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“We’re gonna hit some serious traffic if you don’t hurry the hell up,” Mickey warns.
He’s been waiting by the door with his bags packed and ready for what feels like a whole damn millennium. Meanwhile, Ian takes another five minutes looking for that sock of his. It feels like all Mickey’s been doing lately is pushing Ian out the door so they can get going on their way. Jesus, when did Mickey become the nagger?
“Aha!”
Ian pokes his head out from somewhere between the lounge and the lamp table and proceeds to stare at a single grey sock like it’s the biggest puzzle in the universe.
“How did it end up there?”
Mickey sighs, places the bags on the floor and shuts the door. He walks towards Ian where he’s still standing in the middle of the living room.
“Remember the other day? We fucked on the couch so it probably came off then.”
“Oh yeah.”
He’s quiet for a long time after that, staring down at the sock a little blankly. Mickey steps slightly closer. “Look, Ian. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Ian looks up quickly at that, his eyes a little panicked. “No, I want to.”
Mickey nods, “Are you sure? You haven’t seen them since –”
“Since they were too freaked out about me going batshit and dumped me onto you instead? Yeah, I remember.”
Mickey frowns at Ian’s choice of words and reaches for his arm gently. “Hey, man. You know it wasn’t like that.” Mickey never thought he’d be the one running to defend Ian’s elder siblings, but here he is doing just that.
Ian snorts, “Sure.” He looks down and tightens the grip on the sock. “If you say so.”
“Yeah I fuckin’ say so. They called a lot, remember? They just knew you needed the space.” Which is only partly true, Mickey knows. They’d helped out with the early bills for Ian’s recovery, but once Mickey got a steady paying job, he’d managed on his own.
Mickey thinks he could remind Ian about how they helped with the bills, but it’s probably not the right time so he just waits.
Ian finally looks up again, “How could they do that? They let me have my own space for two fuckin’ years? Meanwhile, I’ve made a life of my own without them. A fuckin’ good life at that, with you and my work and fucking Chester.”
Chester comes slinking into the room at the sound of his name and they both momentarily glance at their tabby who seems to have not noticed he interrupted a serious discussion.
“Wish we could take him with us,” Ian says, picking him up.
Mickey nods, letting Ian take an out from the conversation. “Yeah. Doubt we’ll survive the car ride with him meowing his little head off, though. I talked to Haley so that’s settled.”
They don’t say anything for a while as Ian gently pets Chester and Mickey watches him.
“It’s only two days,” Mickey tries again.
Ian sighs, “I know.”
*
The drive isn’t as bad as anticipated. It’s a lot less stressful than their initial drive to Pittsburgh about two years ago, when they had nothing planned but a place to go and a vague idea of where they might crash for the night. But that’s not to say Mickey’s not stressing the hell out anyway, because they’re driving to south side Chicago purely for Ian, so Ian can be with his family for thanksgiving. It’s not like Mickey has anything left for him there anymore, ever since Mandy’d fucked off to Boston of all places, he hadn’t really had much reason to come back. Until a slightly ambiguous call from Fiona while he was at work, insisting that they come down for a few days.
Mickey shoots sideways glances towards Ian as often as possible, until Ian shakes his head and tells him to keep his eyes on the road. He’d then turned up the volume of their shitty stereo and proceeded to nap. Eight and a half hours of listening to Ian’s roadtrip mix tape might have done a number on him, but by the end they make it there in one piece.
Luckily, Debbie’s the one to open the door and she goes straight into Ian’s arms and hugs him for a long moment. She surprises Mickey by giving him a hug too, and all he can do is awkwardly pat her on the back until she pulls away. She’s the Gallagher he likes the most – probably because she’s the only one who calls the most often to check up on Ian, and Ian accepts her calls every time.
“Glad you guys made it. We missed you,” she smiles up at them both and Mickey realises that she’s grown a lot since he’d last seen her.
“Missed you too, Debs,” Ian says softly. She stands aside and makes room for them to walk in.
For a second, Mickey feels like they’ve gone back in time. Everything looks exactly as it was the last time he’d seen it – from the slight yellow of the walls, the clothes thrown on the sofas and Carl’s nunchucks on the coffee table. It’s kind of weird as the memories hit him all at once – after all, this place was Mickey’s home too for a little while. He can’t even begin to guess how Ian’s feeling.
The trance breaks when Carl comes over, because he’s definitely changed and seems to have grown over a foot since they’d last seen him.
“Ay man!” he runs into Ian and tackles him into a hug, and that’s when Fiona pokes her head in from the kitchen’s entrance.
“Ian?” her voice is soft and hopeful, which makes Mickey want to frown but he resists.
She walks up to them, looking young but worn-out, and holds both of Ian’s hands in her own. “I’m so happy you’re here,” she says, and then hugs him. “And I’m glad you’re well.” This time she whispers it so quietly; Mickey has to strain his ears to hear it.
She pulls away and smiles towards Mickey. “Glad you’re here, too.” Mickey nods curtly in reply. It’s weird talking to someone every week for about two years and only ever talking about one thing, or one person at that. Her smile is wide and grateful and Mickey doesn’t know exactly how to feel. “C’mon, we’re cooking up a storm in the kitchen so either of you two need to grab a spatula or a chopping board.”
Mickey feels Ian hesitate beside him. “Where’s, um,” he pauses. “Where’s Lip?”
Fiona shoots a kind of understanding look – it’s the reunion Ian’s been anticipating and dreading the most and they all know it. From what Mickey knows, Ian’s spoken or occasionally skyped with everyone except Lip. It’s a touchy subject and Mickey never really liked the guy anyway, so it’s not like he ever pushed Ian for more contact.
“He’s the one cooking, if you can believe it. Well, him and Trace,” she pauses at their blank looks. “Tracey. His girlfriend.”
“Oh. Right,” Ian says. They follow everyone into the kitchen, where Lip is indeed busy at the stove. The strawberry blonde girl with the apron on must be his girlfriend, but no one really pays much attention to her as Lip and Ian share a look from across the room.
And suddenly, before Mickey can blink, Lip’s in front of them and pats Ian on the back. “See you made it,” he smiles.
“Yep,” Ian replies and the tension is heavy and awkward as they both kind of stare at each other.
“How’s the Pitts?” Lip finally says.
Ian rolls his eyes, “Don’t call it that.”
It’s silent again for a moment and Mickey just bears it, grinding his teeth.
“Wanna share a fag?” Lip raises his eyebrows, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear. He’s probably trying to make a joke and break the ice. Mickey almost pities the guy.
“Nope. I quit a while ago.”
“Oh,” Lip frowns. “C’mon lil bro, work with me here. Let’s step outside so we can talk this out.”
Ian sighs and uncrosses his arms. “Fine.”
Mickey shoots him a concerned look as him wraps on his scarf, but Ian just nods at him as if to say I’ll be fine, don’t worry.
Fuck, Mickey sure hopes so. There were days in Pittsburgh when Mickey could tell how much Ian needed his family, how he’d pause or seem a little gloomy all of a sudden. Ian’s the type of big-hearted, on-your-sleeve kind of guy who loves his family no matter how mad at them he is. All Mickey wants is Ian to be happy – even if that means reconciling with his douchebag brother.
*
There’s no way Mickey’s touching a frying pan or oven mitts, so he’s agreed to Liam-duty instead, and watches over the kid while everyone else gets busy doing whatever.
Liam’s talking a lot more than Mickey remembers, which is both great and kind of not-so great because Mickey has to talk back and he’s admittedly not good at that shit.
Liam has two of those rollback toy cars so they sit on the floor racing each other for a while, with Mickey purposely letting his car go a little later so Liam wins every time. Mickey looks up to see Ian smiling at them from where he’s tossing a salad.
The place is loud but not so loud that it’s uncomfortable – more like a buzz that’s easy to get used to. Except, just as soon as Mickey’s starting to relax, Ian jumps at the chance to buy more eggs for Tracy’s fancy last-minute quiche. Mickey raises his eyebrows but grabs his coat after making sure Debbie’s got an eye on Liam. He follows Ian out the door and into biting November air.
“You okay?” Mickey asks as soon as they’ve walked a fair distance from the house.
Ian takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah,” he pauses and smiles. “I am, actually. Just wanted to stretch my legs for a while.”
For some reason, it takes a while for Mickey to catch on that they’re walking a familiar route to the Kash and Grab.
“Shit, is it even still around?”
“I have no idea. In this economy, maybe not.”
Miraculously though, it’s still standing in all its glory. Leave it to Linda to not go down and shut the place without a fight.
Walking in, Mickey notices the few changes straight away. The magazine rack has changed places, and they’re apparently stocking baked beans and cans back where the shampoo and lotions shit used to go. It’s relatively empty, except for an old couple and the girl who looks about fifteen working at the register.
Ian heads for the eggs and meanwhile, Mickey’s kind of stuck staring at everything, like the posters and the door to the storage room.
There was a time where the Kash and Grab was a place for escape, a place of solace, where his shitty morning wouldn’t matter anymore – a place that meant Ian. Sure, he’s had a few rough times in the store (namely getting shot and getting caught with his pants down twice). But mostly Mickey likes to remember hot summer days, sneaking ice-cold beers and getting fucked good and hard in the backroom. Or images of Ian pouring over some Math book, afterwards Mickey reading out trashy magazines articles, making fun of the celebrities while Ian would just shake his head and laugh.
Now, he feels Ian staring at him and knows that somehow he knows exactly what Mickey’s thinking. And Mickey’s right because Ian catches his left hand, brings it to his lips and kisses it. And yeah, it’s cheesy as fuck but maybe Mickey’s gotten used to shit like that so he grins at Ian.
“Goin’ down memory lane seems to be a thing today,” he comments.
Ian smiles, “Well we’re back home so,” he cuts himself off and pauses. “I mean, we’re back in Chicago.”
“Ian,” Mickey stares. “It’s possible to have two homes, you know.”
“I know,” Ian says, then smiles a wide cheesy smile. “But really my home is wherever you are, Mick.”
Mickey groans and shoves Ian a little. “Man, shut the fuck up. Let’s go pay for these eggs unless you really wanna visit some memories and have me lift them instead.”
“Nah, doubt Linda would appreciate that.”
It’s only when they’re heading towards the register, does Mickey realises the girl behind the counter is kind of staring at them intensely.
She quickly scans the eggs, but still keeps glances at them furtively and it irks Mickey enough to bite.
“What?” he snaps.
“Oh,” she says, obviously startled. She frowns through her multi-coloured bangs. “You’re Mickey Milkovich and Ian Gallagher.” She says it like a fact and it’s fucking confusing.
“Do we know you?” Ian cuts in politely, before Mickey can reply.
“Um, not really. I’m Megan,” she glances between them. “Uh, you don’t know me but I’ve heard a lot about you two.”
Ian frowns, “From Linda?”
Megan laughs, “Well yeah, I guess that, too. She talks about the days Mickey used to be security like they were the Golden Days since nothing ever got stolen.”
“Damn fuckin’ right,” Mickey grins at that.
“But you know… you two are kind of legends at my school.”
Mickey hadn’t been expecting that, and by the looks of it Ian seems kind of shocked too,
“Wait, what? Legends?”
“Yeah, I mean,” she nods towards Mickey. “You came out at a south side bar and nearly got arrested afterwards. Then you two start living at each other’s houses and went out together, even holding hands. Apparently you even kiss in public sometimes and it’s adorable.”
“You been stalkin’ us?” Mickey demands once he finds his voice again.
“No, but you’re kind of a hero to my best friend. Don’t worry; he’s just an admirer. But anyway, we started an LGBTQIA group at our high school and I guess you could say you boys had some influence on that.”
“We did?” Ian finally speaks, sounding more stunned than before. “Wow.”
“Yep,” she smiles. “Thank you.”
She hands them their change and yells out “Happy thanksgiving!” while they’re walking away. Ian waves back, a smile spreading his face much wider than before.
“Shit,” Ian says as they start heading back. He laughs a little giddily and Mickey has to admit that it’s kind of cute. “Who would’ve thought?”
“That a bunch of queer teenagers have been writing us fanmail? Not me,” Mickey says, but he’s grinning too. He feels a little on top of the world, a little brave.
This time he’s the one to catch Ian’s hand as they walk.
*
When they reach the Gallagher home, they’re welcomed by Kev giving them extra long bear hugs until Ian jokes that the eggs might be crushed, now.
Inside, the house is warm and loud, with Vee’s kids making baby noises and pattering still going on in the kitchen. Ian delivers the eggs to Tracey, who’d apparently decided against the quiche anyway. Mickey doesn’t think the trip to the Kash and Grab was a complete waste, anyway.
Soon enough, they’re sitting around the table waiting for Fiona’s turkey so they can finally begin. Ian keeps glancing at Mickey sideways and quickly looks away whenever Mickey raises his eyebrows at him.
After the fifth consecutive time, Mickey finally gives in. “See something you like?” he asks, raising his eyebrows yet again.
Ian laughs a little, “Well, yeah, but it’s not only that.” He looks around the table until his eyes land on Mickey’s again. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For convincing me to come here. For sticking by me and for giving me such a blessed life. Just,” he leans forward and smiles wide. “For being my home.”
Mickey’s breath catches in his throat so he really has no time to call Ian out on his insane amount of sappiness. So he just leans forward instead and closes the gap between them, kissing Ian quick and sweet.
The entire table kind of goes silent as they pull apart. Mickey realises that he’d never really kissed Ian in front of his family.
He looks around and grumbles, “The fuck is everyone lookin’ at?”
Tracey's the one to break the silence first. "You two are fucking adorable. That's what."