Work Text:
Rolling Blackouts
Mickey hated living in the South Side in general, but he detested it in the summertime. Chicago had hot-ass fucking humid summers, and even though the Milkoviches made due with just fans, everyone else would leave their air conditioners on all day long…
“I can’t fuckin’ stand these rolling blackouts,” he complained to Ian. They were sitting in the dining room, Mickey using a gun magazine as a makeshift fan in a futile attempt to cool off. It was the third night in a row that the power had been cut, and Mickey couldn’t help but feel like maybe they weren’t random at all…
He shared his theory with his boyfriend. “I bet the electric company cuts our neighborhood’s power on purpose. No one’s gonna care if Canaryville has to suffer for an hour in the middle of one of the hottest summer nights without lights or A/C, but can you imagine what kind of shit they’d have to deal with if they cut the power in the North Side? They wouldn’t dare pull that shit on the rich assholes that live there…”
“Relax, Mick. You’re starting to sound like Frank,” Ian told him with a small smirk.
Mickey glared back at him until Ian shrugged. “Okay, maybe you’re right, but there’s nothing we can really do about it…”
“I’m just so fucking bored,” Mickey complained yet again. “What the hell are we gonna do for two hour? The TV’s out, it’s too hot to fuck, and I can barely see where I’m going.” He rubbed his elbow as he said the last comment, a reference to the fact that he’d bumped into an open cabinet door while walking in the darkened kitchen only moments earlier.
“We could always go back to my house,” Ian suggested for the third night in a row. “I think they’re playing Risk tonight. Carl stole a bunch of candles from church and Fiona brought dinner home from work… I think they’re having burgers and fries,” he said, as if those things would all entice Mickey to want to go over there. The younger boy watched Mickey with hope in his eyes.
And even though Mickey dreaded interacting with the Gallaghers lately, especially after they tried to have Ian committed, he couldn’t say no to Ian when he looked at him like that.
“Fine,” he groaned. “But we’re stopping by the store for some cold beer first. If I have to sit through playing a board game with your family, I’m gonna fuckin’ need it...”