Chapter Text
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
Ian groans and opens one eye blearily to see Debbie grinning over him and waving an envelope in his direction. She looks frustratingly pleased with herself.
"Debs, what the hell, what time is it?" He struggles into a seating position, one hand rubbing his eyes and the other holding onto his sheet, distantly trying to remember whether he had slept in his underwear last night, not wanting to accidentally flash his sister first thing in the morning.
Debbie drops down on the bed beside him, bouncing deliberately a couple of times, the motion whipping the sheet out of his grip. At least he spots his boxers are still on. Thank god.
"Ohhh it is early, big brother, but I am headed to work and I wanted to give you my gift before anyone else because it is the best one you're going to get, so open it now because I have to leave!"
She pushes the envelope against his chest and lets go.
Ian grabs it before it falls, "You're very sure of yourse-"
"Just OPEN IT!"
"Okay, okay!" Ian grumbles, "but can you get off my sheet so I can at least have some birthday dignity."
Debbie jumps up, "Oh shit sorry."
Ian scoots back so he is leaning against the wall, pulls his sheet right up to his waist again and starts to rip open the envelope.
"CAREFUL, Jeez!" Debbie is horrified, and snatches it back out of his hands.
"Hey!" he complains.
"Hey nothing, this cost me a fuck load." She carefully lifts the flap of the envelope, pulls out the contents and hands them over.
As he turns the card round, Ian says, "How come you have work on a Sunday?"
Debbie shrugs, "My turn to work the weekend, now will you please open it!"
"Okay!" Ian finally looks down at the card. "Happy Birthday, Asshole!" is written across the top in big letters and then below, a picture of the back end of a ginger cat with its tail in the air like a question mark, it's pink, puckered butthole front and center. He scoffs. "Is this supposed to me?!" He asks, mock-affronted.
"Yep! And when did you get to be 25?" Debbie asks, "I don't like that you're getting older because it means I'm getting older."
"Fuck off!" Ian whacks her gently on the leg with the card as she looks down at him, and as it flicks back towards him, something falls out and onto his lap. He catches a quick glimpse of it and does almost a comical double take. His eyes widen as he re-reads what it says on the ticket.
"NASCAR RACING EXPERIENCE" it reads across the top in big letters.
Ian sits up a bit straighter, "Whoa, Debs, what?"
"Yeah," she grins again. "ya big car nerd!"
Ian looks up at her in shock. He has never made a secret of how much he loves racing, Formula 500 and Formula 1, but NASCAR is his absolute favorite and has been ever since Lip had brought home the VHS of Days of Thunder when Ian was 11 years old.
Lip had found it in the 99 cent bin at Blockbuster - videos that people no longer wanted to rent so people could buy them - and Lip bought five different ones. Ian had wanted to watch that one because it had cars on the cover. What Ian hadn't counted on was all the Hollywood actors in tight racing suits which gave him a very new appreciation for a LOT of things. A lot of new feelings in new places. After that he would wake up really early every weekday morning before school to watch the whole movie, then he'd go and quickly and quietly touch himself in the bathroom before everyone got up.
The tape wore out pretty quickly, but he had now discovered that there were two things he definitely really enjoyed looking at - men. And NASCAR.
And now he has the opportunity to, what? Drive a car? Meet a driver? What?
"What is this exactly?" Ian asks.
"Okay, so," Debbie begins, " you get to go the Speedway in Joliet and you can drive a NASCAR all by yourself round the track like a bunch of times!"
Ian laughs," It's not called a NASCAR, Debs. That's the name of the association."
"I know that," Debbie rolls her eyes, "anyway, you are going to have the best time and tell me I am the best sister?"
"You are the BEST sister. This is really great, thank you!"
Debbie leans down for a hug, "You are welcome! Okay, now I've gotta go to work. You just need to call and book it when it suits. All the details are in there, you just need your license and to be able to handle a stick shift."
She turns and starts to leave, "oh and don't forget to tell everyone else that I gave you the best gift and that all of their stuff was shit!"
Ian doesn't answer. Shit. Handling stick is the one thing he can definitely not do. Unless it's a euphemism for something else. What is he going to do now?!