Chapter Text
“Not like I care or anything,” Mickey starts with a low voice, watching how their thighs touched with the close proximity of the seats on the train, “but, uh, how did you help yourself calm down when you were nervous?”
“As cliché as it sounds, breathing helped. I mean, it either helps your heart rate go down or it just helps you throw up quicker. Either way, you’re getting everything out.”
They were two stops away from their destination and Mickey couldn’t even understand what was going on with his insides. His heart was humming, or it was beating really slowly. His stomach was flipping incessantly, or it was as still as a brick. His skin was cold to the touch, yet he felt a dampness of his own sweat.
“Hey,” Ian whispered. “You got this, Mick. These are all people you know. And if they do judge for some reason, just shake ‘em off. You guys aren’t that close.”
When the doors slid open on Grand, Mickey surged up, feelings his legs move without his permission. They climbed the stairs up to the street and were met by a gust of cool wind. The night was filled lights from street cars passing by street lights and the buildings towering over.
Ian pointed behind them to a building and Mickey laughed. “What a creative name,” he stated, taking in the castle structure at the end of the street. He took in the purple and blue lights that flashed up the building and the neon sign that said “Castle” on the corner. For lack of a better word, he was questioning. He wasn’t really into clubs in the first place. Maybe he could cancel last minute? He could text Hazel and say something came up? He had a headache, maybe. Well, he was starting to feel a pang at his temple.
“C’mon, Mickey.” Ian stood close and let his fingertips slide down his arm until their fingers entwined. “I dare you to relax.”
Mickey smirked despite his body’s mixed signals that were actually really freaking him out. This is what Gallagher was talking about: is he excited or is he walking into a chaotic shit ton of mess that he can’t handle? But he was dared, and, well, some things never change. So whether Mickey liked it or not, there was something more at stake, here.
Ian dropped his hand once they were in front of the bouncer, who barely took his eyes off his clipboard. “Last name?” he asked.
“Milkovich.”
He glanced up then, he waving his fingers between the both of them. “You two on Hazel Wright’s guest list.” It was meant to be a question, but he just stamped their wrists and let them through. The nerves picked up instantly, almost painfully.
The bass of whatever song could be felt through their bones, it was a feeling that Ian knew very well, but Mickey wasn’t very fond of it, especially with his heart’s current animalistic speed of state.
Then there were the lights, always moving and flashing and flashing to the beat of the music. There were a lot of people, but not as much as there would be once it got later and things picked up. He knew they wouldn’t be staying long; they all had work tomorrow morning.
He found Hazel quickly, surprisingly. Well, it was hard to ignore the woman with the mass of curly blond hair waving in his direction. “Mickey! Hey!” she greeted when Mickey had gotten to the table. She gave him a big hug and quickly moved away, remembering his statement the first time he went to her house that he wasn’t really into hugging and embracement. She looked to Ian and held out her hand. “Hi! Who’s this?”
“Ian,” Mickey answered. “He’s my…friend.” Mickey tensed at his words. The word barely came out, like it was forced between his teeth. Hazel didn’t seem to notice, but that didn’t mean that Ian hadn’t.
She shook his hand. “I’m Hazel, Mickey’s boss. He probably never mentions me since I can be a raging hardass sometimes.”
Ian smiled naturally, and Mickey released his muscles. “Yeah, he’s mentioned you; all good, I promise.”
Hazel beamed; that was one of the things he’s mentioned about her: she’s so perky. Some mornings that would be exactly what he didn’t want to deal with. “Well, c’mon, guys! Everyone else is here. Way to be fashionably late.”
The rest of the guys were talking and conversing once they had sat down. They all greeted Mickey and Ian, not thinking much of the red head’s presence.
Brennan noticed. He was talking to one of Mickey’s crew members, Adam, when they sat down. Mickey’s eyes darted to Adam, noticing something different. “Yo, Adam! Where’s Ela?”
Adam rolled his eyes, obviously worked up on the topic of his absent date. “The woman’s been nagging me all week!” He leaned in closer across the table, glancing at Hazel to make sure she didn’t hear. “I think it’s that time of the month or something.” Leaning back up, he shrugged. “Anyways, I asked and told me to fuck off. So I fucked off.”
“And what’s your excuse for not bringing anyone, Brennan?” Hazel chimed in, leaning across the table to make sure she heard.
Brennan shrugged with a small smile. “I asked someone but they declined.” He kept his eyes on Hazel while his words seemed to drift to Mickey, right next to her. Mickey turned to Ian, who was giving that telltale sign that he knew exactly what Brennan was referring to.
But, again, Hazel hadn’t noticed. “Well, trust me, dude. There’s someone for everyone.” She took his hand and turned to Ian. “Is that your natural hair color?”
Ian laughed. “I’ve never died it before a day in my life.”
“How’d you two meet?” Brennan interjected. Hazel patted his hand. “I was about to ask him that, asshat.” But she turned back to Ian with expecting eyes. “I mean, just giving Mickey’s past….and you don’t seem like the type to…well, hey, I can’t really judge. My son…” she trailed off and waved off her statement.
“We’ve been friends since we were kids, actually.” Mickey’s heart dropped a peg when he heard Ian’s common use of the term ‘friend’ as if it was nothing. He knew wasn’t nothing, but still. “Yeah, we were from the same neighborhood and went to the same school and all that. I even dated his sister for a few years.”
Mickey kept his eyes down on Ian’s arms, not wanting to make eye contact with Brennan, though he really wanted to see his response. Ian was on that, while he answered, he looked to both people questioning him, and found that both had the same complacent expression.
“So, is this what a bromance is? My daughter always refers to brotp’s and bromances and…is that when two guys are like best friends?”
Mickey smirked with hard lips. In the past ten years, he never thought of that part, not really. Ian was his best friend. “He’s my best friend,” Mickey confirmed, elbowing Ian’s arm.
“Did your bro bring you here because of girl problems?” Adam joined. He’d taken a shot from the waitress and slid one to everyone at the table. “Because, fuck, man. I get it. Those annoying, moody-“
“Loveable,” Hazel interrupted snatching up her shot and glaring at Adam.
“Bitches,” he mumbled; it was unclear if it was directed to Hazel particularly or women in general.
Mickey downed his shot, enjoying the burn that filled his still heavy stomach. But things were going well so far, but he couldn’t help a thought in the back of his mind: wasn’t there something missing?
“Wait,” Hazel waves towards Mickey and Ian. “I’m not done. I don’t wanna sound like a mother, but, unfortunately, I am one, and he’s never brought anyone around before; it’s kinda cool.” She ends with a small squeal and Ian wonders how old she is exactly and how she can be so happy with a daughter and a son, it seems, not to mention 9 guys, to supervise. “So, Mr. Ian, what is it that you do with yourself?” She turned to the waitress to order her drink and the others did the same. Once the waitress had drifted off, she turned back and rested her chin on her palm.
“I’m a gym teacher and ROTC advisor at Lane Tech College Prep.”
Hazel’s eyes bugged at his answer. “Shut up! You’re an army dude? I was in the Air Force for 5 years in the early 80’s. Enlisted right after highschool.” She stated with pride then laugh. “My daughter goes to one of the schools in your network. It’s Downtown. I would’ve thought you were a trainer or something.”
Ian shrugged. Training would have been another option. “So you’re daughters in high school, then?” It shed some light on how old she might have been.
“Oh yeah! A junior…”
Mickey smiled while their drinks came around. Ian was such a people person, got off well with others. In some aspect, he wondered what he was worrying about. But he was always reminded when he looked to Brennan, who always kept a suspicious eye on them. He could almost see what was happening. Brennan would ask a question that would shed some more understanding on Mickey’s situation, but the answer wouldn’t bring him any closer to some point of realization. Then, it would start all over again with another question. Mickey stayed pretty quiet, watching discreetly as Ian had somehow worked his way into everyone’s attention. And no one seemed to realize. That’s when he realized.
Isn’t that what he wanted? Wasn’t that Mickey’s reason for inviting him in the first place? To somehow, through his actions, tell everyone he was gay? He soon focused again on his slow heart rate or the quickness of it. He needed to do something, and words weren’t really an option to him at this point. It was two words, but he was a Milkovich: words weren’t much to them; the actions spoke through any level of noise, and it was crystal clear, then. He needed to show, because that’s what he was best at.
“Hey, Ian!” Hazel called, getting out of her seat to stand next to him. “Take me to dance; my daughter’s got me obsessed with this song. Don’t tell her I told you.”
Ian gave her smile as he took her hand.
“Careful, Hazel,” Adam warned. “Your husband’s at work; he’s not dead.”
She flicked him off with her free hand as she guided Ian to the crowd of people dancing.
Well, at least it gave Mickey time to think of something while his blood ran fast off some type of adrenaline- or was it fear? He needed another drink.
He got up this time, walking over to the bar to get himself a beer. Once the bartender handed one over, he turned back in search of his boss and his boyfriend, only to see that Brennan was right beside him. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Ian seems really cool,” Brennan cut straight to the point.
“Yeah.” He finally found Ian, with Hazel holding hands and doing some weird twirly moves that made both of them laugh. “He is pretty cool.”
“And cute.”
Mickey snapped his eyes to Brennan, for maybe the wrong reason, it seems. He saw his eyes to be calculative rather than ravishing as he expected to find as he stared at Mickey’s red head. Because he knew Gallagher was cute; he was perfect- perfect to Mickey, at least. And there could only be one reason for pointing out his obvious attractiveness.
Only, there was another reason. Brennan was trying to fish something out of Mickey, whether it be a “Yeah, he is” or a “If you think so”. He was speechless and in search for the right words to say.
They weren’t necessary. “You guys are cute together,” Brennan added when he got no response from Mickey. “And I can take a hint, Mick. I can. I just wish you would’ve said something before I put my balls on the chopping block, you know?” His words rang true, but Mickey noticed a certain tightness to them, like they were supposed to come out even if he didn’t want them to.
Mickey still hadn’t said anything as Brennan walked back over to the table. It was emptier; some of the others had taken to dancing.
That was it, then. He was walking over to Ian and Hazel, his legs moving without his permission for a second time tonight. But this was his body’s way of telling him that he should do this whether it was scared or not.
The song had stopped for a few seconds once he’d met them. Hazel smiled brightly as usual. “Mind if I cut in?” Mickey asked to Hazel, keeping his eyes on her so she didn’t mistake his question to be directed towards Ian. She nodded, confused, and waved to Ian while walking back to the table.
Mickey grabbed Ian’s hand, his heart pumping louder than before- how the fuck was that even possible- and entwined their fingers, pulling Ian close to him as the next started up.
“What are you doing?” Ian asked, his lips close to Mickey’s ear to make sure he heard.
“Telling everyone I’m gay,” Mickey replied, making sure that only Ian could hear.
“And exactly how are you gonna do that?”
Mickey freed one of his hands to grab the back of Ian’s neck, keeping him close. Without breaking a step or even hesitating a bit, he moved his head and locked their lips together. Ian clasped Mickey’s waist to pull him in closer, opening his mouth to meet Mickey’s tongue.
That was the first time that night where everything was back to normal, he couldn’t feel his heart ready to jump out of his chest, his stomach laid as it should, he couldn’t feel his blood running through his vein, and under Ian’s grasp, he felt completely warm –whole and warm.
Ian pulled away to catch his breath and they rested their foreheads together. He gave a breathy laugh. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”
“Proud of me kissing you?”
“No, not just that. I’m proud of everything you’ve done, you know? I never told you that. You’ve come a long way and I’m proud of you for it.”
Mickey could feel his chest swell; just because he wasn’t great with words, it didn’t mean he wasn’t great in understanding them and he knew what words meant to Ian. He could feel the smile forming on his lips once Ian pulled him back in. He jumped a bit when he heard a lot of whooping and hollering from Hazel and the guys at the table. He pulled away to see them looking at him, and Hazel whistled and smiled next to Brennan, who wore a somewhat satisfied smile. They must have seen the first kiss, and he didn’t expect them to not have questions for him; and maybe it was the fact that Ian still held onto him or maybe all this time, his body was telling him how ready he was, but once he saw them and they knew, he laughed. Some changes were good.