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Ian was pissed. Like, face burning, chest flushed, shoulders tensed pissed. And his boyfriend was not helping. In fact, he was only making it worse.
"-don't fuckin' understand you sometimes, Ian. You're acting like a little bitch."
Ian stood up from the couch so fast his head spun. "Really, Mick?" he yelled, throwing his arms out. "You honestly can't see what the problem is here?"
Mickey just raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Ian scoffed.
"You're running around the Southside doing illegal shit!" he yelled.
"So fuckin' what, I'm always doing illegal shit," Mickey grumbled indifferently. Ian glared at him.
"You told me you were gonna stop that," he stated. "You said you were gonna get a job, be respectable!"
"Yeah, I say lots of shit I don't mean," Mickey said, looking away from Ian and thumbing at the side of his mouth.
"Lots of shit, huh?" Ian repeated. "What kind of shit-- like, you love me?"
"Oh my God," Mickey whispered. "You are such a girl."
"Okay, that is sexist!" Ian hissed. "And I'm being serious here, Mick, 'cos apparently you're just a huge pathological liar here."
Mickey laughed at the ridiculousness of the conversation. "A'ight, a'ight," he mumbled, turning around and going to walk out of the room. Ian sputtered, grabbing his arm.
"The fuck do you think you're going?"
Mickey raised his eyebrows and turned to face his stupid fucking boyfriend. "I'm gonna get the fuck out of this room, wait this shit out until your pussy goes away and your dick grows back. 'Cos, you know, I'm kinda getting sick of this shit and I want it up my ass. Okay?" he said sassily.
Ian shook his head slowly and Mickey prepared himself for another round of yelling. But Ian just stared at him a moment, something like fucking wonder and… adoration in his green blue eyes. The fuck?
"You're just so cute," Ian said, his voice sounding clipped like he was trying hard not to coo at Mickey. For fucks sake.
"Come the fuck on, Ian," Mickey grumbled, looking away from his boyfriend as his cheeks heated up. "Shut up with that shit, man."
"Oh my God, Mickey!" Ian fuckin' squealed when he saw his boyfriend's flushed face, then stepped closer and squeezed Mickey's cheeks in both hands, squishing his face together and making his mouth pucker out like a fish. Mickey glared up at him. Ian's adoring grin just widened and he leaned down and kissed Mickey's squished, puckered mouth.
"You look like an angry kitten right now, Mick," Ian cooed, squishing his cheeks even more. Mickey scowled and tried to squirm out of Ian's grip, his face burning. "Like Grumpy Cat."
"Let me the fuck go, Gallagher," he said, his voice garbled. Ian laughed and kissed him again then let him go. Mickey's cheeks had Ian's hand prints on them.
"Fuckin' asswipe," Mickey grumbled and turned away. "M'not cute."
But as Mickey walked away and scowled at everything that moved, his cheeks burning and his masculinity wounded, Ian couldn't help thinking the complete opposite.
Mickey went to lie down on the bed on his stomach, and rolled his eyes as he heard Ian's quick footsteps, then groaned in annoyance as Ian jumped on top of him with all of his weight, pressing him into the mattress. Ian bounced up and down on top of Mickey, all while yelling "so cute! You're so cute!" Mickey sighed heavily and reluctantly accepted his fate as his face was being squished into the pillow. His boyfriend was so fucking stupid.