Chapter Text
Ian Gallagher never thought he'd be in a position where he would actually put an effort into staying in the immediate vicinity of his unbelievably homophobic, racist and obnoxiously loud old hag of a landlord, but there he was, pondering over different methods of brown nosing that would let him do so. The small box of an apartment had become home to the redhead over the six months he had resided in it and Ian just wasn't ready to give it up yet. He and his landlady got off to a very rocky start, due to Ian's formerly booming sex life and the strange occurrence of all of his partners being incredibly loud in the sack. He had almost been kicked out twice just because of the noise complaints in the first four months, so he thought it was for the better of him to ease up on his habits. But now he was late on rent and this morning he had received another noise complaint, due to Lip visiting, along with a loud knocking at the door he promptly ignored, not wanting to give the old lady any wrong impressions about the half-naked man sleeping on his couch- Ian just knew that the "Oh no that's my brother he's visiting for the weekend" shpiel wouldn't go over well, because he had already used that for someone who was in fact not his brother.
"Get her flowers or some shit. Chicks love flowers, even if they are older than the states," Lip paused. "I mean that the chick is older than the states. Not the flowers. Don't get your landlady dead flowers, Ian."
Ian chuckled into his bowl of noodles. It was now eleven am and he was on his second meal of the day, while Lip had only woken up ten minutes ago. Ian was leaning on the counter next to the sink while Lip was slowly pacing around the kitchen, waiting for the coffee to drip. It wasn't that bad of an idea per se, but Ian didn't exactly want to buy flowers out of the blue for someone he despised. He expressed the thought to Lip before placing his now empty bowl into the sink for him to wash later.
Lip snorted and restlessly walked to the coffee maker that quietly beeped, indicating the coffee was ready. "Oh just do it," Lip said, rolling his eyes. "Once she sees you with a bouquet of flowers and a wad of cash, you'll be right back on her good side."
"Hah, if she even has one."
Once Lip had drunk his share of coffee and was energized to the max, he bid farewell to his brother and started out the door to be home in time for a meeting. Who the hell has meetings scheduled for Saturdays? Lip does, apparently. After he left, Ian was left all by his lonesome to attempt to come up with new strategies to help him stay in his home, but to no avail, so he looked up the nearest and the cheapest flower shop and headed out the door.
Ian had clearly not planned this through. Who knew there were so many different flowers? In this little shop with the slogan "For all occasions", Mandy's it was called, Ian witnessed more variety in foliage and vegetation than he had in his entire life and to put it simply; Ian was overwhelmed. He had not been offered help, or even a hello, from the man fiddling with various pots and plants on the opposite side of the room when he set foot in the shop but for once in his life, he didn't feel weird asking for it. The man had his back turned to Ian, but the redhead spoke anyway: "Um, excuse me? I'm kinda lost. You see, I-"
Ian was rendered silent when the man whipped around to look at him. The well postured back that made Ian feel comfortable with speaking did not match what now faced him. The man could somehow make a green apron look intimidating with the way he positioned his body like a guard dog ready to attack, even the way he tugged his gardening gloves off made Ian feel small. The man was beautiful though. He had striking blue eyes that, even while glaring, glistened beautifully in the sunlight that shone through the windows and dark raven hair that was styled to perfection. Ian had never felt so intimidated and simultaneously so intrigued by a man before in his life. He just wanted to roll over and expose his belly to this guy.
"What do you want?" the man spoke, with a small fire to his voice, but nothing that would make customers turn away from the shop. Ian figured it was rehearsed that way.
Ian took awhile to say anything, but when he did he could only muster one word: "Flowers."
The man huffed a sort of a laugh and shoved his gloves into the front pocket of his apron, "Yeah? No shit."
Finally managing to recover from the shock that was this man, Ian breathed and started: "Okay. So. I need a bouquet of flowers that would prevent me from getting kicked out of my home by a very angry lady that is not pleased with me because of some things I did in the past."
The florist rolled his eyes and turned back to the plants he was previously potting: "Tough tits, dude. We don't help guys who fucked up shit with their ladies. Company policy."
Ian stood, flabbergasted at the words, "What? My what?" The man glanced back at him and said: "If you fucked shit up with your girlfriend or whatever, I'm obligated to tell you to piss off and that you deserve what's coming for you. The owner's orders."
"No! Oh, fuck no. I'm gay. And the angry lady I'm talking about is my landlady who isn't that pleased with my loud gayness. Well, I guess it's not my loud gayness per se that she's pissed at but the loud gayness that happens in my apartment is my fault so I-" Ian stopped his rambling at the look on the florist's face. "Sorry. Not my girlfriend, though."
The man turned around and nodded, "Okay."
Ian glanced down at the nametag pinned to the florist's apron, mulling over the name in his head: "Mickey." Well, at least he doesn't seem like a huge homophobe so maybe I have a chance? Ian rubbed his hand over his face and explained: "Look, I'm a little late on my rent again and I got another noise complaint and judging from the way that she was banging at my door this morning, I have a feeling she would really like to kick me out of my own home right now. And I need something to ease her over but also kinda say: "Fuck you and your stupid homophobic ass 'cause I can actually pay my rent and be a good citizen" You know? I'm trusting you with my future right now."
Mickey nodded again, but this time he walked off and disappeared behind some paisley print curtains that hung as a divider of sorts next to some roses. Ian stood there for a moment until Mickey opened the curtain again and asked: "You comin' or not?" Ian quickly followed. Behind the curtains, there was another room, but instead of potted plants and greenery, like the previous room had had, this room was filled with pre-made bouquets and rows of unplucked flowers in different shapes and sizes.
"So an angry old lady, huh?" Mickey said and dismissively ran his hand over some lilies as he stepped past them. Ian couldn't help but do a double take when he saw letters tattooed on to the man's knuckles. F-U-C-K. Ian nodded with a small smile on his face, not feeling the need to speak up even though Mickey had his back turned to him. The florist grabbed a pair of scissors from his back pocket, making Ian's gaze follow Mickey's hand over to the promised land. Oh dear god. If Mickey's overall stature and his beautiful face hadn't completely won Ian's heart, the wonderful curve of his ass sure as hell did. Sometimes Ian wondered if he ever truly was attracted to men his age, considering his previous relationships consisting mostly of married men, but in this moment, there wasn't a doubt in his mind about his preferences being anything else but the man standing in front of him. Ian spent the next few minutes discreetly eye fucking the quiet florist who was walking around the room collecting flowers and arranging them into a tight bunch.
"Do you think this is a good idea?" Ian asked, out of the blue, somehow needing reassurance from Mickey to know if his plan was going to pull through or not. The man just tossed a quick glance at him and grunted. Oh, do it again, slower this time.
Ian pressed on, "Like, if you were an old lady with a slightly bigoted mindset and you were intent on kicking out the loud gay guy who hasn't had any loud guests in a while, I might add, but then he brought you flowers and his rent money, would you consider letting me stay?"
Mickey tossed another glance at him and shrugged, grumbling an "I don't fucking know". Ian sighed: "Well shit. Am I completely fucked? Can you not fix this with your magical bouquet making skills?"
And then it was like the sky opened up and the sun shone brighter than it ever had before. Mickey tossed him a smile. Ian's mouth dropped ajar at the beauty of it. And then the magic just kept on going, "I don't know if my magic works that strongly, Red, but I'm doing my best." Ian let out a sigh at the almost joking tone that Mickey spoke in.
Ian was desperate to hear the florist speak more, so he quipped: "It's always the hair people grab on to, huh? I'm sure there's more to me than that."
Mickey picked up the now complete bouquet and turned towards Ian, still gazing down at his work, "Not into hair grabbing then, Freckles? Different strokes, I guess." Ian's jaw dropped at the implication. Mickey glanced up at the man and Ian could have sworn there was a slight tinge of pink on his cheeks. Before Ian could reply, Mickey walked back through the curtain, saying: "So, it's gonna cost ya thirteen bucks."
The hair pulling? Ian followed the man back into the other room and dug out his wallet. He fished out a twenty and gazed at the bouquet. It was a beautiful mix of oranges and dainty purples that Ian considered to keep all for himself instead of for bribing the landlady. He smiled and handed the note over, saying: "Keep the change. It's beautiful, thank you."
Mickey grunted with a crease between his brows, "We ain't a charity." and tried to hand back seven dollars. Ian just grabbed his bouquet and lifted his other hand up with a smile, "Tough tits," Ian quoted the man. "'Cause I ain't takin that back."
Mickey glared at Ian's raised hand and the small smile that played on his lips but eventually put the money back into the register. When he looked up and found Ian still standing there he grunted again, "The fuck you still here for, Red?"
Ian just grinned and said, "It's Ian. And thank you for your magic, Mickey. I'll see you around." Mickey just huffed something that resembled a: "Whatever." And then Ian left the shop with a ding of the bell. Once he rounded the corner and the flower shop wasn't visible anymore, Ian stopped to stare at the flowers.
Ian Gallagher had a new mission: To woo the ex-thug looking florist and have a delightful summer wedding with an orange and light purple color scheme.