Ivan Kosin

July: Week 3

Two days and five similar infractions later, Ivan and Malcolm were back at the Manor, and Ivan was recounting the weekend for George over breakfast. Charlie Vance, who had joined them, listened attentively and with open appall.
"Jesus!" he said, after the part where Ivan had dumped Malcolm's glass of vodka in his plate. "He's going to kill you, Ivan. You know that, right? You have to know that. He may not have beat you yet for all this, but he will. If he hasn't, it's because he's just biding his time and checking in with Keith and the men. But you can't just act that way and get away with it. Mark my words, Ivan - it's coming. The next slip-up you make…it's coming."
Ivan hesitated and glanced at George, who rolled his eyes over little Max's head.
"George?"
George sighed.
"For fu -" George stopped himself and glanced skeptically at Max, "For heaven's sake, Ivan, you know you can't act like that."

Annoyed, Ivan crossed his arms over his chest.
"I wasn't acting like anything. He genuinely irritated me."
George stared evenly at his friend.
"Fine. But you know you can't react like that - no matter who it is. That'd be rude for anyone, but it's particularly disrespectful to your husband."
Ivan felt that little punch again, like he always did when he was abruptly reminded of the surprising fact that he actually had a husband.
"Whatever," he snapped, because weakness was abominable to him and he felt very vulnerable suddenly. "Then he shouldn't have started it."
Charlie's jaw visibly dropped, then he recovered his composure and shook his head.
"I don't get you, Ivan. I just don't get you."
George felt differently, but rather than say it, fixed Ivan with a cool stare.
"So what is this really about?" he demanded impatiently. Max squirmed in George's arms, demanding to be let down, and was subsequently taken over to the kitchen playpen where Lavi, Zeno's youngest son, was already sitting.

On the way back to the table, George paused to get a glass of water, and Ivan noticed that he lingered longer than usual at the sink.
"You OK?" he asked, cautiously because he still wasn't sure when that question was an OK one to ask.
George swayed a little, but swallowed and recovered.
"Fine. What's wrong with you?"
Ivan raised his eyebrows.
"Me? Nothing!"
"Then why are you treating your husband like a criminal, Ivan?"
Charlie Vance gave an approving nod.
"He is a - "
"If he is, it's only because of you, I'm sure." George snapped. Ivan silenced. "Hell, it might drive me to criminal behavior, too. This man does everything for you - he fights your father, he gets you a house (and when you don't like that one, he gets you another), he feeds you, he dotes on you, he puts up with your yelling and your temper tantrums and your screaming bullshit and all he ever does is smile and take it and give you whatever it is that you think you want or you need, yet you are just determined to torture him. Why?" George demanded, leaning more heavily on the sink now. "Huh? Why? What is the point of all of this? What are you trying to get out of him?"
Charlie's face had changed from agreement to consternation to worry.
"George…"
The older carrier stopped suddenly, and closed his eyes, then turned to the sink and elegantly vomited. Ivan and Charlie both rushed over to him, but he waved their hands away.
"I'm fine." he said, irritatedly, "I'm fine. It's just the goddamn baby."

~:~

The revelation of George's news throughout the Manor was followed quickly by the disclosure Charlie's own little secret, which was one month further along than George's. The happy couples were congratulated all around - Charlie and Keith with particular excitement because of the relief it brought to the pair of them. Charlie had been trying for 3 years now to carry, and this was the first time things had been brought to fruition.

Ivan, for his part, was delighted for his friend and expressed as much - not even reflecting on how new it was for him to be happy for someone else. He had even volunteered to work with Miller to plan a fantastic celebratory dinner for the lucky parents-to-be - a particular feat on many levels for Ivan.

None of this, however, changed the ominous implications of what Charlie had said that day in the kitchen. Was Malcolm still angry with him? Was he angry enough to hurt -
Here, Ivan interrupted his own thoughts because they were wandering again, into dark places he'd rather not revisit. The thought, unfinished, lingered.
Is Malcolm angry enough to hurt me the way I've hurt other people?
Remembered screams of torment played on, undeterred, in Ivan's mind. And cracking ribs and the sound of the skinburn…
"Ivan."
Malcolm's voice startled him out of his reverie and he snapped his head up.
"Fuck! You scared me."
Malcolm frowned in disapproval and indicated the toddler in his arms.
"You keep that up and it's going to be his first word." he leaned forward to hand off Lavi into Ivan's arms, careful not to ruffle the papers of the garden production inventory reports. Ivan closed the notebooks in front of him and took the child, tense, waiting to see if Malcolm would proffer further admonishment. None came, and the placid expression his husband usually wore seemed undisturbed. Ivan relaxed, slightly.
"Zeno asks if you can keep Lavi in here while he works on something in the craft room."
Ivan nodded.
"Definitely. No problem." Lavi cooed and slapped one damp hand clumsily into Ivan's dark hair, which had now grown long enough to barely tuck behind one ear. Ivan freed himself gently and turned to take the child over to the kitchen play area, but stopped when he felt Malcolm's gaze upon him.
"What?" he asked, straightening nervously. Malcolm shook his head.
"Nothing. Nothing. I just…never thought I'd see anything like this, is all." he answered hastily, and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm getting back to yardwork." he said by way of an exit, and then abruptly disappeared.
Ivan turned to Lavi, who had watched Malcolm leave with an interested expression on his cherubic little face.
"Well," he told the observant baby, "that was peculiar."

~:~