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Mickey and Ian are lying in Lip's old room, side by side on the bed trying to escape the heat of the chicago summer. The room is dark, only a few sun rays managing to break through the old bed sheets that are functioning as curtains in front of the dirty, stained window. Mickey raises a hand trying to touch the dust that is dancing in the ray of light that is shining on his bare stomach.
“I like your hands!” Ian says, his eyes locked on the other boys fingers. Mickey huffs.
“Yeah, they're fucking beautiful. Nicely manicured, no scars and blisters, amazing artwork on the knuckles. I should join a beauty pageant.”
He turns his head and looks at the redheaded boy next to him.
“Don't be ridiculous, man.”
Ian reaches out and intertwines their hands, his thumb painting invisible patterns onto the coarse skin.
“Whatever, I like them.” Mickey smiles and squeezes his hand lightly.
“Well, I'm glad you do!”
They lay there in silence for a while, until somebody knocks on the door.
“Ian? Can I come in?” Ian sits up, quickly sorting through the pile of clothes at the end of the bed, looking for his shirt. He knows, Mickey doesn't like anyone to really see them be together.
He finds Mickeys tank top and throws it in his direction.
“Hold on, Carl. Gimme a sec.” He turns around only to see the other boy throwing the shirt back in his face.
Mickey rolls his eyes at him, sits up, grabs his arm and pulls him back onto the bed. He takes his hand and intertwines it with his again.
“Come in.” he calls and grins at Ian.
Carl opens the door, looking from one boy to the other. He doesn't say anything, just staring at their hands and bare torsos.
“Don't look so fucking shocked, man. Like this is the weirdest thing you've walked in on in this house?”
Next to him, Ian just smiles, overjoyed by the fact that Mickey is no longer trying to deny that they are together, at least inside the Gallagher home.
It's the christening party of Kev and Vs twins and Mickey's sitting on one of the bar stools at the Alibi staring at the bottom of his empty beer glas. The whole situation seems painfully familiar and unleashes some unwelcome, painful memories of the night of his own sons christening. He tries to shake the thoughts and stands up to join Ian and Lip in one of the booths. Ian smiles at him and moves over to give him space to sit down next to him. He smiles even more when Mickey ignores his private space and scoots so close to him, that their legs and shoulders are touching.
“Come on, guys. Let's take a picture to remember this day. Couples together, Kids in the front.” Kevin sets up a tripod and it takes some time until he figures out which buttons to press in order to start the selftimer.
Meanwhile the Gallaghers, Veronica and her mother stand in front of the bar, discussing how to pose, where to stand and what to do. Ian stands up and grabs Mickeys hand, trying to pull him with him into the picture. Mickey lets him drag him a few steps until he lets go of his hand and walks towards the bathrooms. Ian is disappointed, but he knows his boyfriend well enough not to follow him and talk him into getting into the picture. He stands next to Carl and checks his phone, while Kevin is still strying to set the timer on the camera. It's a nice one, though. He must have stolen it somewhere, Ian thinks when he notices Mickey stepping in front of the group, his eyes focused on Fiona.
“Don't you think you forgot someone? I found this one crawling underneath the pool table.”
He is carrying Liam in his arms, looking amused.
“Be honest. Did you not want him in the picture because he's black?” He chuckles at his own joke and hands the little boy over to his oldest sister. The Gallaghers laugh about Fionas questionable parenting moment while Mickey walks over to stand next to Ian.
He doesn't wanna stretch his luck, but the redhead can't help but put his arm around the smaller boys waist, hugging him tightly.
“I love you, you know that, right?” Mickey bites his lip, trying to disguise the smile that is spreading across his face.
He lets Ian hold him for a second, then pushes him away, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Love you, too.”
Ian is at work at the fairytale and Mickey promised earlier today to stop by after work, so right now he's leaning against a handrail, watching his redhead dancing in just his golden shorts, trying to ignore all the other men in the room longing after him.
He's on his fourth whiskey and it's getting easier and easier not to think about all those dudes that want his boyfriend to be theirs for the night.
Only a few more minutes, then Ian's shift will be over and they can drive home, Mickey's favorite part about visiting the redhead at work.
There's just something about the long drive home, with the El almost empty, the few passagers sleeping to avoid the cold night and Ian being so tired after hours of dancing that he falls asleep, his head sinking onto Mickey's shoulder, that feels so calm and peaceful.
Just these dark rides home make it worth driving all the way to boystown to be with Ian.
When the last song is finally over, Mickey heads outside, walking to the back entrance where he usually meets up with Ian after he's gotten changed.
He's taking longer than usual so Mickey lights the cigarette they usually share on their walk to the El and takes a drag. The door behind him opens and he turns around, expecting Ian.
His manager ordered him to his office for a talk about some shifts that need to be covered next week, so Ian is late to meet his boyfriend. After he leaves his boss' bureau above the club, he hurries down to pack his things and quickly swipes his eyes with some wipes to get at least some of the eyeliner off him.
When he's done he runs up the stairs to the back door and stops for a second before opening it. Trying to catch his breath before he heads outside into the cold he hears Mickeys voice, dampened by the closed door in front of him.
“Fuck off.” The voice that answers him is not one Ian recognizes, but definitely male.
“Come on, you look lonely. Wanna get out of here?” He chuckles, imagining his boyfriends face.
“Did I fucking stutter? Fuck off!” The other man doesn't seem to be going anywhere, still trying his luck with Mickey.
“Why? Come on, I'll keep you warm tonight!” Ian feels a little bad, not helping the older boy but he's curious as to what Mickey will do. Just in case, he places a hand on the door knob, ready to step in when Mickey gets too pissed of and start throwing punches.
The next thing Ian hears is silence. Mickey seems to try to stay calm, ignoring his flirt, but he doesn't seem to take no for an answer.
Finally he hears Mickey's annoyed sigh.
“I already got someone. Now walk the fuck away.” It's obvious that he's about to reach his boiling point, but the other dude cannot take a hint.
“Well, then I'll give you my number for when you and your someone break up. How's that sound?” Ian pricks up his ears, nervously waiting to hear what happens next.
“Ain't gonna happen.” He hears Mickey lighting a cigarette, feeling his heart beating faster, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. He sounds so sure of it! Ian is over the moon.
Mickey has been standing in the cold for like fifteen minutes with this ugly, old dude talking his ear off. It's cold and he just wants Ian to finally show up so they can head home and go to bed.
“Oh, come on. You don't know that.” Mickey's starting to think this guy wants him to hit him.
“Yeah, I know that. He's 'it' for me. Now, I'll give you one last chance to leave me the fuck alone.” He glares at the man in front of him, trying to be as intimidating as possible.
“No, you don't know that.” Mickey's had enough. He drops his cigarette and lifts his arm but before he can do anything else, the back door swings open, Ian appears in the door, staring at the other dude.
“You should've walked the fuck away, like he told you to.”
He walks a few more steps towards the guy and punches him right in the head. He falls to his knees, his hands covering his face.
Mickey knows it's stupid, but in a way, he's proud of his boyfriend. But then, he realizes something else.
“You been listening to this shit without saving me from that faggot?” Ian looks at him, blushing.
“I wanted to see what you would say.” Mickey rolls his eyes, but grabs the redheads hand and starts walking.
“Whatever, let's just go home.”
On the El, they're alone in the wagon, Ian's head is on Mickey's shoulder, his hand on his thigh.
Mickey watches as the scenery flies by, listening to Ians steady breathing. He puts his arm around him and in his sleep, the younger boy moves even closer to him, locking his arms around his body. And Mickey's just sure of it. They're together now and he's never going to let anything become between them again.