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It was a morning like many others in the Gallagher household.
People were running around getting ready for the day, yelling and screaming at each other at the breakfast table, and being as loud and loving as they usually were.
Fiona was standing near the table, trying to eat while simultaneously zipping her uniform on; Carl was choking himself with a weird concoction made from oatmeal, OJ and smashed pancakes with jam; Debbie and Mandy were in a corner, secretly discussing something that had the younger one widen her eyes and blush furiously; Liam was enthusiastically feeding Yev under Svetlana’s supervision; Ian was at the kitchen counter making sandwiches, quietly humming a tune, a small smile on his face.
“Whatchya grinning at?” asked Lip with a questioning smirk of his own, while closing the fridge with a carton of milk in one hand and three books and a glass balanced on the other.
“What? Oh, nothing.” Answered him with a shook of his head, grin firmly in place.
Lip uttered an “Is that so?” with a knowing, affectionate look on his face and ruffled his brother’s hair before returning to the breakfast table with the others.
Ian got back to his sandwiches, now with a full blown smile.
He got a strong scent of smoke, sweat and his own laundry detergent, then a “Hey” in a low voice rough with sleep, and the gentle brush of a hand on his back, while Mickey passed past him to grab a bowl and then went to the table with the others to pour himself some cereals.
The smile on Ian’s face grew even more, so much that his cheeks hurt, and suddenly he had to take a quick breath and his face went rigid around a grimace as he felt his eyes water.
He bowed his head down so the others wouldn’t notice and took some deep breaths to calm down.
“Yo, Ian. What’s wrong?”
Ian felt a warm hand on his shoulder and turned so he had his back towards the others, he closed his eyes and rubbed them with his thumb and index. He looked at the ceiling and let out a gush of air trying to keep it together.
“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong? Look at me.”
“No, Mickey, I think if I looked at you right now I might break something.” He said in a shaky voice.
He could feel Mickey’s worried eyes on him and he tried to explain himself before the guy freaked out completely. “I just- I'm feeling so much right now.” He said very quietly, to keep the others from catching on their conversation.
“Bad stuff?” Ian could hear the frown in his question.
“No! Not bad stuff. Not at all.” He tried to reassure him without giving too much away. God, he didn’t want to do this.
“What the fuck man? You're worrying me!”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I-” he hesitated, knowing how weird and pathetic would sound what he was about to say, but not knowing a better way to explain what he was feeling. “I'm just so fucking happy right now!” He finally admitted with a frustrated sigh.
“Happy?” Ian glanced briefly at Mickey, just long enough to see his eyebrows skyrocket to his hairline.
“Yeah!” He let go, trying to elaborate, his voice a rushed whisper. “I don't know why; I was making sandwiches, and I made yours with only peanut butter because you're a fucking weirdo that doesn't like PB and J-”
“It's just gross man.”
“Shut up, you're gross. And anyway, I felt so happy that I’m, like, here, with my family, and I was waiting for you to come downstairs, to have breakfast together, when before I never even thought we could even be in the same place without it being weird and tense. And then, like, when you came here you just- you touched me, in front of my family, and I started feeling so overwhelmed because you’re here, with me, and it’s just- everything it’s just so perfect.”
Ian went back to facing the ceiling while breathing heavily and blinking rapidly, and Mickey could only stand in front of him in disbelief.
“Perfect?” He exclaimed in the same hushed tone. “How the fuck is this perfect? My wife and my son are right there at your breakfast table; you’re out of a job and we’re lucky it’s still warm enough because we still can’t pay for the fucking heat bill! What the fuck is perfect with this?”
“They are just two more people to care about.” Replied the other. “And we can’t pay for the heat; like you and me, and our family.” Ian was now watching his own hands. He thought he was the emotional one in the relationship, but apparently he was still quite uncomfortable talking so much about his feelings when he didn’t have to shove them down his boyfriend’s throat.
An embarrassed, though not really awkward silence set between the two. In the background, the loud and comforting noise of their family having breakfast.
“I’m sorry, man,” started Ian again. “It’s just- these fucking meds-”
“Nah,” cut him off Mickey. “It’s not your meds; you’re just a giant pussy.” He said with a playful smirk.
Ian let out a loud laugh at that, and then softly punched Mickey’s shoulder with a murmured “You fucker.”
The two stared at each other for a bit, smiling. When Ian went to turn around to finish the sandwiches , Mickey stopped him with a hand on his arm. Keeping his hold on Ian he said, without looking at him “I am too, you know? Happy, I mean. Like, because of you.”
After he didn’t hear anything from Ian for a couple of seconds, he looked up to find the other guy with a red face and shiny eyes, trying hard to keep it together.
“What the fuck Mickey?! I had just stopped crying and then you go and say shit like that?” Said Ian with a shaky voice that somehow could also pass for kinda pissed off. “Fuck you! Okay?” he concluded, angrily wiping his eyes as he took half of his unfinished sandwich and stormed off, while Mickey serenely laughed at him and followed him upstairs.