raises an eyebrow, looking over at him. "Why the fuck would you come with?" It wasn't that Mickey didn't want Ian to come. Hell, if he could Mickey would spend every second with Ian. But of course he could never admit that to the man. Even if he knew the feelings were mutual.

He shrugs. "Dunno. Emotional support?" He jokes.

Mickey laughs and shakes his head. "You look at any apartments?"

He nods. "Saw a few. There's this nice one on the north side I really like and it's not too far from the southside so I can still be close to my family and you with Mandy. Its one bath, two bedrooms. Think we can afford it too," he grins.

Mickey smiles. "Maybe this weekend we can head over to check it out. Even got me a job interview set up so we may be able to afford more."

Ian's eyes go wide. "No way!? Where at?"

Mickey rolls his eyes at his boyfriend's excitement. "It's nothing special at all. But, uh, got a job as a waiter at a small restaurant over on the north side. Pay is decent though." Ian's smile only grows and he leans over to peck Mickey on the cheek.

"Mick that's awesome! Guess that means no more badass pimp anymore, huh?"

"Oh, fuck off. Doubt I'll even get the job," he says, laughing quietly. "But yeah. Figured having a decent job would give me a better chance at winning custody for my kid."

Ian nods. "Definitely. You sure Yevgeny will be okay with leaving Svet?" Mickey let's out a heavy sigh.

"Honestly? Don't know," he admits. Mickey knew the boy loved his mother but he also knew that she wasn't the best role model for him. Now either was he but he was trying to change, to better himself for his kid. Yet Svetlana would still take Yev to meet with "clients" and Mickey didn't agree with it one bit. He also knew he had to get Yev away from Terry because he'd be damned if his father ruined one more life.

Family was everything to Mickey. The second someone got into his small circle, he wouldn't let go. And Yev was in that circle. He didn't want to lose his son. He wanted to help him grow up and be happy in love and he felt the only way to do that was to raise him away from Svet and his childhood home.

Ian nods slowly. "You need to talk to him about it before all this shit goes down," he says.

"I know. I'm going to eventually just need to figure out how first. Also got Terry to worry about." He takes one more drag from his cigarette before sticking it in the snow.

"Is Yev close to him too?"

Mickey snorts and shakes his head. "Fuck, no. Terry's... he's never laid a hand on Yev but that's Thanks to me. He's an asshole like I told ya before and he's tried to hit Yev before but I make sure he doesn't put a hand on my son."

"How do you stop him?" He whispers. Ian figured he knew the answer, but he needed to know for sure.
He shrugs and knocks his knuckles against his nose. "Gotta do whatever I gotta do. Does he get in a good punch with me sometimes? Hell Yeah he does but doesn't mean I'm gonna stop. Don't want Yev growing up with what I did."

"Mickey I'm so sorry. Terry's gonna be out of your life soon," he says, placing his hand on his boyfriend's knee.

Mickey nods a bit, flashing him a small smile "Listen.... I'm gonna head back in cause I gotta wake up early to take Yev to school. If you wanna come tomorrow to the thing it's at twelve so just meet me here before that," he says, standing up. Ian smiles softly and nods, kissing Mickey gently on the lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he confirms and Mickey can't help but lean in again. He cups Ian's face with his hands and presses his lips against his boyfriend's.

"Thank you," he whispers. Ian smiles against his lips and nods.

"Goodnight, Mickey," Ian whispers back before walking away.

________________________________

The next morning, after dropping Yev off at school, Mickey sits down on his front porch. His legs dangle off the step, shaking his foot nervously. Mickey had never pictured himself in this situation. With a wife and boyfriend at the same time, a five year old son or taking the first step to live his own life. He had always pictured himself living with Terry under his rules and watchful eye. But now Mickey was risking it all for a chance to start again. He wanted a better life not only for himself, but for Yevgeny as well.

As Mickey enjoyed his cigarette a small grey truck pulls up to his house. The owner parks it and steps out. "Hey," he grins.

Mickey raises an eyebrow. "You're late," he teases. Ian rolls his eyes and glances down at the time on his phone.

"It's 11:07. The appointment isn't until noon."

Mickey shrugs, flicking his cigarette forward into the snow. "So? You texted and said you'd be over at eleven."

"I said around eleven. There's a difference. Anyways, if you're ready to go we can go now. Looked up the place and it's about a forty minute drive." Mickey nods, standing up off of the porch.

"Yeah let's get goin," he agrees. He follows Ian to his car and gets into the passengers seat while Ian gets into the drivers.

The two of them drive in almost complete silence. Mickey too nervous to talk and Ian realizes so and knowing he needed some space. Soon enough they arrive and Ian parks his car in the parking lot.

"Fuck can't believe I'm doin' this shit. Didn't see myself ever trying to get outta the southside," he says. Ian smiles slightly as he turns off the car.

"We just have to get through this legal shit and we'll be home free. Get a nice apartment and shit on the north-side and a good school for Yev."

Mickey chuckles softly and leads Ian inside. "Alright, keep it in your pants for now," he jokes. The two of them approach the counter, a petite blonde headed women behind it. She smiles up at them.

"Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Uh, I got an appointment at noon with Calum Walters," he says, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

She nods and looks through her computer files. "Okay, Mikhailo Milkovich?" He nods. "Okay, he actually just finished up so you can head in early." The woman stands up and leads the two of them to the back and into a room. "Mr. Walters? Your 12 pm appointment is here."

A middle aged man looks up from his desk and smiles, nodding. "Good, c'mon in guys," he says. Mickey glances over at Ian for a second before walking into the room. The two of them sit side by side. "So how can I help you today?"

"Uh, I'm trying to get full custody of my son from my wife," he says. The man nods.

"Okay, and is there a specific reason why you want full custody."

Mickey snorts. "There's many reasons. Don't even know where to start."

The man nods a bit and smiles softly. "Just start from the beginning and we'll go from there."

Mickey nods. He wasn't used to opening up. Especially not to strange, random men. "Well, uh, guess it started when I got married to her. She was a hooker, still is and I mean I'm not one to judge. Ain't saying I'm the best man out there. But the thing I can't stand is that she takes my kid out on the job with her. When I can't watch him she'll bring him to houses of clients and the last thing I want is for him to grow up to live the same life I am."

The man nods, typing away on his laptop. "And have you two been talking about divorce?"

Mickey shakes his head. "Not an option. It's an arranged marriage all thanks to my dad. Let's just say the life style I wanna live isn't welcomed in the house hold." Calum looks up and glances between the two of them. He seems to understand what Mickey meant and nods.

"Gotcha. So we're going to need prove of your wife's work and is there anything else that'll help us get custody that you can think of?"

Mickey laughs. "Thought that was your job," he says. "But, uh, not too sure bout this one but I think our marriage isn't even fucking real. Think she faked the paperwork and if that's right than she's an illegal immigrant in our country."

Calum nods. "That's good. That's gonna help us a lot. Mr. Milkovich, I think we're gonna have a solid case," he smiles.

________________________________

The meeting was enough to tire Mickey out for the rest of the day. He spent the remainder of his night stressing and worrying that there was no way he was going to be able to get his son.

In hopes of relieving some of that stress, Mickey sat on the couch. The tv was on and he had a beer in his hand. It was midnight which meant Yevgeny had long since fallen asleep and Svetlana was in the shower.

It wasn't often Mickey got alone time in the house and he cherished it whenever he could. But of course as soon as it began, it ended. Terry flopped down on the couch next to Mickey and took the beer from his son's hands. "Were gone all day," he points out, sipping the beer.

"Yeah, it's called work," he says back, eyes glued to the television screen.

"Oh yeah? That ginger part of your work? Saw you leave with him today."

Those words were enough to drain the blood from Mickey's face. His whole body went still, but he refused to show his nerves. "Yeah. Told you I got a job over at a nice restaurant. He was just giving me a lift to work."

"What's wrong with your car?" He asks, now directing his attention to Mickey who still refused to return the eye contact.

"Svet had it."

"You think I was born a fucking moron?" He questioned in a deadly tone. "Let's get one thing straight, Mickey. If I find out there's still the smallest part of you that's still faggot, I will beat your fucking head in so bad you won't be able to walk again. You hear me?"

Mickey nods. He had the death grip on ten couch at this point and he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. "Yes, sir. He's just a work buddy."

Terry let's out a grunt as he stands up. "For your sake, I hope you're telling the truth."