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There came a moment in every relationship where a lie was told. It was inevitable; absolute honesty was bullshit only rich therapists with self help books sold to the desperate couples that came to them. The lie could be something small; a guy's night out in fact including a woman, or not being told that someone was an ex. It could be something big; cheating or the fact that no, you didn't quit smoking when you told your partner you had.
Ian and Mickey got pretty lucky that way. The Southside didn't allow for pretty facades and nice cover ups. Usually, what you saw was what you got.
Usually.
Mickey had believed that there were no exceptions. But it became apparent soon after he and Ian became a thing, that the blonde haired boy he knew wasn't exactly who he said he was.
Namely, said blonde haired boy wasn't blonde haired at all.
It all began one day when the Milkovich house was blissfully empty and Ian was over. They were lying together on Mickey's tiny ass bed, curled up together in a way Mickey would forever deny he enjoyed. Ian's head was resting on Mickey's chest, and the older boy was running his fingers through the soft hair.
Suddenly, he caught sight of something that made him draw back sharply, then immediately lean in for a closer look. "Ian, what the fuck!" He exclaimed, dropping the other boy like a brick of coke and standing up. "What?" asked Ian, daring to sound innocent, "Are you okay?"
Mickey shook his head furiously. "No fucking way! You're a fucking ginger?!" he spat out, tugging on some of the incriminating strands of hair sharply until Ian winced. "Uh... no?" he replied unconvincingly, now standing up too. Mickey shook his head again; trying to make sense of the bizarre situation. "What else are you lying about?!" he yelled out, noting in the back of his mind that he was being a little overdramatic. "You fucking someone else?! Is Ian even your fucking name?!"
He shoved Ian violently with every angry statement, making his lover cry out. "What the fuck Mickey!" he cried, raising his hands in defence, "I'm sorry, fuck ow, I said I'm sorry!" It took a few more harsh have before the raven haired boy let up, still sneering at him. Ian looked up at him, saying, "I'm sorry, I just hate it. Everyone made fun of my hair when I was a kid. I started dyeing it as soon as Fi let me." Mickey felt his anger dissipate slowly at the thought of baby Ian being bullied.
"Yeah, well," Ian was relieved when he heard Mickey's voice was now drained of anger, "Ain't no one gonna say shit to you when I'm around. So you can stop now." Ian grinned at the other boy's slightly sappy statement. "Well," Ian patted his own blonde hair thoughtfully, "I don't know. What if you don't like it?"
Mickey let out a sardonic laugh, "It's your hair. Course I'll like it." Ian gave him a dopey grin and a wet, slimy kiss on the cheek, making Mickey shove him off immediately. "Plus," the Milkovich boy added with a naughty smirk, "I have a thing for gingers."
//
So Ian stopped dyeing his hair. His mop of hair grew increasingly red and bright, much to Mickey's latent delight. Ian was unsure about it in the beginning, but seeing how much Mickey loved it made him feel much better about himself and the bright carrot colored mane he was developing.
So the two boys got all the lies and secrets out of the way pretty early on in their relationship.
Well, almost all.
It might have been a bit of a shock for Ian to see that the lease for his apartment with his boyfriend was being signed under the name 'Mikhailo Aleksander Milkovich', but hey, that was a story for another time.