Chapter Text
The first time it happened was a legitimate accident.
After months of Mandy being a cunt and harassing him to paint the damn fence, Mickey was finally working on it. Why couldn’t she do it herself?, he wondered frustratedly, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperation evident across his features. She was only three months pregnant, not crippled. Anyways. He had forgotten to close the door as he busted his ass and Seagal, the little shit, managed to crawl its little body not only all the way down to the street, but also up a fucking tree, all without Mickey noticing. He only figured it out an hour later when he went inside to get some well-deserved pizza bagels and the cat was nowhere to be found. Mickey would never admit it, but his heart skipped a beat once he closed the final door of possible hiding places.
He hurried outside, feeling the panic boiling his blood, until he spotted a black spot, at the top of the tree in front of the backyard. His eyes squinted, pupils contracting and exposing more of the blue of his irises as he focused on the thing through the sunrays. A sudden, but totally calm meow resonated and yep, that jagoff had managed to get all the way up a fucking tree. Mickey passed his palm over his face and let it rest on his mouth, nibbling nervously on his lip, incredulous. He should have cut the thing’s claws a long time ago. But there was the little hair ball, chilling on a branch that could fall at any moment, like it had no care in the world, licking itself as if to congratulate its recklessness. Jesus Christ. The indifference of the cat enraged Mickey, but he tried to make himself feel a little better by pretending that the cat was the one actually afraid.
“Yeah, you better look scared, bitch. Shouldn’t got your ass all the way up there, anyway.”
As if the feline understood, it looked at him, unimpressed and gave a weak meow to express so. Mickey nearly frowned.
“I am gonna leave your fucking ass there!”, He threatened, intended annoyance failing to be instead replaced by obvious concern in his tone.
A staring contest followed, a tensed silence accompanying it, but the cat was a true Milkovich; finally, Mickey gave in, a typical “fuck” escaping him as he dialed the only number he could think of.
.........................................................................................................................................................................................................
About 12, long minutes was the time it took for the huge red and white vehicle to arrive. Mickey felt fucking ridiculous, having to call the damn firemen because he had been too stupid to close the door, but his train of thoughts quickly stopped when his saviour arrived. Holy shit. Instinctively, Mickey scanned each and every single one of the man’s features, going from his fire hair – holy fuck, a redhead – to his chin to his fucking mesmerizing green eyes reflecting the sun to his defined jawline that Mickey wouldn’t mind sucking on… Christ. Thank God he had called the firemen after all, cause the fire he felt in his abdomen? That was quickly becoming a problem. Mickey shook the thought away, “way too gay…” he whispered before feeling a presence besides him, startling him out of his faze and flinched slightly.
The guy smirked and for a second, Mickey wanted to punch him as much as he wanted to ride him. “Hey. We got a call about a cat?”
“You mean the dumb shit that got itself all the way up a fucking tree?” Mickey clarified, turning his attention to the tree in question. His stomach sank at the view of Seagal, perched on that branch, on the verge of falling.
Ian grinned and followed his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so.” It was pretty obvious that the cat was fine, and the branch looked solid enough, but he didn’t mention it. The handsome stranger in front of him though? He tried too hard to seem not to give a shit. Ian’s grin turned into a smile, but he swallowed it easily. He knew better. “Guess we better get it off f’there then. ” He took one more moment to look at the dark-haired thug, but wasn’t quick enough to look away.
“Well, get to it then! The fuck you lookin’ at?”
Ian grinned again, but left quickly to get the ladder.
When he came back, Seagal was purring in his arms, brushing its small black head against the muscles of the ginger, looking pleased and perfectly comfortable. For a brief second, Mickey felt a flash of jealousy, but he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was because Seagal was never so soft with him or if it was because he wouldn’t mind being held in those strong arms neither. He chose to be bitter.
“The fuck you do to Seagal? Little guy is a beast, not a soft ass kitten” Mickey accused teasingly before taking the cat from the guy’s – or Gallagher, as his name tag read – arms. Instantly Seagal started to growl. Fucking traitor.
The redhead laughed and Mickey had to brush his thumb against his lips to wipe away his own smile creeping in. Shit, the guy didn’t even have to do a fucking thing and Mickey was already fanning over him. It was pathetic.
“Seagal, huh? Van Damme could kick his ass anytime. ”
“Fuck, no, he couldn’t!” An insulted Mickey responded, slight amusement and genuine surprise marking his facial expression. Ian thought it was kind of hilarious, but also kind of adorable.
Green hues went to Mickey’s knuckles wrapped so delicately around the animal and he gave a light snort- not because he thought Mickey was laughable, but because he couldn’t believe his dream match was literally standing in front of him. He teased lightly, “Even you could probably kick that clown’s ass. ”
Mickey felt Ian’s eyes on his hands and he looked away uncomfortably, his finger giving a twitch of discomfort before clenching slightly. Wasn’t the Gallagher family fucking piece-of-shit-Frank’s? Who was that guy to judge him? Thought he was better than him now cause he was wearing some fancy uniform? Mickey swallowed, but decided it wasn’t worth fighting over. He wasn’t some kid trying to prove a point anymore.
“Well, Gallagher, don’t you have to go save lives and shit now? Be a real fireman?” His voice was detached from emotions as he looked back at the man in front of him.
Ian nodded, his stomach clenching slightly at the coldness but not showing it. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He reached towards the cat and scratched its ear slightly before backing off, turning around to go back to the vehicle. “You should get a leash, keep that thing in sight. ” he gave a playful wink and walked away, and Mickey didn’t see him again. Well, until a week later.