Suaviter in modo, Fortiter in re

Ulrich, I'm terribly sorry. But I may have embellished one thing about my resume. Or at least hid it. But before I tell you, let me explain... I twisted my ankles and I'm left to provide for the care of your little tiger on the floor. Now, for the truth: I have weak ankles. I thought you should know.

“I’m sorry what? Are you okay? Is Misha okay? How are you only telling me this now?” A barrage of questions came out of Ulrich as he rushed back into the living room to see that the young man was, in fact, sprawled on the floor, his legs outstretched. “Jesus Pim,” he muttered as he scooped him off the floor, making sure to be as gentle as possible while he transferred him to the couch. “Let’s see if we need to call the hospital.”

"I was made to believe you had to... Lie, about some things in your resume. To put it crudely." he pulls a face, not expecting that Ulrich of all people would pay no mind to just hauling him over effortlessly. He would be lying twice that day if he didn't admit to himself that he felt safe and warm in his arms, but he didn't need to know that. "Some ice and bandages would do." he holds loosely over his wrist, and if one were to look more closely, one might notice he's almost pouting. "No need to go to the doctor's."

So, I’m not sure if Misha already told you but his school is hosting a family picnic this weekend and uhh... well, he’d... uhm... I... well, we would like it if you could come? I’m making pasta and he wants to recreate the cheesecake with you.

“Ulrich?” he smiles knowingly, albeit hearing firsthand of said picnic from the father first instead of the son, which was an unusual set of events. Misha would have spilled the beans before anyone else, judging by how chatty he was usually. So for Ulrich to break it to him first was a curious change of pace.

He nods along in agreement to the proposition soon after and chuckles. “I did tell you the cheesecake would come in handy, did I not?” he shrugs, seemingly proud that his foresight got him this far. “I do believe everyone needs to witness your son’s culinary prowess and I want to be there to witness it.”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, or you for that matter. I’m just cautious that he’ll hurt himself.” Ulrich said with a shrug, “besides I like to take things slow, baby steps as it were.” The man then shook his head and scoffed at Pim’s statement, “ah now that’s something isn’t it? You as the head of state? I don’t know man, you seem too soft to be overseeing an entire nation, who knows though? That might just be what we need in this country.”

Ulrich was still reeling at the image of his son’s sitter addressing a whole nation when he felt his fingers tuck his hair back in place. Breath hitching, Ulrich stayed impossibly still, as if a deer caught in headlights. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he mumbled a soft ‘thank you’ before taking a step back, trying to remember how to properly breathe again. “Right, yeah, uh… well, that’s good, yeah.. Misha would be very delighted to know you’re coming. I’m borrowing my friend’s truck for the picnic, so we might have to postpone that Motorcycle Ride for next time.”

Pim had been becoming a lot more bold with his actions around Ulrich lately and it was obvious by how careless he was with the little motherly act he just pulled. Now, he was starting to wonder if it was wise of him to be so touchy with him, knowing fully well that the older man was just as guarded as he was if not more, and so he mutters a quick apology------ but not before brushing his hair back completely for him; his perfectionism to blame.

“We have all the time in the world for motorcycle rides, my good man.” he shakes his head, feeling a bit sheepish that Ulrich had been holding onto that promise with such conviction. It was impressive, admirable even. “Do you need me to bring anything though? Juice boxes? Any extra ingredients? Extra clothes? A gift basket for the other parents?”

"Ulrich?" he smiles knowingly, albeit hearing firsthand of said picnic from the father first instead of the son, which was an unusual set of events. Misha would have spilled the beans before anyone else, judging by how chatty he was usually. So for Ulrich to break it to him first was a curious change of pace.

He nods along in agreement to the proposition soon after and chuckles. "I did tell you the cheesecake would come in handy, did I not?" he shrugs, seemingly proud that his foresight got him this far. "I do believe everyone needs to witness your son's culinary prowess and I want to be there to witness it."

Ulrich let out a chuckle. Cheeky as always. He liked that about the man. He’s always surefooted and knows what he’s capable of. Nodding along, Ulrich conceded. “Yeah, yeah... don’t get too high and mighty yet though, the kid’s still not allowed to cook in open flames.” He warned before bargaining, “but I suppose letting him handle the dessert would be a good practice.

Unsure what to do with his hands, the older pocketed them, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he asked, “so, are you in or not? I mean I get it if you’re too busy but it would really mean a lot to me and Misha if you could come. Besides, I’m pretty sure his homeroom teacher would like to meet you.”

“There’s something to be said about convincing a hardened man like you to even consider having dessert be made for him by a child and his caretaker, and I surmise it has something to do with yours truly having to engage in presidential candidacy in the near future.” Pim jested, having delivered his wordy retort towards the other.

The young blonde could barely reach Ulrich’s face, much less the top of his head. But the moment he saw the stray lock of hair fall near his eyes, his motherly instincts kicked in and he had to very, very quickly brush it away with two fingers… accompanied by the strength of his tip toes in full extension. “I was already ‘in’ the moment your doting, fatherly eyes asked in little Солнце’s stead.” he pauses and looks at him with a smile. “It’s a yes for everything.”

ulrich-anderson

“Hey buddy?” Ulrich started, scooping Misha out of Pim’s arms and into his own as he walked through the hallway, “do you want to get Pim’s present before we set out the table?” He asked before putting his son down and watching him run towards his dad’s room where they are keeping all the presents. Turning back to the other he simply shrugged, “Well, you can start grilling me with questions all you want. We’ve got time before dinner anyway.” Ulrich simply said while he tossed his jacket onto the couch revealing nothing but the black shirt he’s worn to bed the night before.

Walking into the kitchen, he put on an apron, a parody one with the words “Your Opinion is in Not in the Recipe” printed in front. “One thing’s for sure though, I never liked golfing. I used to go to golf clubs in my previous…” Ulrich began before shutting up, thinking it wouldn’t have been the right time to reveal such vital part of his life at this instance. “Why spoil the day with something so trivial?” He asked, attempting once more to change the topic. Luckily, Misha came just at the right time with the boxed present in hand which he gave to his babysitter. Turning his head around to start with the onions, he let the two have their moment while he began preparing their humble feast.

Just the notion of having something to pique his curiosity was enough to pique his curiosity. It was a very destructive characteristic and Ulrich’s habit of cutting his words too short was not helping his predicament. He looks at him, and one could pick out the very brief squint he had given the other man. A mix of disdain and utter desperation to know.

“Golfing is so tedio--” he stops when Misha comes scurrying in, he had such a glimmer in his eyes and Pim could only reflect the same in his own. It had been a while since someone had given him a gift; after all, he was used to getting gifts before and receiving one now, in his present state, felt like it surpassed all of the previous ones. “Oh my.” he said with a small gasp. “Oh dear.”

“Oh wow.” he continued, laughing shakily in gratitude once he unwraps his present. He held the white scarf with gold embroidery on it with such fondness, he nearly felt uncharacteristically giddy. “I’m sorry I did not even ask if I could open it. But this is absolutely gorgeous. Thank you so much. I was so busy I didn’t even bother getting some for you two. I apologize.”

"Misha, your son, has informed me of quite a predicament earlier. He says he should be able to cook at his age to help out, I'm not aware of such a tradition in your household. So naturally, I supervised and helped him concoct a non-toxic recipe. No-bake cheesecake. It's in the fridge. Please do enjoy yourself." - Sincerely, Pim

“Dummkopf.” Ulrich scoffed as he took the post it note from the fishbowl where they usually keep the keys. He has just gotten back home from the gym as he was called for a training session today. Wandering around the house, he immediately went to the kitchen to slice him a piece of the rather okay looking cheesecake. With a plateful of the dessert in hand, Ulrich next went to Misha’s room where he found Pim in bed with his napping son. Leaning against the frame, he observed the duo until the babysitter noticed him. Raising his eyebrow while taking a bite, he said in hushed tones, “you know we’ve had this talk right? Misha’s only allowed to help in the kitchen if he’s setting the table or getting the orange juice.” He said, trying to act stern but to no avail. “Do you wanna taste the fruit of your labour or are you too bombed to get up?”

ulrich-anderson

Ulrich was still propped against the doorframe as he watched his son’s babysitter reprimand him. Honestly, he’s pretty much 10 years this man’s senior but he talks to Ulrich as if they are toe to toe in experience and age. Sure enough, Pim always carried himself with a grace of a sophisticated gentleman, but Ulrich still found this habit of his a little bit disconcerting. Nevertheless, the man stood his ground and shrugged, “He could’ve made a mess in the kitchen with the batter?” He defended but deep down he knew he was beat. That didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes though at the other’s next statement. “You know what, he can cook lamb skillet when his palette is developed enough to actually appreciate it, because I don’t know if you’ve notice but that kid only ever eats chicken nuggets and chocolate.” Venturing off from the room, he motioned for Pim to follow him back to the kitchen where he handed Pim a fork and asked him to dig in from Ulrich’s slice. “Hey, I was just looking out for you. It would’ve been extra work if you had to clean up after my son made a mess.”

“I have and I’ve been trying to fix that habit. It’s an all too familiar scenario with another blonde kid I once knew. Lamb skillet would be an improvement, I’ll have you know, good sir.” he takes the fork from Ulrich, fingers very barely brushing onto his, chuckling in response. Pim was sure he didn’t relay a response that would have the other worrying over offense or anything of the sort, but he needed to provide a reply to clear the air, in case the other frets over it in the long run.

He lets the tension hang in the air for the longest moment, maybe just to get him on his toes. Pim takes his sweet time eating the small portion of cake he sliced with his fork and then fixes him with a look after swallowing. “I know, and I appreciate the concern, genuinely, but you needn’t worry. A mess I’d need to clean would be at my hands, so it’d have been deserved. However, seeing as this is a success, we get to enjoy the fruits of our labor. No need to fuss about the what-ifs.”

Pim smiles reassuringly and lifts up the small plate up to Ulrich. “Cake?”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“If I may ask,” Ulrich began while he glanced at the other man, “why are you so keen on getting me drunk?” Part of him was curious to know the answer, but more so, he was just trying to make light of the situation. He would never be one to doubt Pim’s abilities to juggle multiple things at the same time. In fact, that was one of the deciding factors why he hired the man. “If I didn’t know any better, you’re just trying to get me to do some embarrassing shit as leverage next time you need wanted to play hooky from Misha.” His words may seem rough and scalding, but the look on Ulrich’s face. The subtle smirk on his lips and the twinkle in his eyes suggested otherwise.

He was about to add something else, but he was soon cut off by a very puppy-esque Misha who bolted right off. Looking at the two of them felt so natural somehow. Pim carrying the rascal wasn’t something new, but somehow this seems to be the first time he is seeing it on a brand new light. Perhaps it was the Holiday season making everything seem ten times jollier. “You know what? It might be, besides you shouldn’t think about that right now.” He said, brushing Pim off before unlocking the door to their unit and letting the duo come in first.

Pim looked pensive for a moment, taking a full second to absorb the question and relay an acceptable answer that wouldn’t lead to any more misconceptions... such as the one Ulrich was probably having now. All this was happening while there was a squirming Misha in his arms, placated only by the soothing brushes of his fingers through the child’s already tousled hair. “We are not yet in a level of familiarity that I would know your whims and wishes..” he begins. “But I do know that drinking, for you, is a form of winding down. You’re stressed enough as it is. If I knew you were a connoisseur for... I don’t know, golf perhaps? I’d have booked us a few hours at the range I used to work for, as a substitute to the drinking.”

He steps inside and sets MIsha down the couch once they get to the living room, sighing softly. Since coming to Boystown, sitting had become such a luxury, seeing as he had to be on his feet all the time, working. But somehow, taking care of Ulrich’s son didn’t seem much of a job nor a chore. It was fun and honestly, a welcome distraction. “I am deathly curious.” he breaks it to him. “You’ll have to tell me about it sooner than later.. or I would not continue bringing it up.”

Despite the sleepiness in his eyes, Pim sits up to hush the other, gesturing with a finger over his lips as if to reprimand him for being so moderate in volume. "The extent of the recipe was to stir and pour." he takes a deep breath in as if to will the drowsiness away and fixes his hair before standing up, finding it utterly distasteful to converse in such a state with the older man. "If it were me, I'd have taught him how to make lamb skillet but I am a man of my word and I followed by your guidelines with conviction... Unless you consider stirring and pouring a punishable offense? " he approaches the other, his small stature up against him seemed to be of no obstacle, specially with such an enticing offer and then he smiles amusedly. "I'll have a bite, if only to spite you. Since you seem to be enjoying it over chastising me over the whole thing."

ulrich-anderson‌:

With Pim being the ambiguous man that he is, Ulrich didn’t even attempt to decipher the meaning behind the young man’s wry smile. Choosing to pretty much ignore Pim’s wordless reply, he moved on to the next statement. Getting a load out of the man trying once again, and failing once more, to give him a solid pat on the shoulder. At times Ulrich thought about giving the man an advantage and start slouching off, or better yet, just squatting down to give Pim a fighting chance.

“Yeah, yeah, I swear I wouldn’t get blackout drunk again. Besides, it’s not like I have the means to do it anymore, seeing as I’ve basically no one to drive me home.” Ulrich said in admission as they walked towards the building where he opened the door for Ulrich, letting him come in first before locking the door behind them.

With a frown, Ulrich tried to process Pim’s request. Had he been missing out on paying the man’s due? Sure sometimes he’s a day late but, oh… Upon hearing the lighthearted chuckle, Ulrich was taken out of his stupor. Instead, letting out a snort and a slight head shake while he looked down at his son’s babysitter. “Now I can’t promise the orange juice, not with Misha basically raiding the fridge whenever he gets bored. Although, if you’re up to it, I know of another way to make it up to you. You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one though, yeah?” He said before reaching the unit adjacent to theirs and picking Misha up who immediately leapt into the air to greet his beloved friend.

“I do not think you’re quite aware of how you possess a Get Out of Jail card in the palm of your hand at this very moment.” he says, referring to himself. Sure, he does have a thing about being subtly pompous when it came to certain matters that he took pride upon, but if he were anything to go by, Pim’s organizational skills were rivaled by none. “If you so choose, I could schedule it, without you having to lift a finger or even worry. I do think everyone deserves to get erm.... trashy ....” he tries to say the word without cringing himself, but it did seem appropriate, if not a little hilarious. “From time to time.”

Without so much as a beat though, there was suddenly a handful of Misha in his arms and Pim had to look at Ulrich in surprise. If it was pride from the development of things or just Pim’s astonishment at the child’s attachment and fondness to him, he didn’t know himself. But he was carrying him now, all smiles and sunshine. “Your dad says we have to share the orange juice from now on.” he quips before looking towards the man, more thrilled than anything for some reason. “Another way? Is it something you can tell me right now or is it too grown-up for the little tyke here?”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“I would.” Ulrich said, concisely and bluntly. There’s just no other way around it. Spending as much time as he does with Pim could guarantee a relationship more than of acquaintances. Sure he is technically the man’s employer, but it was an informal arrangement with no binding contracts whatsoever.

Parking his bike on its usual spot, he let Pim get off first before turning the engines down and securing the vehicle. Taking off his helmet, he assisted the younger man with his own before placing it on the compartment just underneath the seat. Taking his time to gather his thoughts before answering Pim’s proposition, he said. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true but it wouldn’t really be a nice image if I leave my son alone to go out drinking…” He then paused as the realisation of their first meeting came back to him and he scrambled for a defence, “and no, the time I met you at the bar doesn’t count because I had a bad day and I needed the drink.” They were on their way towards the apartment when he relented and said, “you know what though? I’ll keep that in mind for another time, but you will have to let me make it up to you.”

Pim smiles very cheshire-like, and though his lips did not dare part to show his pearly whites, it did not betray whatever emotion he had meant to relay, instead it projected even more mystery. Does he appreciate the friendship? Or was the casualness of it all a deterrent? And that he had merely replied with a smile out of respect? Ulrich would never reach a conclusion, Pim made sure of that.

Though he did prefer that he did see him as a friend; God knows he needed one.

“I was definitely not going to hold that against you.” he places a hand (with much effort) on his shoulder, before settling it over his arm (because as much as he hated to admit it, he could not reach it) in consolation. “But much better conduct is much advised the next time you decide to completely inebriate yourself in such a manner.”

Ulrich making it up to him seemed a little counterintuitive considering that he had given him a job and Pim had given him better chances at time management, and it would be just a back and forth of paying it forward, so he raises a finger in disagreement. “I would like to just be paid on time.” he says in a straightforward manner, no trace of humor seen... until he chuckles. “And perhaps a steady supply of orange juice whenever I’m around. That’s incentive enough. Or did you have any other plans?”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“It’s worse now because of the weather, but once summer arrives me and Misha sometimes go for joyrides outside of town.” Ulrich revealed, shouting over the winds while he sped away, “You could come if you want, of course. Although, it’ll be a pretty tight ride.” It was an open invitation, seeing as Pim was the one who announced he’d be willing to give this another go. It would’ve made sense anyway, what with him being his son’s minder and all?

Silence followed suit, but as soon as they got out of the highway and closer to Ulrich’s neighbourhood, he answered the query. “Nah, I was thinking of going out for a drink but you know, Misha couldn’t be left alone and I can’t ask you to babysit him while I’m out gallivanting.” He felt quite ashamed as he said that, realising now how irresponsible that sounded. “So, you know, just gifts and presents over a warm meal. Besides, I’ve still got a bottle wine at home.”

The thought of a springtime-summer ride across an open road seemed interesting. And the very sentence was like a promise made of honey and peaches. He made no comment nor a response towards the proposition, and he’d cross the bridge when he gets there, but within the inner workings of his mind, he knows that that same bridge would be crossed repeatedly with a resounding yes.

“I don’t know if you’d classify us as friends...” his brows began to furrow in thought, a habit all too familiar with the young blonde. “Or colleagues in raising a child....” his brows scrunch up even more before he cuts himself out of his thoughts abruptly. “But you do know you’re allowed to call me up for a simple night out of gallivanting, right? Like I said, you need the time off too.”

ulrich-anderson‌:

Somehow, all of a sudden, Ulrich felt almost bashful from the kind words coming out of Pim. You can almost tell that he rarely hears praises for his parenting skills. It was almost refreshing that the man just fell silent again and instead, found himself focusing on their shared meal. After a minute though, Ulrich lifted his head, curious as to what Pim meant.

Opening his mouth and closing it again, he debated the topic. He didn’t really want to touch a sensitive topic, besides they’re barely acquaintances at this point, much less strangers. “I hope we’re not keeping you from your plans tonight.” Ulrich asked instead before continuing, “If you want to stay a bit longer after dinner I suppose we could talk about arrangements for Misha?”

For a quick moment, the table was silent apart from Misha’s little interjections and Pim had been tempted to reply more than enough times with his mouth full.It was hard for him not to engage to such an energetic and inquisitive child, since he was very reciprocating. After that pause, Ulrich’s voice breaks the quiet and Pim smiled at him, he was genuinely engrossed in interacting with this little family of two for some reason.

Or maybe he was just really yearning for some sort of family dynamic. He doesn’t quite know yet.

“I wouldn’t mind if we posited about the mysteries of the universe for hours, honestly.” he admits, leaning back comfortably against his chair though not letting up his trained posture go to waste. “That’s my crude way of saying yes.” he supplies.”What kind of arrangements did you have in mind? I personally don’t think this one here would be such a handful..” he shoots Misha a look and laughs. “But it’s good to know where I should stand with the little one.”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“Good to know?” Ulrich struggled, wondering if that was a good thing or not. In the end he settled for the former. Realising that what matters now is that his guilt is dissipating, slowly but surely. Thinking it best not to ask for the contents of his bag, Ulrich started for the road, keeping to the motorcycle lane while speeding through Chicago’s merry-filled streets.

Overly conscious of Pim’s hands wrapped around his waist, Ulrich stole a glance every now and then from the side-mirrors, checking how his passenger was doing. So far he seemed fine, if a bit cold but that might just be from the wind blasting their bodies. “It’s the thrill of riding the motorcycle if anything. Like a mini rollercoaster ride.” He yelled his answer, unsure if Pim heard him, but then he pointed out. “You’ll get the hang of it next time, I promise. Misha loves it whenever we go for joyrides.” That last part he simply said to try and egg his employee, wondering if he had any inclinations to not be bested by a child.

Leaning a bit forward, Ulrich maneuvered to the left as he tried to beat a red light. “You alright? Not too cold or anything?” He then asked as he felt Pim’s gloved hands against the thin layer of denim that he hastily wore on his way out the door. “Sorry again, you know, for interrupting your Holiday Plans.” He then apologised again, hoping the wind wasn’t too loud that his words were drowned.

“It’s pretty fun!” Pim replied in the same volume as Ulrich. And though he did genuinely enjoy the ride, he still clung onto the other man like his life depended on it, and in a way, it did. He described it as a mini rollercoaster ride and Pim was inclined to say that, on the contrary, it felt more like an actual, full-sized rollercoaster. And he had already been in one, so this was definitely comparable to that. The freezing wind was the least of his problems.

Despite the fear of flying off of the vehicle though, Pim finds comfort in looking through the peaceful, but quite sullen surroundings. “This is something I could get used to... quite easily at that.” he notes genuinely, granted, it would take more than one ride with Ulrich to fix that. “And no, it’s alright. I wouldn’t really call sleeping in as a holiday plan. You on the other hand....” he pauses, worrying he might come off as a little intrusive but he figures he’d ask either way. “Did you have any plans?”

ulrich-anderson‌:

“Okay.” Was the simple reply he gave as he handed out his drink, going back into his seat and pouring some more gravy into his plate. Eyeing his son and Pim’s interactions, Ulrich couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. It wasn’t long since he first met the guy at the bar, reaching out to him as if Ulrich was not a menacing figure. The way he talked right now was exactly how he did that night. It made Ulrich wondered, did he think him a child or is he taking Misha for an adult? Regardless, he should probably be insulted but funnily enough, he wasn’t.

Heeding his advise, Ulrich had to give out a sigh and a nod. Embarrassed as he was to admit it, the kid had a point. It’s not that he minds Misha asking him question, but he thought it best not to have Pim answer them all at once. Especially not when he’s a guest in their home and not an employed assistant. “Your grandfather must have had his fill of questions from you then huh? He does seem like a wise old man for you to turn out like this.” He finally said, unsure if he came across harshly. Leaning back into the chair to give himself time to rest from his meal, he added his own anecdote, “Mhm, reminds me of this man who dated the wrong person…” He paused for a bit remembering the gruesome tale from his past life and shaking his head before he continued. “Actually, no. He dated the wrong person and was punished for it, but in exchange the universe rewarded him with the best thing he could ever hope for.” He finished, looking his son in the eye with a smile, unaware of Pim observing them.

There was a fondness to Pim’s eyes once he took notice of the way Ulrich had told him inadvertently about a little cautionary tale of his own. He could feel in his bones how much he loved his son and how he appreciated every bit of his existence. He drank down his beverage, wanting to push down that welling emotion of his hanging at the back of his throat. Pim surmises how nice it must have been being taken care of how in such a way, prompting him to miss his old life, and his family.

“You’re very lucky.” he says, placing a hand on top of Misha’s head. Indeed, he was. Pim was fully aware of the state of their family affairs just by context clues alone but the boy was never without love, he knew. Ulrich seemed to supply him with twice the amount he needed. “You have an amazing father. Let’s just hope he doesn’t spoil you too much. Or else you’d turn out like me.” he says with an almost playful smile.